#cat: snowflake contrary

[lurking-lilibeth]

Seasons change, and it gets colder even in Strangetown. Day 28 for the Contrarys.

[nhasablogg]

How to move an immovable object

Fandom: The Raven Cycle

Characters: Adam, Gansey, Ronan

Summary: Adam worries he's not ticklish enough to be fun to tickle. Gansey and Ronan notice, like they always do.

A/N: Hey @happyandticklish guess what!! @tickles-tea commissioned this fic for you as a Christmas gift!! I took the liberty of using the prompt you sent me as a continuation of your own commission for this, and I really hope you like it!! Thank you @tickles-tea for the commission!

Read part one here.

Words: 2.1k

Adam kind of wished this conversation didn’t have to take place while he was somewhat trapped between them, Ronan’s elbow somewhere in his ribs while Gansey nearly wacked him in the face as he was talking. He sounded animated, although Adam had seen the signs of concern and should’ve known he would bring it up eventually. Had thought he could play it cool and they would let it go. How wrong he’d been.

Gansey’s animation was emphasized by Ronan’s silence, which made Adam more nervous than he could explain. He could feel his gaze on him and refused to meet it, opting instead to stare in front of him, watching the snowflakes fall outside the window as if this was any normal conversation. Gansey stopped talking when he noticed him drifting, not knowing just how much Adam was hanging onto every word he said despite pretending to be doing otherwise.

“Do you understand what I mean?” he asked, sounding uncertain in a way that was unlike him.

Adam looked at him. It was easier than looking at Ronan. “Sure.”

“Am I right, then? That you’re avoiding it on purpose?”

Adam looked away again, face burning. “Uhm. Maybe.”

Gansey seemed to wait a beat for him to elaborate, before saying, “Well, I guess the next question is, why? If you wanted to join in the first place?”

In order to understand, Adam was forced to remember. Adam was very good at remembering. Gansey and Ronan tangled up in situations that made him jealous, which wasn’t something he was used to. He was used to the bitterness of not having what other people had. Of never being able to reach out his fingertips to touch what other people had been cradling ungratefully their whole life. But this had been different. This had been silly and playful and embarrassing to admit that he’d wanted, for the first time not out of his reach at all, but on the contrary, just about to land in his own lap.

But Adam Parrish wasn’t good at asking for what he wanted. Adam Parrish wasn’t good at accepting the things he wanted without having to fight for them.

The whole tickling thing had been given to him after he’d spent weeks running away from it, and once it had been his - squeezes to his knees and pokes to his ribs, with the occasional proper tickle fights which left him giggling beneath his friends - he now didn’t know what to do with it. And so he did what he usually did: he started overthinking it.

It had started because he’d been watching Ronan tickle Gansey again, this time aware he would probably be roped into it and not fleeing until it would be part of the game; a game of cat and mouse which would end with him beneath merciless fingers. But Gansey had been screaming with laughter as Ronan discovered a spot on his lower stomach which they baptized as his Worst Spot, and Adam had never heard himself laugh like that. Had never seen Ronan beam down at him in the way he was grinning at Gansey. “This is the best day of my life,” he’d said, and Adam had never heard those words aimed at him. Had he been jealous? Not necessarily. Maybe a little. Maybe he was suddenly wondering if he was even fun to tickle, with his silent giggling and the way he curled up. No grandness once they got past his initial walls of trying to avoid it. Only stillness. He wasn’t even really that ticklish on most spots. It had been strangely devastating to realize.

He was looking at Gansey now, remembering another week of avoiding them again, this time for different reasons that were still somehow related. He wondered briefly why he couldn’t be normal about this. Why this had to turn into a thing each time it was approached.

“It’s really fucking stupid,” he said, choking up in a way he couldn’t stand. “Like, really stupid. Like you should probably just drop it, stupid.”

