#can you tell when i found the glitter pens

[marigoldthegamer]

Listened to music, got inspired. I feel weird posting my art but whatever. Worst it could do is ignorable hate comments ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[scarletwinterxx]

his day - mark lee dad imagine

hellooo. here's the mark dad father's day scenario🥺 i thought about writing one before father's day but i didn't have the time then some of you requested it so i wrote it during my free time. It took a while since I was busy but it's here. I hope you like it🤍

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

part11: your day

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Having a new born baby is a new challenge every time. It doesn't really matter if you already went through this twice. The fact that you have 2 older kids to get ready for school and a new born that wakes up every hour makes it 10 times more difficult.

But of course things are made better when you have your husband with you. The two of you already have the routine down to the T, usually you take the night shift since you have to feed baby Minsu while Mark takes the morning shift to get the kids ready and drive them to school.

Mark took some time off work to be with his family. He knew it would be difficult to leave you at home with the kids, and even though his parents offered to help he politely declined them with the assurance that he can handle it.

And he did. The kids are out the door and on their way to school just in time then Minsu to wake up to feed again, usually you'd do that before going downstairs to eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

The two older kids also adjusted pretty well with the birth of their new sibling, Minjee was so excited to meet him and was fascinated to see the little human. Minjung was also so happy to meet his little brother, promising to teach him everything when he gets older.

Watching your three kids together washes all of the tiredness away. The fear and anxiety you felt when delivering your youngest all goes at the back of your mind once you see Minjung hold little Minsu in his arms. Your first baby holding your youngest.

Minjee of course couldn't wait for her turn to hold the baby, you were more worried about her adjusting but she welcomed her younger sibling just as easy. She even promised she would share her cakepops with her baby brother.

All the long nights, sleepless weeks to months and the anxiety if you're doing the right thing everyday is worth it. For them, you'd do it over and over again without a doubt.

It's not always happy days of course. Some nights are more rough than others, recently Minsu hasn't been sleeping. Doctor said he might have colic, they did say it'll go away eventually and there's really not much you can do so you try to comfort him best way you can.

Mark has that mastered. Once Minsu fusses, he's already on his feet shushing his little boy back to sleep. Singing him the softest most random lullabies. Sometimes you find him just walking around the house with Minsu in his arms, telling him the most random stories

That is exactly how you found the two of them in the living room, you don't know how long Mark has been walking in circles in your living room. You can hear him telling Minsu about the many times he and Haechan got in an agreement. Laughing quietly when you hear the familiar story of that time Haechan ran over the mailbox while driving Mark's car.

Your laugh made Mark look up from the baby in his arms and over to you, a similar fond look on his face

"What a peculiar story to tell a baby"

"It puts him to sleep" Mark tells you

"I bet, imagine your dad rambling to you for hours" you joke, watching him walk in circles around the living room

"Why don't I take him, I already showered and ate breakfast"

"Its fine, love"

"Mark honey, I love you really but right now you need a shower. You're covered in baby vomit" you point at the huge stain on his shirt, you stand up from your seat to get Minsu from him

"I got this, you go get ready" you kiss him on the cheek, playfully pushing him towards the stairs

You take this time to get the surprise ready. It's father's day today and even though you agreed not to do anything grand since you just gave birth a month ago, you still wanted to do something for him.

When you're sure Minsu is asleep. You put him down on the baby rocker you have in the living room while you get the cake and flowers you secretly ordered.

It's still quiet in your bedroom upstairs so you assume Mark is still in the shower. You get your present for Mark and set it on the table also then you wait.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps down the stairs then Mark emerges with a towel in hand. "Hey can you dry wait woah what's this" he asks, a big smile forming on his face

"Happy Father's Day, my love"

"This is woah when did you do this, are these for me?" He takes the flowers to take a closer look

"Yep, I saw somewhere say men only receive flowers on their funeral and that made me so sad then i thought i never gave you flowers then i got sadder so i got you some"

He smiles at you, putting the flowers down so he could give you a big hug

"You're so cute, it's okay though. You gave me everything and more than I could ever ask for, just look at that" he juts his chin over Minsu who's still sleeping "How can I ever ask for more when I have all"

"You're cheesy"

"You love me"

"That I do. This life we have, I hope this isn't the only one. If there's a life after this, let's meet again okay?"

He looks right at you, listening to your words like he's hearing your wedding vows again. Then he leans down to capture your lips in his, like every kiss with you is the first.

"I'll love you in this one, and in all the other lives I'll live. I'm so so happy, there's really nothing else in this world I'd want more"

You kiss him again, smiling against his lips and hugging him tighter. The two of you only broke apart when you hear your baby cry

"Oh that's the hungry cry, you got it?" Mark says as he picks up Minsu and pass him over to you.

"Minjung gave me a little spiderman lego thing, I'll show it to you I forgot. Then he hugged me and said thank you for being a cool dad even though I don't know how to cook"

You let out a chuckle, imagining your boy saying it to his dad. "That's why I'm teaching him so one day his own kid can say he's a great cook" you joke

"Hey!"

"What about Jee?"

"She made me a card, I swear she used all the glitter she had. I love it, I really do. I also think I would never get rid of the glitter in my office so we might need to move"

While he's talking, you can see the fond look on his face as he talks about his children. You know how much Mark loves you, there isn't a day in your entire relationship that he forgot to tell you that.

But you know deep in you there's no one on this Earth he loves more than his kids, he'd do anything and everything for them.

And you love him so much for that.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Crushing!Jihoon

Fluff - Woozi x gn!reader

I have a crush on that boy, but what if he had a crush? 🤔

Word Count: 1k

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ────୨ৎ──── ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jihoon cannot look you in the eyes. He usually is good about eye contact because he is very polite, but if he catches your eyes, he will quickly avert his gaze anywhere else. He still likes to talk to you, but he gets overwhelmed and lost in his thoughts if he’s looking straight into your eyes. Sometimes, he tries to look at your nose, so it will at least seem like he’s looking at you, but he still finds it too cute when you wrinkle it to laugh, so he ends up looking away anyway.

Jihoon rambles. A simple “Hello” will turn into him oversharing about his weekend, favorite show, or work. He cannot stop and your patient smile only encourages him to keep going. He eventually will realize and let a sentence trail off as his face turns red. He only stops being embarrassed when you reply with the same energy. You both end up yapping as much as possible, going from topic to topic almost randomly. Anyone listening in on the conversation would get lost because it’s like you have your own language together.

Jihoon can’t flirt. At all. It doesn’t come naturally to him. If he tries to be cute, he just gets embarrassed. He’s also afraid of being seen as a creep. You lightly flirt with him and he doesn’t notice. If you turn it up a little, he either misinterprets it or gets really awkward. He claims to be a direct person or the type to just be straight-forward and tell you, but, in reality, he will take his secret crush to the grave.

Literally everyone notices when Jihoon is crushing. He doesn’t realize how obvious he is when every other topic of conversation is you or what you like or what’s going on in your life. The other members joke about it quietly, but they make sure he doesn’t know or else it would end their favorite entertainment. They find it super fun to watch him get flustered around you then turn around like nothing happened. They even try to get him closer to you or leave you two alone together, just to eavesdrop or peek into the room to witness him freak out a little.

Jihoon writes a ton of love songs. They probably won’t see the light of day and some of them are just sentences in his notes app, but every beautiful melody he thinks of is inspired by you in some way (and some of the horny ones too). Fans would say that these types of songs were written with a pink glitter gel pen which is only true in vibes. He isn’t kicking his feet and writing in twirly handwriting, but his heart is whether he likes it or not.

Jihoon pretends to be nonchalant but remembers super specific things about you. Like, he’ll hand you your favorite obscure candy from your childhood that you told him about one time four months ago, and say something like “don’t make a big deal out of it” or “i just saw this and remembered”. In reality, it took him forever to find it and he wasn’t even sure if it was discontinued or not. He was about to look up a recipe for it to make it from scratch, but he found it, ordered it, then waited like a kid on Christmas for the package to arrive. He gives maximum effort for small details and pretends like it’s nothing.

It’s a lot easier to get Jihoon to open up than you think. He claims that he doesn’t want to burden anyone with his emotions when they are heavy, and he doesn’t always want to share his feelings so outwardly, but if you ask him like twice, he’ll tell you all about it. You can visibly see his shoulders un-tense when he tells you about his struggles. He trusts you and can’t keep anything from you. He’s also just bad at lying, so you can tell something is up with him almost immediately.

Jihoon doesn’t like physical touch BUT ONLY when he isn’t expecting it. He has to initiate the touching for it to be okay. You once tried to place your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off instinctively. Later, he held onto your arm absent-mindedly. You learn to give him his space and wait for him to start anything physical. Once he does, you can reciprocate easily. He likes to put his arm behind you while sitting on the couch. You lean into him and he doesn’t flinch or move or anything. He touches you more often than anyone else which makes his crush on you so painfully obvious.