“Adam.” Gansey’s hand was on his arm, which was resting on Adam’s stomach, and so his fingertips were brushing over skin which should be ticklish but was merely sensitive. He didn’t even worry that Gansey would accidentally tickle him. “How many times do we have to say this? You can talk to us. We won’t judge. I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Suddenly Adam couldn’t stand the way he was looking at him, and so he turned his head to the other side, coming face to face with Ronan. Ronan, who showed emotions through his eyes more than anything, and yet Adam couldn’t read him now. The embarrassment was different when facing Ronan. He felt like he could see into his very soul. Adam didn’t even want to begin to think of what he would find in there.

“Parrish.” His voice was low, as if he’d spoken before deciding to do so. On his other side, Adam could feel Gansey shifting, trying to twist his body so that he could look at them.

Adam exhaled. “Yes?”

“What is it that’s bothering you?”

“I feel-” Inadequate. “-not ticklish enough?”

Neither of them laughed. Neither of them questioned him. Ronan simply tilted his head, curiosity flickering across his face as he said, “Elaborate.”

And so Adam did.

“I’m worried I’m not ticklish enough and that I’m not fun to tickle because of that.” They’d long established that his initial reactions to being touched didn’t fully have to do with his sensitivity, but they’d not spoken more about it. Adam hadn’t wanted to. Now each question of “is this okay?” had more to do with touching him than with if it was tickling him. They’d taken it as a challenge when realizing not every touch was ticklish. Adam should’ve known they liked a challenge, and maybe that would’ve been enough had he not started lamenting over the fact that they rarely succeeded like he wished they would.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” he said when he was done, recounting the times Ronan had come out of a tickle fight panting for breath, or Gansey having fled into another room because he’d not been able to take it any longer. Adam had never done that. Adam was an immovable object.

“It’s not stupid,” Gansey said gently. “I just wish you’d come to us sooner. Have you been overthinking each tickle fight?”

“Not until somewhat recently.” That was partly a lie. Adam had been overthinking most tickle fights for entirely different reasons, but they didn’t need to know what. Not yet.

“It’s okay to not be super ticklish, you know,” Gansey continued. “We can still make you giggle. You still have fun during them, right?”

Adam was blushing now, unsure of what to do with himself. “Uhm. Sure.”

Ronan let out a laugh. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

“No, no, I do have fun, I just-” He shrugged, laughing too, feeling ridiculous. “Are you supposed to admit to that?”

“Why do things if you’re not enjoying them.” Gansey’s grin suddenly dropped. “Maybe it’s on us to make you enjoy them more, though. Change techniques. Maybe we just haven’t found your spots yet.”

“Maybe.”

Ronan hummed. “Only one way to find out.”

Perhaps he’d always known a conversation like this would end in an experiment, because what else could they do? Only he’d not expected to feel nervous about it, watching Ronan reach out while holding his breath. He kept his arms pressed to his sides, suddenly feeling exposed between them on the bed, but wasn’t that the point? To feel vulnerable and ticklish and helpless while trapped between them? Adam didn’t feel ticklish, although he didn’t necessarily feel not ticklish either. A strange middle ground. Wasn’t that just his life?

Ronan reached out and Adam held his breath and Gansey was probably watching intently on his other side, only Adam couldn’t stop watching Ronan’s approaching hand and so he couldn’t tell for certain. Anyone else would probably start curling up, or move their hands without meaning to in order to block the attack, giggling before being touched, but Adam simply remained still, watching.

“I know your ribs are ticklish,” Ronan said, stopping just above them. He said it matter-of-factly, although he could sense a teasing tone among each word, reminding Adam that this was supposed to be fun. “Tell me just how ticklish on a scale of one to ten.”

“Uhm. Maybe a six?”

“I’m sure I can turn it into a ten.”

With those words Ronan made contact, and while it did tickle - a twitch of the body, his breath coming out in a surprised laugh - Adam could remain as he was for ten seconds before he felt the need to push Ronan off, only of course Ronan didn’t let that deter him. That was partly the way their tickle fights went. Adam slowly fell into somewhat of a panic because he couldn’t stop it, not necessarily because it tickled too much. If that even made sense.

“See, if I do this,” Ronan sang, digging his fingers into his upper ribs. “I’m sure you’ll beg for mercy in no time.”

Adam snorted through his laughter, grabbing onto Ronan’s wrist without really thinking of it. “I don’t think I will.”

“Maybe you need to be gentler,” Gansey said, demonstrating his words by wiggling his fingers in the air and making Adam feel all the more flustered. “Maybe he’s the type to break under soft tickles.”

The casual way they spoke of this made Adam blush, much to their delight. Ronan did as Gansey said and trailed his fingertips lightly over his ribs, though Adam couldn’t feel it as much and so he slipped his hand beneath his shirt to try again, after Adam gave his consent.

Adam felt, for the first time since their tickle fights started, as if he needed to escape the tickling right that second, which translated into his arms flailing, his words becoming incoherent through his panicked laughter - laughter! - in a way that much resembled the sounds Gansey and Ronan would make.

“W-wait!”

“There we go.” Gansey seemed much too triumphant for someone who wasn’t doing the tickling himself, but he would eat that thought up soon as he decided to join in, spidering his nails lightly over Adam’s kneecap which seemed much more effective than simply squeezing at it.

Adam realized, in the midst of it all, that he wasn’t used to gentle touches and so hadn’t known how much they would tickle him. Maybe they realized it, too, but no one said anything about it. It didn’t seem necessary. Besides, they were a little busy now, turning Adam into a giggly mess. Gansey was zeroing in on a spot which had never elicited much of a reaction before, but he seemed determined now, curling his fingers over Adam’s neck over and over, the spot just beneath his ear which always made other people recoil. He wasn’t entirely sure at which point the sensation became ticklish, only that suddenly he felt he couldn’t stand it. Was suddenly giggling because of it.

“Stop!” he cried, raising his shoulder and finding it didn’t help. One hand occupied by Ronan’s hand which was holding onto it, the other desperately trying to shove Ronan’s other hand away from his bare ribs. Leaving his neck to fend for itself and his shoulder not doing much despite trying so desperately. Adam, never having had a weakness for neck tickles, was suddenly lost in a sea of giggles, feeling his whole body recoil at the gentleness, at the sensation which he couldn’t stand, and he suddenly understood them, his two ticklish friends. Understood why they fled and always came back.

“No offense, Parrish, but you seem really ticklish for someone who thinks they’re not.” Ronan was grinning at him, evading Adam’s panicked hand easily.

“This is fun, right?” Gansey had moved his other hand to the other side of Adam’s neck, leaving him trapped, all of them tangled limbs, all of them laughing.

To say he was flustered by it all - the tickling, the realizations, the patience and delight and gentleness Gansey and Ronan displayed toward him - would be an understatement. Adam was suddenly certain he would die here and be okay with it. The bed creaked as he struggled, although he’d not yet tried to get up. Maybe he would get there eventually. Or maybe not. He was okay either way. He trusted them either way.

“Are your armpits ticklish?” Ronan asked, finally - finally - letting his ribs be and trying to worm his hands under his arms instead.

“No!”

“No? I’m sure I can prove otherwise.”

Adam didn’t doubt it.

[manianart]

Rina and her kitty-cat Hemlock (Chichis bff and roommate)

Some info about Rina: She is a  Snowflake-Spirit

Contrary to their name Snowflake-Spirits aren't spirits at all They are the result of a union between a human and a greater Winter-Spirit They are pretty much human, just always really cold

This cold usually doesn't affect them though in some instances there will be adverse effects on their body due to the cold as well They have minor powers such as freezing small amounts of water or producing small amounts of snow due to freezing water in the air

Snowflake-Spirits are often plagued by depression due to their natures clashing Not all of them will know how to deal with said depression though most are lucky enough to have good parents as Winter-Spirits only seek out partners that are trustworthy Most Snowflake-Spirits love sugar and cannot stand spicy food tho there's always exceptions to that rule You will find them to be calm but very nice to talk to and they make for great friends