Jihoon has a Libra Venus in his astrology chart. From the moment he realized he liked you, he immediately envisioned your entire future together complete with four versions of a wedding, a life with kids, a life without kids, what your cat’s names would be, and every time he could tell the world that a song was dedicated to you. He thinks about different ways he could ask you on a date like he’s Doctor Strange looking into possible realities. It was easy for him to get a crush on you, and he can’t help but imagine it when he closes his eyes.

Jihoon is oblivious. You obviously like him and everyone can see it except for him. You always smile when he talks or laugh at his stupid jokes. You’re always caught up on his favorite anime (which you enjoy as well) just so that when he finally does watch them, you are ready to talk about it at a moment’s notice. You call him every night to make sure he’s wrapping up at work, and you offer to buy him food if he hasn’t eaten. You are one of the only reasons he takes a day off or goes outside to have fun when he’s not working. You’re always ready with a plan to hang out together. You want to be with him all the time. You stick to him like glue. And he just thinks that you're his really good friend. He can’t imagine that his crush likes him right back.

[rebelliousstories]

Tidings

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Mentions of Death of Family, Inappropriate Behavior Towards Women, Brief Fighting

Word Count: 2,341

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: A snowy night. A warm diner. A hot meal. And a reluctant helper.

Consider Donating: Here

Logan was, once again, driving back to the mansion from Canada. He had gone off about two months earlier, and truly meant to be back before now. The main reason being the roads. During December, the road he took from Canada to upstate New York became icy and dangerous. That is why he tried to make his journey back in November, at the latest.

But he got held up. Not for any good, particular reason. He enjoyed staying in the wilderness with his truck. Out there, he could just be. No one truing to tell him what to do, or dampen the animal that had been created. As he tried to piece his life back together, the wilderness called to him with its peace. The drawback was that sometimes he got lost in it, wishing to be that peaceful all the time, leaving him having to make the journey in the beginning of December when the road was most dangerous.

Although, Logan was not even sure if he could die if he managed to flip his truck on the incredibly icy roads. But he would prefer not to damage it this close to making it back to the school. Low rumbling brought him out of his own thoughts, breaking the zen he found in driving. There was not anything resembling civilization for the last twenty or so miles, but he needed to eat. Groaning, Logan kept trucking along, keeping his eyes out for someplace that would be open in this weather.

Dim lights shone ahead of where the mutant was on the road. A little diner, it seemed, was just off the highway in a little corner of the road; almost like it was on the shoulder. The closer he got, the more Logan’s stomach was growling. Lights inside were on as well as a neon open sign. There was only one other car in the lot when he pulled in that he assumed belonged to whomever worked there.

While he tried to make his way inside, a gust of wind blew against him, sending snow directly into his back. The wind managed to blow the front door wide open, and a young woman rushed out to close it to no avail. Logan finally made his way over there, and shut the door for her.

“Thank you, mister. Damn door always gives me trouble this time of year. Come on in.” He followed after her, and basked in the warmth of the little restaurant inside.

Christmas decorations were hung around the dining room, complete with a little tree in the corner. Twinkling lights made the room sparkle as they reflected off of all the glitter decorations that were hung. A beautiful smell of spices and citrus made the area even more cozy. Sitting down at the bar, Logan realized that she was wearing an adorable little Christmas sweater.

“So, what can I get you stranger?” She came back around, with a little pad of paper and a cute Christmas pen.

“You got sausage?” He grumbled, letting his eyes trace over the menu in his hands.

“Let me guess, you want something high protein, with a little thing of carbs on the side? Eggs scrambled. Sausage patties, not links. Wheat toast with plenty of butter, and a black coffee?”

“How did you-” she cut him off.

“I’ve been doing this long enough to know. I’ll get that made up for you.” Disappearing into the back, she went to work making his food. This allowed plenty of time for Logan to look at the pictures near the register that were framed.

Different children with beaming smiles, next to their parents or older siblings with matching grins. Families, or big groups made up a couple of the pictures. A particular framed photograph caught his attention. It was the woman that was serving him with an older gentleman, arms wrapped around each other. He held a proud smile on his face while she was just ecstatic. Logan had to assume that was her father, but from that point on he could not pinpoint what was going on in the still.

Sounds of loud trucks rumbling and honking drew his attention to the door. Before anyone knew, a pack of young men were whooping and hollering, cackling and talking so loud like they were the only people in the world, came into the once peaceful diner. Logan just turned his head back to the counter ahead of him while trying not to tell all of them to be quiet in the nastiest way possible.

These boys had disturbed his peace and were not stopping anytime soon. However, the worst of it was the reaction that his waitress had when she came back with his food. The fear on her face was evident as she looked to who he could only assume was the ringleader of the pack. Keeping her gaze low, she put his plates down in front of the big man, before turning around to grab a mug and coffee pot.

“Hey, sweetheart. How about you come over here already? We’ve been waiting for like an hour.” A gruff voice called, to which she only raised her eyes towards.

“Be right there,” came a small squeak from her lips.

She scurried off, taking her notepad and pen with her, and leaving the man that was at the bar. Just because Logan was not looking towards the group behind him, did not mean that he was not paying attention. A wonderful side effect of his mutation being enhanced senses meant that he could at least keep his ears on alert while appearing nonchalant.

Demands flowed out of the mouths of these men as she tried desperately to keep up with their orders. If they were not demanding things from her, they were making the crassest comments they could muster. Nothing that out of ordinary from the places that Logan usually hung out in; but that seemed out of character for such a quaint place.

The woman was kept busy as the men shouted out different orders. She still managed to refill Logan’s coffee, and even get him another round of toast and sausage. Undoubtedly though, her attention was monopolized by the group of men. Logan tried to keep to himself during the whole ordeal, but even he has his limits.

“Sweetheart, need a refill over here.” Someone who was the ringleader, Logan assumed. She brought her coffee pot around to refill their mugs. As she did, the same man placed his hand on her waist causing her to tense up and freeze. The mutant could smell the fear coming off of her in thick waves.

“Please take your hand off of me.” Her whimper made him want to draw his claws.

“Aww hell darling. We’re just having fun here.” A smack sounded through the room, causing the rest of the men around them to erupt in laughter.

“She said hands off, bub.” Their laughter died down once the gruff voice had broken through. His back was still turned, but he was glaring over his shoulder.

“Ain’t no reason to get yourself involved. This is a private matter, bub.” Another round of laughter, but he was not having any of it. Taking his last swig of coffee, who’s only purpose was to keep the chill away for him, Logan jumped off of his seat and let his boots thud their way over to where the young lady was in the pack of wolves.

Not saying a word, Logan ripped the man’s hand off of her, but gently pushed her behind him. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the leader decided to take a swig on him. However, when that fist connected with his adimantium jaw, he quickly realized his mistake. He was screaming in pain and hold his hand to his chest while looking towards Logan with wide eyes. But the mutant was not done yet. Grabbing the man by the lapels of his jacket, he delivered a swift headbutt which left him a bit dazed.

“Now apologize,” came Logan’s demand, once he shook the man into place in front of the woman. He was trying to form a coherent sentence when Logan shook him again.

“Ah! Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, get him to stop.” In the midst of the whimpering, a Wolverine growl caused the men to dispense the money in their wallets on the table. Once they seemed properly terrified of the man in front of them, he opened the front door, and chucked the ringleader out into the snow. The rest of his lackeys followed shortly after, leaving the restaurant quite once more.

Logan used some force to try and shut the door that seemed determined to stay open with the violent winds outside. Once back inside, he looked to the woman that was still a bit stunned from the events that had transpired. She did not look afraid of him, but rather in awe. It was not a reaction that he was used to.

“You okay?” The low grumble of his voice brought her out of her trance.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. That was, um, that was really nice. What you did. Those guys have been bothering me for years,” she rambled, unable to help herself.

“And it looks like you got a pretty good payday out of it.” Their attention was drawn back to the table that was left in a state of disarray.

Half eaten food, and drinks covered the surface, but all that green that was worth it. She started shoving the money into her apron pockets unceremoniously, more intent on getting the table clear. Before her hands could touch a single plate or cup, Logan’s larger hands beat her to it.

“Just tell me where to put it.” She smiled and led him back to the kitchen where she was finally able to help scrap off the food.

They continued like this for a few minutes, having to make multiple trips back and forth. An unusual silence encompassed them, yet, it was not uncomfortable. Simply that each one had thoughts running far too fast to allow themselves conversation.

How a random woman, on some random road, at some random diner, was having Logan clean up someone else’s mess was beyond him. He normally stayed away from people. He was a lone wolf. Logan did not help out where he could for a reason he did not understand, for a reward he would never receive. Or rather, a reward that was not going to be monetary.