Rina herself is very quiet and doesn't talk a lot but she loves to sing for people she feels comfortable with She had some mental problems in the past but with the help of her familie, Chichi and Hemlock she is doing a lot better now

She's one of the rare cases of Snowflake-Spirit that actually likes spicy food and eats it regularly She once hurt someone on accident (giving them freezer burn on the arm and causing a pretty bad scar) and while she was forgiven she still feels guilty about that

Her favorite color is green (like Chichis eyes) She sometimes makes snowcones when she's bored and gives them away to the neighbors kids (they live in the appartment next to hers n Chichis)

[darlakane]

30 Days Writing Challenge - Day 3 (Shawn/Hunter)

3. Use the words: kitchen, date, music

Hunter wasn’t sure how, but he had managed to coax Shawn into spending the weeks leading up to Christmas in Nashua. This was bordering on a miracle as, being the true Texan boy that he was, Shawn dreaded the cold. Or, well, loathed it was probably more like it. But they had a loop of shows in New England, followed by another bunch in the New York and New Jersey area so it wasn’t like it didn’t make sense.

That, however, did not stop Shawn from moaning about it at every chance he got.

He had put on the thickest sweater he could find in Hunter’s closet before he had dared as much as even contemplate making his way down the stairs. It was 9 am, and while Hunter had already sneaked out of bed an hour ago, Shawn had opted to stay hidden under the covers. And that was where he would have stayed if it wasn’t for a growling stomach.

The smell of coffee was in the air, and for once Hunter had forgone their usually healthy diet in favor of pancakes with chocolate syrup in addition to the scrambled egg whites, fresh fruits and yogurt. If Shawn was willingly putting up with the New Hampshire winter, the least Hunter could do was spoil him a little as he knew the man had a sweet tooth.

Looking up from setting the table, he spotted Shawn leaning against the door to the kitchen.

“Morning, babe. Sleep well?”

Shawn put on the most miserable expression he could muster while rubbing his arms.

“I’m freezing to death here.”

Hunter chuckled, “You’re such a drama queen. It’s not like the heating isn’t working.”

“It’s still too fuckin’ cold.”

Taking pity on him, Hunter put the last plate down and walked over to Shawn, wrapping his arms around him. “Better?”

“For now.” Shawn looked up at Hunter and kissed him. “Good morning to you, too, by the way.”

Hunter smiled and took Shawn’s hand. “C’mon, breakfast is ready.”

They both sat down to eat with the radio playing quietly in the background. The station had already reverted to only playing Christmas music and Shawn was quietly humming along to “Let It Snow”.

Hunter watched him for a moment, biting his lip to keep himself from stating the obvious.

Shawn did notice him staring, though. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

A raspberry was thrown in his direction, but Hunter caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Tell me already. You can’t keep shit to yourself for long anyway.”

“But it’s fun to irritate you.” Off the glare he got in response, Hunter gave in. “Alright, alright.” Hands up in surrender, he asked, “You really don’t see the irony?”

Shawn raised an eyebrow, clearly clueless.

“You, humming along to a song about snow while you just got done complaining about the cold.”

“You’re such a smart-ass, Hunter.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Hunter leaned across the table, closer to Shawn. “And yet you love me.”

“Only the good Lord knows why.”

Before they could continue their banter, their attention was drawn back to the radio.

“…More heavy snow is to be expected in the afternoon with temperatures below 20°. The National Weather Service has issued an official warning for the Boston area. It is strongly advised to stay home if you can as roads are expected to be extremely icy and slippery...”

Shawn groaned. “There go our dinner plans for tonight.”

They had made reservations at their favorite high-end restaurant in Boston, for no other reason than to enjoy each other’s company. And they had actually hoped to maybe even make it into town early to get some Christmas shopping for their families and friends done before they had to go back to work on the weekend.

Hunter looked towards the window. The small snowflakes from earlier this morning had indeed turned into a heavy snowfall with no end in sight. The whole yard was already covered in white. While, contrary to Shawn, he did love this kind of weather, it did definitely mess up their plans.

Shawn’s gaze had followed Hunter’s and the disappointment definitely showed on his face.

“Told ya, I hate winter,” he scowled. “We should’ve gone to Texas. At least we can’t get snowed in there.”

Hunter, ever the optimist, was determined to make the best out of the situation. He slid his chair next to Shawn’s and intertwined their fingers. “Don’t be like that.”

When Shawn’s demeanor didn’t change, Hunter moved one hand to Shawn’s face, gently stroking his cheek. His expression finally softened when their eyes met. “We’ll just make it a date night at home.”

Shawn seemed skeptical and huffed, “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. Sure, it won’t be as fancy as at the restaurant, but let’s just cook something nice together, put up some candles and have a quiet night in. As long as it’s the two of us, we got everything we need, don’t we?”

There was the hint of a genuine smile now after all. “I love you, you know?”

“Told you, didn’t I?”

Gently, Shawn squeezed Hunter’s hand. “Sorry for bein’ such a pain earlier.”

Hunter pressed a kiss to the tip of Shawn’s nose. “You’re my pain so I guess that’s alright.”

“And that, darlin’, was awfully sappy.”

Hunter laughed. “Maybe.”

Link to the list of prompts 

Previous prompts

Prompt # 1 - First kiss Prompt # 2 - No dialogue

[charred-cheese]

Random story I wrote today

As he raced through the snowy woods, he caught a glimpse of a small puddle of red, sticking out like a sore thumb against the soft, pure white forest floor. He stopped. Time stopped. Hesitantly, he made his way over to the splotch of colour and the clearly disturbed snow. The surroundings were silent, save for the crunching of his boots against the ice. He had never believed in God, but in this moment, he prayed, hoped, wished that it was just a trick of the light.

However, contrary to his prayers, his eyes were not mistaken. There, almost buried in the snow, were a few droplets of a thick blood red liquid, glistening innocently in the light despite its wretched implications. The blood didn’t stop there however, a thin trail of those horrid little maroon patches led him to an almost idyllic clearing. In spite of the picturesque snowy glade, a sinking feeling made its way into his chest as he laid his eyes upon his worst nightmare.

The small specks of blood grew larger as they slowly seeped into a pool, and at the centre of the burgundy puddle laid a pale, painfully familiar figure. He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. The scene before him remained unchanging. Perhaps this was all a prank, a cruel joke? Perhaps one of those unforgiving jesters had decided to play a sadistic trick on him? Try as he might, he could not think of who could have done such a heinous act. Not to someone as caring as her.

It took only a miniscule, single snowflake landing on his nose, to shock him out of his pathetic state. He dashed forward, kneeling by her body, already covered in a thin layer of snow. He carefully cupped her pale face in his gloved palm, willing her with nothing but his mind to wake up and look at him with that ever so gentle smile. Her face looked peaceful, and so ethereal, as if she had simply gone to sleep, unknowing that she may never awaken again.

He felt the melted snow soaking his pants, the warmth from the fresh blood did little to warm the chill he felt looking down at her lifeless body. He looked around, searching for the offending weapon that had caused such a grievance. Finally, he spotted it, a simple arrow, seemingly shot into her abdomen, pulled out and placed on the ground delicately, as if it had not caused a grave crime that was unpunishable even through death.

Despite his best efforts, he could not stop the few stray tears from trickling down his face, turning into tragically beautiful crystals of ice. Crystals of ice? It couldn’t be, if that were so, he would have felt the cold seeping into his bones by now. He had been trekking through the frozen forest for hours now, never once feeling the frigid temperature slow down his movements. He glanced at the wound on her body again, a small glimmer of hope making its way into his thoughts.