“Thank you, again. It’s always such a pain getting those guys handled.” She spoke, wiping down the table once Logan was returned to his spot at the bar.

“No problem. They won’t be coming back anytime soon.” He grumbled, simply enjoying the company.

“Let’s hope. I wish I could have them trespassed, but the big man that you chucked out, Jason, his dad is the sheriff. He’ll just say that it’s boys being boys.” Her lament was paused due to her taking a sip of her hot chocolate that she had made.

‘I’ll pass by here soon and make sure for you.’ Logan thought to himself, trying hard to stare at her beautiful, doe-like eyes.

“I’d appreciate that.” Oh no, he had said that aloud. With a groan, he rubbed his face. Only her giggles let him know that even she had caught him.

“How close are we to Weschester County?”

“New York? About ten or so miles. Got a date,” she teased, causing Logan to smirk just a bit.

“Going to see some old… friends.” The proper name for the people at the school had not crossed his mind yet.

“Sounds about right. Going to be with your people for the holidays. Well, have fun with that. If you ever want a hot meal or to save my diner from catastrophe, you know where to find me.” The slight depressed lit to her voice did not surpass Logan’s sensibilities.

“You got any plans for the holidays?” Seriously, what was happening to him?

“Nah. Parents are both dead. No siblings either. Plus, this place takes so much of my time, it’s hard to have friends. So, I’ll just stay at home until I open for dinner. I usually get a few lone truckers on holidays that can’t make it back to their families.” Her sad smile tugged at Logan’s heartstrings.

Before he could stop himself he offered, “can I come by tomorrow, then?”

Her eyes widened just a bit as she took in his words. Somehow this random man had managed to sneak his way in, and made her blush with a few simple words. Hiding her smile behind another sip of her cocoa, she replied into the steaming mug, ”of course.”

Logan smiled right back at her as she raised her face from its hiding place. His body must have been running on autopilot, because his hand reached across the counter to wipe at her own face. A small line of foam had accumulated above her lips which he removed with a delicate swipe of his thumb. The rest of his fingers rested along her jaw which kept them locked together even with nothing binding them.

With the wind still blowing something furious when Logan went to, reluctantly, leave the diner. But he needed to get to the school. He had promised Rogue that he would be back in time. As she began to close the door behind him with the force necessary, she called out to him.

“Maybe you could give me your name next time?” An impish smirk found itself on her face.

“How else am I gonna keep you interested,” he shot back, opening the truck door.

“Good tidings, stranger.” The diner door was shut, and he just watched her for another few moments. She cleaned up their mugs, but it was obvious that she was distracted as she did. Her smile never left her face either, but Logan assumed his own did the same.

Good tidings, indeed.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — PORT MAFIA! DAZAI X FEM READER X PORT MAFIA! CHUUYA

You’ve been a fangirl of Double Black for years, successfully hiding your hobby right underneath your employers’ noses. When you’re finally ready to give up your immature infatuation after years of pining, Dazai finds out - and he’s ready to have a little fun. 

wc — 3.1k

tags — mdni, mild degradation, praise, delayed orgasms, dacryphilia, Chuuya doesn’t show up until the very end but he has imagined scenes

You’ve always held an attraction to the darker sides of life. How else do you end up working for the mafia if you don’t? It’s something your boss, Dazai, always said - you have to be crazy to be here. 

And you must be crazy, because Double Black, your direct superiors, are two even crazier bastards, and you’ve been getting yourself off to them every night, imagining it’s Dazai’s fingers in your dripping cunt, Chuuya’s chest pressed against your back. You want them so bad it’s made you sloppy and desperate, years of suppressed feelings bubbling to the surface whenever you catch sight of them. 

It doesn’t help that they are the way they are. Dazai is a flirt in all the worst ways, asking if you’d spread your legs for him on his desk when you return a report. You had squeaked and backed up into Chuuya, who had told him to fuck off and guided you to the door. His hands are surprisingly soft, not like that of a mafia grunt. 

That night, you had come three times with Dazai’s name on your lips and two more with Chuuya’s. 

It’s not like you see them often, being the assistant of an assistant of an assistant and so on, far, far down the line. You’re grateful for that, because you’re sure it’s it’s the only thing that kept you from making the dumb mistake you just made before now. 

Dazai plucks the journal from your hand, eyes narrowing. Venom drips from his voice as he snarls, “Is this mafia work? How many times do we have to remind everyone that we don’t leave a paper trail? Do I just have idiots working under me?” 

“Sir,” you stammer. “I-um.” Without thinking, you’ve already started reaching for the journal, your body on autopilot. You need it back. 

It’s not mafia work. It’s even worse. It’s your journal of Double Black’s endeavors, filled with your thoughts detailed in glitter pen next to cut outs of newspapers and pictures of them. Humiliating, the work of the much younger girl you’d been when you made it. You had found it under your bed, a relic from when you had first joined the mafia, and just your luck - Dazai had found it as you were about to throw it out. 

Fury is written all over his features as he sneers, “Did you just try to take this from me?” 

He flips it open. You’ve never seen Dazai surprised. Even then, his control over himself is immaculate. His eyes widen only a fraction, his breath hitches once. Then, he grins. That look can’t mean anything good for you. 

“Oh,” Dazai says. “How cute - you’re a fan.” 

You try to protest, but Dazai’s already made up his mind, and you’re caught up in his schemes. That’s how it always is - what Dazai wants, Dazai gets, and right now, he wants to play with you. 

“Do you like me?” Your mouth falls open and you shake your head, stammering, but your cheeks feel hot. Even if every action you made wasn’t a dead giveaway, this is Dazai. He would be able to tell even if you were the most accomplished liar in the world. 

“Oh, you cute little thing,” he purrs, watching you panic. “You do.” 

He stalks closer until your only options are moving forward into his chest or back into the wall. “Do you fuck yourself at night, thinking of me? What was it like? I can imagine you grinding down on one of your toys, frustrated because it’s not my cock in you. Aw, maybe you couldn’t come without imagining me.” 

Your eyes widen in embarrassment. “Sir! That’s not appropriate!” 

He taps your chest lightly with the journal, chuckling. You can tell what he thinks of you - some obsessed little girl who was new to the mafia, in over her head. “I think we’ve crossed that line a long time ago,” he says. “There’s a more important question to answer. Do you want it?” 

You wet your lips with your tongue, thinking, and his gaze snags on that enticing gloss over your lips. He’s watching you the way a lion watches prey, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs. 

He could be teasing. This could lead to way worse things. But you’ve been wanting this ever since you joined the Port Mafia, years of yearning. You can’t afford to give up this chance. 

“Yes,” you whimper underneath his searing gaze. “I want you.”

It’s embarrassing for him to be in your bedroom, seeing the true depth of your obsession with Double Black, but he had refused to take you to his. He outright laughs when he catches sight of a wanted poster you had stolen from a notice board and pinned up across from your bed. 

He doesn’t wait for you to give him directions, sitting down on your bed immediately. “Come here,” he says, patting his lap impatiently. 

Slowly, you make your way to him, thighs spread, one on either side of his legs, hovering over him. He flips your skirt up and coos at your pretty panties. One slender finger runs itself up that damp spot that’s already appeared on your the white fabric, and you shudder over him, gripping onto his shoulder for support. 

His other hand skims your leg, runs up your side, and tugs lightly at your shirt before he pulls it straight off of you, revealing your matching bra. He’s a tease, as you’d known he would be. 

He snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, murmuring, “Did you plan this? Coordinated just for me? Oh,” he grins like the thought just occurred to him. “Did you mean for me to see that journal and come back here to fuck you until you cried?” 

“No,” you cry out, rocking on his fingers, desperate for the little amount of friction he’s giving you right now as he toys with your clit over the fabric. “Didn’t- mmh!” You curl over him, trying to get him to touch you more. 

He smirks. “Already? So easy for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying on your bed, back pressed against the silk sheets. The Port Mafia, at least, paid well. That’s why you can forgive him as he grabs a fistful of your underwear and rips it right off of you. It stings, but somehow, it feels nice at the same time. He smoothes a hand over your stomach, then dips his head. 

“I’ll buy you another set,” he promises, sucking fresh bruises into your thighs. Marking you up. You squeak as he bites down, then laves his tongue over it in apology. “I’ll buy you as many as you want if you’re a good girl for me.” 

You whimper, too strung out to think of a verbal response besides please, and I want you, Dazai, and, make me cum. 

You’re pliant as he nudges his way between your legs, but try to squirm away when he whistles at the mess he finds between your thighs. It’s humiliating, the way you’re spread for him, completely naked, and he’s still clothed. 

He slides two fingers through your folds, not entering you yet, but already his fingers are wet enough to shine in the dim light of your room. With his thumb, he circles your clit. It makes you jolt like you’ve hit a live wire. He does it again, and presses down harder. You don’t miss the way his eyes flash as he watches you thrash, the way his dress pants are straining against a bulge. 