The world had truly taken pity on him this time it appeared, a thin layer of ice had formed over the wound, suspending the blood flow in a way that could not be healthy in the long run, but would keep her from losing more blood temporarily. It hadn’t been that long since he had found her, and the blood was too warm for it to have been a prolonged period of time. Optimism filled his heart as he picked up her limp wrist, ignoring how the lack of reaction felt so unnatural, waiting, waiting for any sign of life.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Faint. Faint but it was still there. Like a scalded cat, he swiftly and gingerly scooped her up in his arms, making sure that her head was positioned in a way that would cause her no discomfort. His heart raced, he needed to act quickly, there was no time to waste. With a tender kiss to her forehead, he made a promise.

“I will keep you safe, I swear on my life.”

[artsyhobi]

Cursed

Divine Gods!BTS x reader

series masterlist

Chapter one, Calico Cat.

characters: mortal!fem!reader, god of the moon!park jimin, god of the sun!jung hoseok, god of death and darkness!min yoongi, god of the four elements!kim namjoon, god of time!kim seokjin, god of nature and life!jeon jungkook, god of mischief!kim taehyung.

a/n: hello ! i hope you enjoy this first chapter, i actually took inspo from Goblin (which is a kdrama i absolutely loved ;;) and i'm sorry in advance for my poor writing, but english is not my first language ...

trigger warning: mentions of blood, violence and death, curse words.

tag-list: @greezenini, @fangirl125reader, @motherofbludgers

Min Yoongi sat on the throne, his legs elegantly crossed as he rested his forearms on the armrest. He slightly raised his left arm so that the tip of his index finger could lightly brush against his lower lip, his eyebrows mildly furrowed in a focused expression.

The black-haired man continued playing with his lip, then reached for something in the pocket of his silk pants and held the object in the palm of his hand: it was a vintage pocket watch entirely made out of gold, with a ruby located right at its center. The hands of the watch moved mechanically, producing a “tic” sound that resonated in his mind like an irritating echo.

Yoongi hated time. What was ironic, though, is that he had too much of it: he had an Eternity.

Yoongi glared at the antique object once more. A satisfied smirk appeared on the corner of his lips, depicting anything but an innocent smile. He stood up, adjusting his coat and grabbing his black bowler hat in a swift movement before taking some steps forward: as he walked, the dark throne room surrounding him became gradually more distant and, in a matter of seconds, the man was walking in the busy and snowy streets of Seoul. The snow crunched under the soles of his shoes, the snowflakes that landed on his coat immediately melted, and as he passed by, nobody seemed to notice his presence.

The street was crowded with people rushing to purchase the last Christmas presents, couples holding hands, and kids eating strawberry cotton candy. Disgusting, thought Yoongi as he curled his nose.

“One minute and thirty-three seconds.” He murmured to himself, turning into a deserted alley after checking the correct street name on a brick wall nearby. As he walked, the bright white snow became dirtier until there were just a few clusters of it on the side of the path. It started snowing heavier.

“Fifty-eight seconds.”

“I told you there were consequences!” A hoarse male voice shouted in the distance. Yoongi stopped hands into the pockets of his coat. “You’re a worthless bitch!”

There was a loud bang, followed by two others, and a feeble female voice asking for help. No one could hear her, and even if her cries reached someone’s ears, no one would help her since - according to Min Yoongi - humans were nothing but greedy mortal souls that enjoyed the sufferings of others. They were too occupied with spending their money on materialistic goods and developing toxic, violent, and possessive relationships. They were human beings but had no humanity left in their hearts.

He approached the poor woman laying on the ground, her hand resting on her stomach: blood was gushing out of her bullet wounds, dripping down in a pool of crimson absorbed by the snow. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered the same words over and over again, “Help me”.

He crouched down beside her and tilted his head, observing her like a detective inspected a victim. He knew that her time was up and that she was destined to die there, alone, desperately waiting for someone to find her.

“S-Sir…” She mumbled, some blood running down from the corner of her mouth. “P-please help me…” Her hand desperately clutched the hem of his coat, smearing it with her blood.

Yoongi sharply exhaled and rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side.

“Fancy seeing you follow me everywhere I go, Jungkook.” He stated, reluctantly standing up to face a man leaning against the brick wall, his arms crossed.

“Did you miss me?” Jungkook grinned.

He seemed almost like an angel since the clothes he wore were entirely white. His blond hair brushed against his shoulders, and a pair of long crystal earrings hung from his ears, sparkling as soon as they moved. Yoongi, on the contrary, was his polar opposite: his short wavy locks were as black as pitch, and although his eyes were a dull brown, they almost felt like looking into two holes, black as a night without stars.

“Seokjin sent me here to stop you from reaping her soul,” he affirmed, playing with the many rings he wore on his fingers, “It’s not her time yet.”

Yoongi scoffed, slightly amused at his statement. “Don’t you see the three holes on her stomach… Or do you need a magnifying glass? I am the one who decides if she dies today, not that Doctor Strange wannabe.” He took some steps toward him until his face was a few inches away from his, “I don’t take orders from a teenager.”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, the slight grin disappeared. “These are not my orders but his, and you know you must obey him.” He lightly shoved Yoongi’s shoulder without interrupting eye contact with him, trying to remain calm. He kneeled beside the woman and caressed her hair, a sad smile depicted on his pink lips, while Yoongi stared angrily at the two.

“Don’t even think about it, Jungkook, her soul is already mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

“It is, you’re right.” The blond whispered and delicately put his hand on the woman’s chest. “But not now, Yoongi, you will have to wait.”

“Wait!?” Yoongi exclaimed in disbelief, and then frantically ran a hand through his black locks, “This has to be a joke, is Taehyung with you?”

“He is not,” He responded as a gleam of light formed under the palm of his hand, turning brighter by the second, “I haven’t seen him in ages.” This time his tone was lower, and his expression had darkened. Yoongi nodded, having no interest in knowing what had happened between the two friends.

“I suppose you won’t tell me why Seokjin wants to spare her life.”

“He just told me to stop you, nothing more.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Lies,” he snarled, “you are his little obedient puppy, Jungkook, we all know it.”

Jungkook inhaled the sharp, cold air and smiled as the woman opened her dark eyes. “I’m not here to fight, Yoongi, so you can insult me how much you want.” The blond took the now conscious woman into his arms and glared directly at his former friend. “But nothing will change the fact that you’re on your own now.”

Yoongi turned around, ready to argue back, but there was no trace of Jungkook.

The black-haired man remained still as he watched the empty spot, sighing, a strange feeling at the pit of his stomach.

20 years later

“Chung-Ae, we’ve already talked about this!” You groaned in annoyance, sinking your face into your Pikachu plushie. “I’m happy here!”

Chung-Ae sat on the counter, her arms supporting her as she gave you a stern look. You peeked, escaping the protection of your plushie, noticing that she wore purple lenses - although her stare was as scary as it had always been -.

“You’re a twenty-two-year-old living in an old house, with your three cats, and working in a cat-café.” She emphasized the “and” as if working in such a wonderful place was something to be ashamed of.

“That’s the best life!” You exclaimed as you sat comfortably on your sofa. “I mean, why would I need to move to Seul with a bunch of horny people when I could just spend the rest of my life in peace?”

Chung-Ae sighed loudly.

“They’re not just a bunch of horny people. They are my friends.”

You parted your lips to respond, wanting to remind her about the last party you both had attended, but she cut you off.

“Y/N, you live alone in such an abandoned area, it’s dangerous; it even takes you more than an hour to reach the café.” She slid down from the counter and sat next to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, I know that you’re attached to this place, but it doesn’t work for you anymore.”

She was right, you loved that place. Your grandparent’s house was located in the countryside, in a small rural village that was scarcely populated. The few young people remaining had started moving to bigger cities such as Seul or Busan, but not you. You adored waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the morning and the gurgling of the river. You got used to being alone, and you didn’t mind it. You couldn’t understand why Chung-Ae tried to force you to move with her, but she was rather determined, and you knew she was going to insist.