He kisses you for the first time since he found you in the hallway with Double Black paraphernalia in your hand, hot tongue sliding against yours in a way that would make your knees weak if you weren’t already on your back for him. He kisses like you think he would fuck - with a raw intensity that leaves you dazed and wanting more. Not that you would ever stop wanting whatever he could give you.

Idly, he rubs your clit while sucking a hickey onto your neck, distracting you as two fingers enter you at once, a burn that has you crying out into his mouth. 

“Sh,” he says against your lips. “I know, I know. I’ll make you feel good in a minute, I promise.” 

He’s sweet as he preps you, fingers moving at an agonizing pace to avoid hurting you, but not giving you what you want, either. The pleasure of his thumb playing with your clit dulls the pain, but you’re left wondering - if this is just his fingers, what would his dick feel like?

He noses against your cheek. “Hey. What are you thinking about, baby? I haven’t even put my cock in you yet and you’re already out of it?” 

You like it when he calls you baby. He doesn’t seem like the type to dole out pet names, but he can’t help it when you clench around him like that every time he uses it. 

The noises of his fingers slipping in out of you, made louder by the sheer amount of slick dripping out of you, is embarrassing in a room quiet of anything but Dazai’s candy coated words and your panting. You fling an arm over your face, but just as fast, he pushes it back down over your head. He leaves his hand splayed over your wrist for just a minute, a silent warning not to move. 

You know he likes watching you squirm though, likes the way you fall apart beneath him and can’t control your own body. It’s okay. He’ll do it for you. 

“I want to see your face,” he says. “Don’t hide from me.” 

He rips a sob out of you as he settles into a steady pace. His hands are so pretty you think you could get yourself off just looking at them, elegant, pale, long fingers. He catches you watching them slip in and out of your cunt, transfixed by the sight of your own slick on him, a fantasy come to life. 

You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and trying to grind down against him, bucking your hips for more, more, more. Not even five minutes ago you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the stretch, but now you’re begging him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

He coos faux-sympathetically. “Aw, I know, baby. You want Chuuya here too, don’t you? Greedy little thing. My fingers just aren’t enough, huh?” 

He laughs when you whine and shake your head beneath him, tears sliding off your cheeks. With a glint in his eyes, he leans down to kiss one right off your nose. He’s always wondered how they would taste. 

You can’t hold yourself still beneath him, eyes rolling back in your head as you simultaneously try to grind yourself down against his fingers and back away. He makes the decision for you, spreading your already open legs wider so he can grind his palm against your clit. Your legs quiver as your mouth opens in a silent moan, every nerve on fire. You’re too blissed out to speak. He relishes in knowing how to play your body already. 

“Ah - ah,” he frowns condescendingly. “You’re such a squirmer. Is it because you want Chuuya to come hold you down while I fuck you?” 

You almost cum right then and there from the picture he paints in your mind. Chuuya’s pale hands pinning your wrists down so you can’t thrash away from Dazai and ruin your own orgasm, as you have been doing accidentally without the boys to take care of you. To control you the way you want to be controlled. 

Chuuya, his chest against your back as he spreads you wider for Dazai to take whatever he wants. Chuuya’s voice in your ear, calling you baby and sweetheart and his pretty little slut as Dazai makes you cum until you’re crying for them, makes you beg for it. Chuuya, rubbing your clit as Dazai sinks into your pretty cunt, making you cum before he’s even fully inside of you. Chuuya, transfixed by the way your pussy flutters around Dazai’s cock. 

“Please,” you beg, though it’s indistinguishable from the other noises you’re making. 

Dazai croons he pats your cheek. “Poor little thing, too stuffed full to talk? It’s okay, I already know what you need.” 

“Dazai,” you half moan. “Want you. And Chuuya.” 

“I wonder if you can come with just words,” he pants, pulling his belt off. “That’d be so hot. I think you can, baby, don’t you? You like my voice so much you’re creaming all over me and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.” 

There must be something wrong with you, because otherwise why would that mocking tone of his send you over the edge? 

You agree mindlessly, as you have been to whatever’s he’s been saying for the past few minutes. Dazai must like his own voice as much as you do because he keeps up a stream of praise and light degradation and filthy words that make you clench as he finally pushes into you. 

He groans, throwing his head back so you can see his Adam’s apple bob. You’re entranced by it, the rough way he swallows. He feels your eyes on him and brings his gaze back to you. Sweaty and half clothed, somehow he manages to look like a conquering king rather than a debauched sinner. Such is Dazai’s nature. He makes even immorality look good. 

The prodigy Dazai never has to work hard for anything - less than half a minute and he has you seeing stars, slurring his name like a prayer to a god who’s answered in all the wrong ways. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s right, take it all. Oh, you liked that. Don’t deny it,” he grins wickedly as you shake your head no, feeling embarrassment creep into you even though what more is there to be embarrassed of, when he’s already seen everything? “I felt you get wetter. I won’t be so nice when Chuuya’s here, but you’ll like it, I promise.” 

He fucks into you at a steady pace that has you clawing at the sheets, whining and digging your heels into his back. You want him as close as possible. You want him to fuck you right back into that mind blowing pleasure you had felt earlier, when your thoughts had gone blessedly silent in bliss, nothing but pleasure dancing on your fried nerves. 

You can feel it coming, even better than before, thighs trembling in anticipation. And then he rips it all away from you, the dull tingle of your high receding back into your veins. You’re whining about how much you want to cum before you can stop yourself, too far gone to care about things like embarrassment. It’s a look Dazai loves on you. 

“Dazai,” you whimper, less a complaint than a plea because he’s in charge and you’ve known it from the beginning.  

“Mm.” He smiles down at you, a wicked sort of slant of teeth that has you in the palm of his hand. “Call me Osamu and I might give you what you want.” 

“Osamu?” You try, hopeful. 

“Nah.” He flips you over so you’re straddling his hips, him still buried inside of you. “Earn it.” 

Slowly, you rise up until just the tip of his cock remains inside of you, and sink back down until you find your rhythm. He cups your ass, helping you along until you can feel it again, that tension in the pit of your stomach. 

A noise cuts through the sound of flesh on flesh. Dazai’s phone rings as you bounce on his cock, and he picks up. You freeze and stare at him incredulously. He makes an annoyed face at you and gestures for you to keep going, and impossibly, you do. 

You’ll listen to any command he gives you, on the battlefield and in the bedroom. 

But you don’t have to take this lying down. You grind against him in a way that has your breath stuttering, but you underestimated him. Dazai has no shame - he moans as loudly and freely as he wants, then continues his conversation, only hanging up when he’s finished. 

He grins up at you, his hands settling on your hips again, directing your movement. “I had your room moved next to mine. Oh, Chuuya’s there too, I guess.” 

At the sound of Chuuya’s name, your hips stutter, and Dazai takes the chance to regain control. He forces your body to open for him, and oh, he’s never looked so good as he does when he’s serious, thrusting against you with a litany of throaty moans. Every roll of his hips as you seeing stars as he brings you back to that place that makes you hot and cold all over. 

He’s doing it again. “No, Dazai!” You keen, pressing your heels against his back like you can keep him in, but he’s so much stronger than you. He raises an eyebrow. 

“No?” 

“Osamu, please,” you think you might crying. Over dick. The best you’ve ever had, but still. It’s a little hot and a little humiliating and you can’t think about anything but how much you need to cum on his cock right now. 

“Say ‘thank you for giving me your cock, Osamu,’” he commands, and you fall all over yourself to comply even when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you drool and slur around them. 

“Than- thank you for - for giving me your -“ you squeal out as he bucks his hips up into you. “Cock! Osamu, fuck, thank you, thank you, pleaseiwantit-“

“Didn’t need to say all that,” he says, sly smirk gracing his lips again as he finally, finally, slips his hand between your legs. All it takes is one little brush of his fingers against your sore clit and you’re cumming for him, body locking in place as your back arches. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Can’t even move when your cunt’s so tight.” But you can’t hear him, pussy still spasming around him like you’re trying to draw him in. 

“Hello?” Chuuya’s annoyed voice accompanies the heavy knocking at your door. “Dazai, I swear to god, you dumb mackerel, if you sent me on another wild goose chase I’ll rip your fucking head off!” 

The thumping gets louder, as if he’s trying to break the door down. With his strength, it’s only a matter of time, too. You give Dazai a wide eyed look of panic, but he’s smiling, pushing his hair, damp with sweat, out of his eyes. 

“Well?” Dazai grins. “You going to answer him, baby?” 

[eden-writes-stuff]

Hi, I hope you're doing well!

I was wondering if you could write something about Luna and Harry coming up with a plan for their moms to fall in love, and for they can be siblings.

It's an idea I've had for a while and I think it's really fun.

OMG I love this idea. So cute!

Tags: fluff, comfort, kids being silly, setup, Regulus being a great parent / uncle side ships: wolfstar, jegulus

Luna spread the paper on the couch table and placed her crayons beside it.

"Operation: bring Pandora and Lily together so we can be siblings - BPALTSWCBS." 

Harry pulled out his glitter pens. "I did my research over last week."

Research, in this case, being a Romance-movie-marathon with his uncles over the weekend. They had very much supported him when he'd confided in them and told them their plan. Or at least the general idea which they needed the plan for. 

 "Great. Tell me what you've learned." She pulled the cap off of one of the glitter gels and got ready to write.

"Well, most of them were with a man and a woman, but I think it works either way", he started and Luna nodded. "So, there was one where they were working on a project together and then they got locked in at their office and had to cuddle to keep warm." "But our moms don't work together." Harry hesitated for a moment. "we could get them to organise your birthday party together?" Luna thought about it, then wrote it down.

"There was another one with two men where they got locked in together in a room and then some woman threatened their lives unless they kiss." The six-year-old grinned and put it above the other idea.

"For the next one we'd have to wait until yule, but maybe you can convince your grandparents to ask your mum if she has found someone yet and then she freaks out and brings my mum as a fake date, so they stop annoying her." "She doesn't really care about their opinions so that probably won't work..."

"Alright. The one where the woman wants to get married before her sister is also out because aunt Petunia is already married..." "So our only option to make them be happy together is to threaten their lives?", Luna summarised. "Yeah, I think so."

"Great. But we need to make them believe it. Maybe we could get a dragon from somewhere." "Or a serial killer. Hey, papa." Harry looked up from their plan on the table, as Regulus walked in. "What do you need a serial killer for, mon coeur?", he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Harry and Luna shared a glance. "You need to promise not to tell anyone. This is a top-secret mission." Harry leaned in a bit and Regulus nodded slowly. "We're trying to get mom to go out with Panda, so they fall in love and get married and then we can be siblings", he half-whispered. 

"But we're not sure, how to do it yet. Our best idea is to threaten their lives so that they kiss", Luna added, shrugging.

Regulus nodded. It was best not to question a child's logic, not to mention that it sounded like something that might actually work if executed properly. Plus, as Pandora's confidante, he knew that she had fancied the redhead since they were teenagers.

Harry looked up at him. "How did you and dad get together?" The pale man attempted to answer a few times, but eventually just shook his head. "I think that's a story for another time. I do have an idea, however. Do you want to hear it?" They both nodded excitedly.

"Maybe you need to approach it from the other side. You tell them you want to spend a sibling-day with your favourite moms. You know, go to the park, have a movie night... That way you force them to spend time together and see how adorable you two are."

The children shared a few looks. "But then we don't get to threaten their lives..." "We can still do that if plan A doesn't work." "Hmmm.... okay."

Luna wrote it on the paper with a crayon. "Thank you, uncle Reggie. You can leave now. We need to work out the details."

[always-andromeda]

aaaAAA valentines prompts are here!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) weeee please spare some white chocolate truffle for love of my life dwayne? thank you dearest, compliments to the chef (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

– 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aHH okay this was super cute!! I hope you enjoy this one, anon!! also lmao, yes, the title is a song. it's from Yellow House and it always reminds me of Dwayne. <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Dwayne is aged up to be high school senior, pure fluff, bits of Dwayne being a little pessimistic guy, nothing else I can think of!

First period hadn't even started yet and already you could tell that Dwayne was itching for the final bell. He sighed, folding his hands together and resting his chin on top of them. You watched him peer out from under his curtain of dark hair at a few students around you both exchanging cards, candies, and little stuffed toys. 

"Doing okay there, Dwayne?" you asked as you unloaded your textbook and your binder.

He threw you a sideways glance and replied blankly, "I'm a ray of sunshine." Whatever modicum of patience he usually had in school was drained entirely by Valentine's Day.

"Oh, yeah. You're looking especially chipper today."

This time, Dwayne turned to look at you fully with his brow furrowed.

"It's a joke."

"Have you seen what's been going on today?"

"Uh, yeah, it's a holiday," you shrugged.

"It's bullshit. It's an excuse for fucking candy and card companies to make a killing," he sneered. "Because if you don't buy your boyfriend or girlfriend a stupid piece of paper that says 'I love you' then you're obviously a bad person, right?"

You scoffed, "Not exactly."

That earned another scowl from Dwayne.

"Listen, I get what you mean. It can be superficial and overbearing sometimes, I guess." You struggled to conjure the right words to explain yourself in a way that Dwayne would understand, "But...it's nice sometimes, ya know? It's nice to have someone show that they thought about you."

"Please," Dwayne dismissed. "It's not about thought or care. It's all...bullshit social transactions that no one is gonna give a shit about after we graduate anyways. It's just...dumb."

Placing a hand over the top of your binder defensively, the more Dwayne spoke, the more you found a lump forming in your throat. It made it even harder to speak as you choked out, "Dumb?"

"Yeah. And...gross," he huffed with an air of stubbornness. He'd never been particularly fond of the holiday; the unnecessary drama of couples asking each other to be their Valentine and the gossip that came from rejections for days afterwards. But...you thought...

With a new wave of frustration, you flipped open the cover of your binder and pulled a card out from the inside flap. You slid it across the top of the table in Dwayne's direction. "Then there's a stupid card for you, Dwayne. Happy Valentine's Day," you added bitterly.

Dwayne froze. Already, the cover threw him off. There was the haunting phrase of the day written out in your handwriting and above it, a drawing of a bouquet of flowers in glitter gel pens. Slowly, he opened the card, finding more of your handwriting hiding inside.

I know this is super cliche. And you're probably going to roll your eyes at me when you read this. Promise me you won't hate me too much. Or at least promise me you'll spare me the embarrassment and forget this immediately after you read it. I just had to try at least once. But I really like you. Will you be my Valentine?

With your head hidden in your folded arms, you could only guess what you and Dwayne looked like to the rest of your classmates. Already, you were anticipating how that scene would get spun. Everyone talked about how you and Dwayne were bound to end up together, seeing as you're one of the only people that would willingly hang around with the reclusive guy. And one of the only people that he would actually let hang around him.

Your first thought after that was to think about Dwayne. He didn't like being the center of attention. Being talked about like this would be the most aggravating thing in the world. And god, it frustrated you that even when he was being a jerk, you still worried about him.

Then you felt a poke on your shoulder. You raised your head and found Dwayne, still looking at the card and tracing the flowers on the cover. But this time his hand was on the table, open with his palm facing up. Inviting you to grab it. Which you do, quickly.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he muttered.

You sniffed softly. "That's okay."

"I like the card."

"Thanks."

“And I'll be–" Dwayne paused. "I'll be your Valentine."

The exhilaration inside you flared so intensely that you couldn't help but squeeze his hand in return. And Dwayne also couldn't help the tiny smile that formed on his lips when he felt the warmth of your sweaty hand enveloping his. Maybe both of you could be right about Valentine's Day. It was gross. But...nice. Very nice.

[ginneke]

Instincts

(aka, what can be found in the heart, or somewhere like it).

A @flashfictionfridayofficial promptfic.

--

When I first had an inkling of this idea, it was meant to be Link POV of a missing scene from the start of ch3 of Seed of Song. Then Revali stole it, and this prompt got me to finally write it.

(This becomes infinitely funnier after @avenin was doodling sleep-deprived Revali + chick earlier this evening as well. Yes we were watching the same osprey livestream what of it.)

--

The fire crackles and spits, launching red-hot embers into empty space.

Eyes closed, Revali imagines himself back at his Flight Range—comfortably alone and resting, for a little while, just like this: listening to the lapping tongues of the fire and the murmurs of a distant wind...

Imagination only serves to illuminate the utter futility of his wish to be anywhere else. This place is nothing like the Flight Range. The air is much too stuffy; the barracks' stone walls are stifling, and the space doesn't breathe as a building ought. Even the faint whisper of a breeze through the open window does little to keep the suffocating closeness at bay.

The sounds are all wrong, as well: no companionable creak of a hammock-rope overhead; no faint, distant hum of Vah Medoh turning watchful circles through the sky above him.

Instead there's a faint, incessent scratching sound. It goes on for a long, long time.

No, this place is nothing at all like his Flight Range. He is caged in, confined, and is altogether much too warm. He desperately wants to be rid of it. Revali struggles to quash his roiling distaste for being forced into such close quarters with another person. He cannot entirely succeed. It's like standing near an improperly-stored Shock Arrow, an unpleasant prickling that sparks under his skin and turns the tips of his feathers to barbs, leaving him battling the urge to get as far away as he can—

As if sensing the turn of his thoughts, the hatchling startles awake.

Revali cracks open one eye and cranes his head to study it. It doesn't look to be hungry, nor in any kind of significant distress. It roots around in blind, listless confusion, still coming to terms with the world outside its eggshell.

This fragile helpless thing wouldn't have survived a day without a fellow Rito's care. Revali reminds himself it's for the best that he's here, and that its wellbeing hasn't been left to the clumsy, haphazard efforts of a Hylian... but even for him, this is unfamiliar territory. He's largely ignorant of what its care entails. The best he can hope for is to keep the hatchling alive until it can become somebody else's problem.

A disquietening thought, and one which stirs bleak memories better left forgotten.

Revali sighs, repositions the chick so that it is better covered by his folded wing, and closes his eyes once more, chasing the illusion of rest. It remains elusive.

And that damnable scratching won't cease. It nudges at the edge of his hearing, incessant: scrape, scratch, scrape.

Under normal circumstances, the scratch of a metal nib against paper would be a sound familiar enough to be comforting. Revali reaches for the comfort of pen and ink often enough. Today, though, it only makes him long for his diary and the chance to sort through his jumbled, tumultuous thoughts.

He cracks open an eye, affixing his ire on the faint silhouette sat just in front of the hearth. "Would it be so impossible for you to cease that racket?"

The scratch of Link's pen pauses mid-motion. His curious sense of industry doesn't bear the cadence of a letter. The sounds are too elongated for script. Revali finds that disconcerting; he has no idea what Link is up to. He doesn't entirely want to know; only the thought that Link might be reporting back on the root cause of their delay gives him any reason to wonder...

Link's downcast eyes glitter lowly in the light. Revali bristles, certain that it's just a ruse.

"What, pray tell, are you looking at?"

At least Link has the decency of looking somewhat abashed—or whatever is meant to pass for embarrassment on those dull, expressionless features. He puts the pen down in an unhurried motion, blows on the paper—scattering a fine layer of dust in the process—and stoppers up his ink. Only then does he lift his head properly.

"Nothing," he insists.

Once, the sound of Link speaking would have been a novelty — something he never expected to hear. The sporadic proof that he can, and always could, is more jarring than it ought to be. Revali doesn't know what to make of this newfound willingness to...

He's torn away from that thought by the chick, which jerks awake with a high-pitched squeak of distress. The sound hooks into Revali's chest, lodging behind his heart and tugging until he forgets all else. He lowers his head to the hapless infant, trying to determine what might be wrong...

In the corner of his vision, the fire flares. Revali notices it with vague detachment. It's immaterial: the thing that matters most is the chick and whatever is causing it distress. Is it warm enough? too warm? hungry? He doesn't know, and the lack of certainty confounds and frustrates him.

"Here," Link mumbles, passing across the remains of the duck he'd caught earlier.

At that point, it becomes easy to fall back into a rhythm of trying, and trying again, to coax the chick into whatever instincts are driving it. (Revali is more than a little perturbed by the evidence of his own instincts on display.) He doesn't remember what it was like to be an infant as young as this; he has no way of recalling how she managed. If only he could ask. Revali isn't coping at all. He can't even hunt for himself; there's no way he could be the sole provider and guardian of a chick. As galling and infuriating as his presence is, it cannot be denied that Link's insistence on staying has accomplished some good...

—

Revali jolts awake into a night that's almost silent. He listens out for any disturbance. Only the low hum of the Flight Range answers. The murmur of the wind cannot drive the sense of solitude away; it can't fill the hollowed-out void in his chest.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hello can you do the prompt 22. ‘’How can you be so blind?’’ with Ajax Petropolus please :)

—

As the tradition followed, cards were distributed to respective students on Valentine's Day morning. Reactions varying from glee to surprise, confusion and disappointment.

You took a subtle glance at Ajax, watching him opening his card. By the surprise on his face, he was not expecting anything. A shy smile curled on his lips as he read the message, followed by a frown when unable to find the identity of the writer. He showed it to Xavier, whispering something, but the psychic shrugged.

‘’Maybe it’s Enid? The paper is pink and written in sparkly gel-pen,’’ you heard Xavier say during lunch. 

He and Ajax were sitting together in the quad two tables behind you and you could hear their conversations almost perfectly. 

‘’Enid?’’ Ajax sounded unsure. ‘’I don’t know…’’

‘’Or the girl who sits behind you in history? Gorgons are shy. Maybe that’s why she didn’t sign her name.’’

‘’Kendra? That's a good guess!’’

You sighed sadly.

Later in werewolf reproduction class, Ajax sat at his usual seat beside you and slipped you the mysterious card. You thought he had finally figured it out that it was from you, but ended up disappointed the moment he opened his mouth.

‘’Y/N? You’re a girl, right?’’

You rolled your eyes as you took your textbook and opened it to the page indicated on the chalkboard. ‘’According to my birth certificate, yes,’’ you replied with a chuckle.

‘’It’s gonna sound weird but, could you help me decipher who wrote this valentine?’’

Your face dropped, just like your hopes of Ajax reciprocating your feelings. 

You faked a smile. ‘’Sure.’’

‘’Xavier thinks it’s Enid, but she put glitter in all the cards she sent this year and this one didn’t have any. You sit beside Kendra in Botany class, right? Do you recognize her handwriting?’’

Boys are so dumb, you decided as you made your way to your dorm to scream into your pillow. Your roommate was on a date with some siren so no one would hear your laments or see you ugly crying over a dumb boy.

Ajax was cute and clueless, but his cluelessness was making you want to put magnifying glasses over his pretty brown eyes so he could see all the hints you've been dropping about your feelings for him. You even tried to ask him out on a date a few times, but he didn't get that you wanted to do that activity with him — only him. 

You took a turn to take the stairs that would get you to Ophelia hall and collided with the one person you didn’t want to see.

‘’Sorry!’’ Ajax quickly apologized although you were the one not looking where you were going, too caught up in your frustrations. His hands grabbed your arm before you could kiss the floor.

If you hadn’t been so upset, you would have internally screamed at this rom-com-esque moment.

‘’I…I’m avoiding Bianca. She’s looking for me,’’ he said before you asked any questions.

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion. ‘’Bianca is your...mystery valentine?’’

‘’No!’’ Ajax immediately corrected you, holding his hand. ‘’God, no. She’s looking for Xavier. Not me.’’ He shook his head, laughing awkwardly at the thought of going on a date with Bianca Barclay. She was out of his league and not at all his type. ‘’She tried to make plans with him in hopes to get back together, but he’s not interested in rekindling and went hiding in his art shed. Please, do not tell Bianca where he is.’’

‘’His secret is safe,’’ you promised. ‘’Have you found who your mystery valentine is?’’ You tried to conceal your heartache and kept your voice casual. 

He shook his head, visibly disappointed. ‘’No. Unfortunately.’’ 

The pink card was peaking from his blazer pocket, right over his heart. It almost made you smile.

‘’I even asked Enid, but she didn't—’’ 

‘’How can you be so blind?’’ you asked out of frustration, the words slipping from your mouth. ‘’It was me who sent you that card. Me. Not Enid. Not the gorgon girl sitting behind you in history. Me.’’

You held your breath, bracing yourself for having your heart crushed, but that's not what happened.

‘’Why didn’t you say anything?’’ Ajax asked, his lips curling into a soft smile, feeling a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.

‘’I tried — many times —, but you never got the hints. I even used a strawberry scented gel-pen because I know you love strawberries.’’

‘’That's what smelled so good every time I opened the card!‘’

You laughed nervously.

‘’Do you...do you want to go for a walk? It's a lame date, but curfew is in an hour so there's not much to do.‘’

You nodded and Ajax took your hand in his, smiling.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r

 @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar  @aphex2winn @moompie  @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa @silenzju @ar40s @sweeterheartxamerica @renaissancewhxre @jordierama @lilppsblog @harrystylesfp  @katsuki420 @ravenssh1t @izzy-laufeyson @iluvwomenblog @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag  @lilaconner @katsukis1wife @momoewn  @amithesimpoffandoms @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs  @lyxrix @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @lucassinclairsgf @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation @aabananaa @starrrslove @marissapearle @sshesang @scarxvodka

[sashkapi]

Do you have an character design about Kendall’s unseen older sister? And do you have any headcanons about her also?

I had designed her quite a while ago and apparently forgot to post. Sowwy QmQ

Linda "Linnie" Perkins :)

She is based on a bg character from "Spelling Bee", and according to Sandro we did see Linnie as a background character so you bet my ass was onto every blonde teen girl in the show jfjxjkdnvkjdv

AW YEAH, HEADCANON TIME

1. She used to be a cheerleader. But then her team found out she cheated on her initiation and got kicked out. (She immediately told a loser she had to date that they would be fake dating. She still didn't tell him about the final step of initiation, so Linnie was being just as cruel as cheerleaders.)

2. After getting kicked out, she actually joined the girl's soccer team and still does gymnastics. Girl genuinely enjoys sports.

3. Just like Brad with Kick, Linnie bullies Kendall, although she doesn't get "physical" often. Linnie would rather get some rats into Kendall's room or pour glue in her shampoo than pulling her hair.

As a note: Linnie still absolutely would pull Kendall's hair. Pictured above.

4. She calls Brad "Car-crash". The first time they actually talked was when Linnie was getting her driver's license and Brad was redoing the test for his. Now guess how Brad's test went.

5. She and Brad are sorta friends. Yes, Brad used to hit on her, but after learning that she used to be a cheerleader he kinda backed out (Kelly trauma). Linnie, of course, wasn't interested in him at all, but their shared "interest" in bullying their younger siblings made them unlikely friends. 

Or "Girlboss adopts a Boyloser"

(Brad still hits on her from time to time. The answer is always no.)

6. Already mentioned in my Kendall headcanons, but Linnie also has a cat named "Gretel". While Kendall dots on Hansel and frequently calls her nice names, Linnie treats Gretel like "Oh lawd, here comes that big fat idiot! Who's a big fat idiot? You are! Who has no thoughts in that little skull of yours? You have!". She does it lovingly of course. She loves Gretel.

7. The reason Kendall was getting a soccer ball in "Tattler's tale"? It wasn't hers, it was Linnie's. Kendall and Linnie used to play soccer in their backyard when they were younger, something they don't do anymore due to their strained relationship. Kendall is quite sentimental girl deep down, she didn't want something that has such good memories connected to it getting lost.

Linnie knows that Kendall got that ball back and while she didn't say anything - she really appreciated it.

Got her pink glitter pen in secret as a thanks.

8. Linnie doesn't have a "posse". She has her soccer team. That is kinda like her posse. After cheerleading and some "practice" when she used to play with Kendall - becoming an ace on a field didn't take long for her.

She is genuinely friends with her teammates tho.

9. She is actually really strong. Physically. Even by athletic standards. She can easily pick up several people without breaking a sweat.

After thinking that she is among the strongest people in her school (and later college) - witnessing Gunther's strength made her low-key terrified of him. ("Like wdym he can pick up several BULLS?! AND FREELY RUN WITH THEM?!?!")

10. Yes, she is beefing with Kelly now. Kelly is the one who found out about her initiation cheating and is the reason Linnie got kicked out from the cheerleading squad after all.

Brad 🤝 Linnie   Fuck Kelly

11. One of her ways to bully Kendall is to ruin her clothes. The reason Kendall's pink-green sweaters are fine? "No matter what I do, I can not ruin those ugly sweaters even more"

12. Linnie knew about Kendall's crush on Kick for a while. She didn't use it in her bullying because she has standards.

And she kinda just doesn't care.

13. Linnie go-to derogatory nickname for Kendall is "sissy". Just in case Kendall tries to snitch like "she calls me names!" to their dad, Linnie can spin it as "Oh my silly sis! I was calling you sis, you silly!"

14. Once Kick and Kendall started dating, Linnie extended her bullying onto Kick too. Only when the two of them are together, tho. Linnie isn't interested in picking on Kick alone, so she just ignores him (unless she's with Brad, in which case she just passively helps older Buttowski).

Don't ask Kick and Kendall how many of their dates were ruined by their older siblings.

15. Additionally, to the previous one: Linnie calls Kick "Pipsqueak" (Perkins' "call Kick "Kick"" challenge: impossible)

[joonlaksme]

October 17th

Park Jimin x Camboy

Contains: Gender Neutral Reader

Word count: 700+

Kinktober Masterlist

-

“Today, I wanted to show you these…things I found.” Jimin starts buttoning down his shirt. “For some reason, you really wanted to see my chest so I worked really hard to make it look pretty for you.”

Covering his nipples are heart shaped pasties that are a nice shade of red. All over the rest of his chest and stomach is covered in red glitter. It’s a light bringer in person than on camera but his viewers are going crazy. Men, women, and everyone in between are in love with everything Jimin but this is the first time in his 2 year long camboy career that he’s shown his chest.

“What should we do today? Any suggestions?” He leans in closer to his monitor and reads the fast messages. “Take them off? I don’t think so. I’m a bit nervous about that.” Jimin is lying but he enjoys slowly revealing himself to his fans rather than just giving them what they want. It keeps them coming back for more, pointing out a new slither of skin when they see it.

Jimin wiggles down his shorts a bit along with his underwear, his cock hitting his glitter dusted stomach. “I’ve been actually hard for a bit. I had this really…interesting dream.”

And immediately his viewers ask what it was about.

Immediately his imagination flashes with thoughts about you. Guilty, he takes his cock into his hand and strokes it, lips subtly mouthing your name before he starts telling the details of his wet dream.

“They were wearing this…really eye catching black dress. A lot of it was blurry and we weren’t even in a fancy place or a club or anything like that. We were in my room. They were dressed for me, I think.” He huffs out. “They never said a thing the whole time. They just looked at me…like they were ready to devour me.”

Jimin sits back in his chair, closing his eyes to relive and soak in his memories. He could remember this particular dream feeling and looking more realistic than his typical nonsensical ones. Edges were blurry but you were there in complete detail. “I felt weighted, too. Like I had to get on my knees.”

He opens his eyes again, this time they’re glossy. He glances at this chat and chuckles. They’re begging for him to get to the best part already, anticipating this story and what exactly had Park Jimin hard all day.

“They never took off any of their clothes but they pushed me on my bed. I remember them…” and he exhales.

He’s already close at the thought of what you did next. You, his coworker at his boring office job. His job where no one knows his secret camboy side work. Why he’s able to afford all these name brands, and the apartment he lives in at his age.

No one knew expect for you. You never held this knowledge over his head but you did look at him in a different way. You flirted with him and bent over to pick up pens a little too often. You knew the way it affected him so you would smirk and blow a kiss his way. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you these past few days.

He hopes you’re watching right now.

Jimin cums in his hands before he can finish his story, quickly apologizing to his viewers. His cheeks are flamed pink with embarrassment. He could usually last long than that but today seems to be the exception. For the duration of the stream, after cleaning up, he spends the last five minutes conversing and making promises to edge in his next one.

He says bye with his lips pursed and then lays back on his chair with a sigh. What a mess, both literally and figuratively. Then he hears his phone go off in a call. It’s not often that people call him so it peaks his interest and he’s standing up and grabbing his phone from his carefully crafted, wooden bookshelf. You’re calling him.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer but maybe he should have. “He-“ His voice cracks and he clears his throat, “Hello?”

There’s silence at first. A thick silence. But then you’re telling him your address very slowly. You tell him to be there as fast as he can. You finish the call by saying that you’d like to hear him finish his story. Jimin lips part but then he’s rushing to shove his wallet, phone, and keys in his pockets.

He’s so glad you knew he was thinking about you.

-

All likes, reblogs, and comment feedback are appreciated for stories like this. Friendly reminder that reblogs spread more than likes!

All rights are reserved © joonlaksme

[writingpiecesak]

Paying Attention

Summary: You’re sort of a chatter box to anyone that will listen. You ramble about a million different things that sometimes doesn’t even relate to one another. So while trying to tell a story that actually means something, you fall on deaf ears. Not to Bakugou though.

“Then! A huge boulder of cement was flying through the air and I was just about to use my quirk to stop it when–guys?”

As I sat there at my desk looking at my four friends talk amongst themselves I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment. It seemed like my friends didn’t care nor pay mind to what I was saying. I do talk a lot and usually it’s babbling like a baboon when I’m nervous but this near death experience was something I wanted to share. To have a listener or someone try to relate?

Little did I know, amidst the dying words in my throat, a silent listener lurked.

“And then what?”

The class bully, known for his cruel tricks and unkind demeanor, had surreptitiously become an unintended audience for my tale. An unexpected twist, indeed. The realization hit me like a gust of wind, a mix of surprise and nervousness.

“You were listening?”

“Hm. You’re too chatty to ignore, continue.”

While I had always yearned for a captivated audience that hung on my every word, having the class bully as my solitary listener posed a peculiar challenge. But there was something intriguing about this unexpected observer. Maybe beneath his intimidating facade lay a flicker of humanity that craved connection, longing for a story to whisk him away from his own reality. Or perhaps it was simply his primal instinct, reveling in the enjoyment derived from others' discomfort.

Regardless of his motivations, the atmosphere in the classroom suddenly shifted. With every passing moment, the realization that Katsuki Bakugou was listening painted my narrative with a newfound weight. I couldn't ignore his presence as he nonchalantly twiddled with his pen, avoiding eye contact with me. It fueled a surge of adrenaline within me, pushing me to deliver a tale that transcended mere words.

As my story continued, I found myself entwined in a delicate dance of words. Each sentence was carefully crafted, every detail woven with precision to capture their attention. The desperate need to keep my sole listener engaged unlocked a previously untapped reserve of creativity within me. It was as if my words formed a bridge, attempting to connect with a person who usually seemed so disconnected from the world around them.

Time ceased to exist in those moments. As the story unfolded, Katsuki’s stonewall expression softened ever so slightly. A twinkle of curiosity glittered in their eyes, silently urging me to forge ahead. The power dynamics within the classroom momentarily shattered, subverted by the wonder of storytelling.

And in that tiny window of respite, as I held Katsuki’s attention captive, an unspoken connection was established. It was a shared moment, a testament to the transcendental power of narratives. The balance of power may have tilted, if only for a short while, and in that fleeting instance, I could almost see Katsuki’s vulnerability lurking beneath their hardened exterior.

As I concluded my tale, a surprisingly genuine smile crept across his face. In that singular moment, the silent bond formed through storytelling revealed that even the most unexpected listeners, with their hidden depths and guarded hearts, could be swayed by the magic crafted within the words we choose to share.

“And after all that, can you believe it that I made it to class on time!”

“I believe it, mousy. Tell me more.”

“More what? That’s the whole story.” I start taking out my notebook just to doodle to make time pass until next class.

“Tell me another story.” He leaned back in his chair.

“You’ll listen?” I teased.

“I’m always listening.”

[opposingsigns]

Klaus- The Baldurian Bard

When I first started drawing my play through, I was wracking my brain trying to think of something a bit more witty for their quest title- but the tag is just too catchy 😂

I had fun writing them a quick Origin dialogue as if they were a companion to travel with (see below the cut), and wanted to give them their own iconic design. I know the base bard build calls back to Volo’s design as a scholar and a bit as a jester (what a mood, I love that), and I wanted to keep that idea in mind. With all the small glittering embellishments, I wanted them look as though you had caught a performer behind the scenes just before they had finished getting ready. Are they about to entertain you with a clever act or they the ring master directing it from the sides with a knowing smile?

Klaus is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns. I should draw it from the back later, but I wanted the vest to function not only like a men’s corset but also a binder! I think we should be having more fun with fantasy binders.

Origin Selection Monologue:

Hello there Adventurer- care to hear a tale before you write your own?

I’ve spent my life in Baldur’s Gate, and I can say with certainty I’ve seen it all: from the smallest taverns on the outer city banks to the grandest court halls in the Upper City. The gift of song has its perks, and I’m well known to my audience as someone who trills the sweetest of tunes.

Or rather, I used to be.

Everyone loves a good storyteller. A pint or three of ale, and I’ve found many people think themselves one. I provided a listening ear to the songs and secrets of The Gate’s People- but secrets can come at a high cost. Some would pay a fortune to grasp the neck of the person that holds them.

I adopted a new name, a new identity, and flew from Baldur’s Gate to leave my past behind. I planned never to return. What a fool I am to forget the oldest story of them all.

You may call me Klaus, shall we tell the tale of ‘The Grand Journey Home’?

Bonus thoughts:

Me, drawing the background: oh actually I’ll leave the bird out, it’s a nice nod to their lore 🤭 (<<< is the only man who would get the reference and knows the lore)

Also I have a new brush pen for line art and I’m in love with it.

[obamasleftkidney]

Okay so hmm..I'm thinking cause of the title, there was a wife who got murdered. Maybe too literal of an analysis but who knows..anyway, the detective, he somehow can see this wife. The wife helps this detective find her murderer which by a long shot I'm thinking it's her husband. Hence the clue about the husband and the wife's infidelity? Also, I think that the husband actually 'found' his wife dead and called it in, which explains clue 8. Banger line btw!

The wife's murder could've been posed as a suicide so the husband could play victim and all 'oh my god, idk what happened, we loved each other and I think she felt too much guilt.' Quite honestly, maybe the husband was hurting the wife? So that's why she had an affair? Is the husband's name Beau?

Super excited for your book. Haven't seen such an interesting premise in awhile <33!

An amazing guess by @swansfilecabinet This particular guess was very entertaining to read, considering many of the guesses were right however the small facts were jumbled up, causing the whole guess to fall apart. A perfect house collapsing because a few bricks from the base were wrongly placed.

There was a fundamental mistake in the guess, regarding a central character. But points of a wife dying, and her husband finding her (though not entirely true i suppose you'll find out when the novel is released), her husband saying the above mentioned, and the wife harboring guilt are correct, though the characters are very jumbled up in the guess. I'll leave it to you to figure out which characters were related wrongly. Nonetheless a GLITTER PEN worthy guess.

Thank you so much for the appreciation for my lines you guys mean the world to me! Can't wait to hear back about my novel, and feel free to drop any guesses that pops in your mind even if they don't quite make sense i love reading them and who knows they might correct.

While i would love to read more guesses, i fear this is where we end the contest. The next novel is already in the works, so expect soon the next contest and stay followed for season 2 of the novel games!

If this is your first time seeing my post; I'm writing a novel which will be released soon. I refuse to tell you the plot, the characters, the tropes, nor the premise. I only ask for your follow + I write my followers names down in a little pretty notebook. I will drop little clues and quotes and paragraphs. Ominous little hints. And the first follower to guess the plot receives a free signed copy of the novel once it's published. (Merch included according to the guessed plot's accuracy) The contest has closed for this as the last guess though the next novel is in the works and the next contest will happen within the next few months!

Do follow me and find out, for if this ended up on your page, this novel has everything you like. I might disappoint, but how do you know for sure I will?

If you're interested, follow me, and go read my posts. Clues have already been dropped. Best of Luck!

[shackleton2]

thank you for the tag @painted-doe!!! I love these i feel hella imposterish sharing WIPs but the folder is honestly getting bulky soooo

my keywords were ignore, kind, lose, silver

ignore

He let himself get lost in the glittering smear of the Milky Way, not tracking time, before he felt ready to bring some attention to the places he felt his body touching the ground, the jungle sounds around him. He reminded himself of where and when he was, and went over the recent series of events that had brought him there. He was here. He knew the date. All of this was real.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The nightmare was bad enough, but it brought with it a lasting sense of frantic anxiety that he didn’t know how to soothe or surmount or ignore.

“Steve is fine,” he muttered to himself, barely aloud. “Steve is fine.”

He shuffled back into the hut and stared at the beads hanging by the door. They would be silent until the next reminder about traveling off the hillside to meet Shuri for a scan came in a few days.

kind

It was on its side. Thick grey was encroaching rapidly from the borders of its vision. There was only a small window of light left to it, and it found itself wishing, nonsensically, for the Captain’s face to be there, blue eyes radiating certainty in everything, even in defeat. That would be a comfort.

Instead there were bright searing beams of light and crashing impacts hard enough to shake the reinforced floor of the cell. With a massive effort the Soldier blinked and cleared a shade of grey from its eyes.

The Captain and the man in red and gold armor were exchanging violent blows. They flickered across the Soldier’s vision like snapshots. The Captain was strong and fast and desperate. The armored man seemed to anticipate every move, and fired some kind of energy beam from hand and chest.

The Captain had the armored man pinned, the shield at his neck, but the glowing circle in his chest was pulsing, preparing; the Soldier heard through the sealed glass walls: “Give it up, Rogers. I won’t tell you again.”

Something went off in the Asset’s head like a grenade seconds before the flash of the suit’s power outside the cell.

silver

She headed in the direction of the sheep-pen, where the worrying sound had come from a few minutes ago. She had been comfortably settled in an armchair, barely in earshot, but she was sure she’d heard it— faint and strange-sounding, not a cry she’d ever heard before. The animals and her were well-tuned to each other, and her instincts told her: it was the sheep, and they were terrified.

She glanced back as she hurried down the path. Her little cottage stood starkly etched in darkness and faint silver moonlight. The bright butter yellow of the lamplit window was like a lighthouse, a beacon against all that was dark and cold, Outer and Other in the night. With the next bend in the path it was out of her sight.

lose

He wouldn’t mind, honestly. There was a deep ache in his chest when he thought of that little guy with the steely gaze. Whatever was left of James Barnes in him missed Steve Rogers, he supposed. It felt old, the ache, like he had been missing Steve for a long, long time.

“Is Steve your friend?” The question came out quiet and kind. “Because I know how it can be sometimes, but if you can get in touch with him, you probably should. It’s tough out here without friends. You lose ‘em fast.”

“Can’t,” said the Soldier. “I can’t come in, Steve. I gotta…protect you, s’the only good thing I’ve ever been good at. And this is the only way I can.”

“I’m not Steve.” Kindly again, too understanding to be pity.

I think a lot of people have already been tagged but if you're reading this and you wanna do it please do!!! this is such a fun way to peek into each others' notebooks i'm so excited for yalls work :D

keywords are cloth, leap, strain, knife