“Chung-Ae,” you reached for her hand and squeezed it delicately, a small smile forming on your lips. “You know I can’t leave, I promised my mother I would take care of this house.”

“You have to stop living in the past, Y/N.” She firmly stated. “This house is falling apart, and so is your life. Moving to Seul with me is your best option.”

Her eyes stared into yours for a few seconds, and you felt unreasonably guilty. You knew how much she cared about you, and you were constantly giving her “no” as answers. She retracted her hand, reaching for her purse right beside her, before standing up. “You still have time to think about it. You know that, right?” Her hand was on the doorknob.

Your mind wanted to decline her offer, but your heart told you otherwise, so you just nodded.

“Take care, Y/N.” And with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving you alone once again.

You finally took a deep breath running your palms down your face in an exasperated manner. Chung-Ae was your childhood friend, and she had always been by your side. You had met her in elementary school: she was popular amongst your class since her father was a renowned lawyer who worked for big celebrities, but you - on the other hand - weren’t as popular. You weren’t a social butterfly and preferred spending your time playing with the stray cats in your neighborhood.

You stood up and walked toward the kitchen, deciding to make yourself a homemade chicken noodle soup. You put the ingredients on the counter and started to chop the carrots into strings. As you were about to grab something, you heard a strange noise coming from outside: you reminisced Chung-Ae’s words and felt a shiver run through your spine, but you shook your head, mentally reassuring yourself that it must have been a wild animal.

You grabbed the celery from the fridge, deciding that you would drink some strawberry milk while waiting for the soup to cook. However, when you closed it, you were taken aback by a calico cat sitting on the floor, right in front of you. Your eyes were wide open in surprise since your three cats were all black, and you crouched down. “Hello, little one,” you gently smiled as you observed the little creature staring at you with a pair of light blue eyes, “I wonder how you got in…”

You inspected the room looking for any open windows but soon discovered you had closed everything. When you turned your gaze back to the cat, it was gone. Puzzled, you stood back up, massaging your temples. Am I hallucinating? You asked yourself before resuming your dish.

After literally devouring your delicious meal and doing the dishes, you headed to your room, where you found the windows wide open. You didn’t remember leaving them like that, but you also didn’t mind the fresh breeze coming from outside. It was a quiet night of July, and the moon was shining vividly in the sky, its brightness being the only source of light in the room. As you approached your bed, you couldn’t help but notice the shape of a cat on the window ledge, but when you came near, it had mysteriously vanished.

"Okay, Y/N, you're probably tired." You told yourself while sitting on the bed. As you laid down, feeling the freshness of your newly washed sheets, you heard another sound and then a chorus of meows coming from the living room. You sighed, reluctantly standing up, wearing a hoodie before walking down the stairs.

"What is it, guys, did you hurt yourselves?" You asked as your three black cats, Luna, Mars, and Pluto, continued meowing toward the front door. You groaned, "Alright, I will check."

You weren't ready for what you were about to see: you expected nothing but pitch darkness or that calico cat that was apparently haunting you now. But as you opened the wooden door, you froze on the spot at the sight of a man leaning his arm on the doorframe.

Because of the darkness, you could only see his silver hair reflecting the moonlight and a pair of light blue eyes staring at you in curiosity.

"Hello, little one."

[frosted-night]

Do you have any headcanons for cast as humans? I mean as a human au. (If this is too big of an ask thats fine)

BOY DO I

Let me just get my tome out n read y'all the lore I've made for no reason.

Jack

Left home after graduating to join a caravan and traveled across the country. He came back home after his parent's sudden deaths. He didn't want to leave his brother to deal with the estate by himself.

He still has his van from his adventures and he wants to paint it again to symbolize his new phase in life. It still has living accomdations inside it and Jack has little desire to change it.

He has a few tattoos, such as a hurricane symbol on his neck and a snowflake above one of his ankles. Jack also has a few ear piercings he did himself and he's surprisingly good at it.

If Jack isn't driving he travels by longboard. He had a skater boy phase but it payed off since he can still do a few tricks here and there.

(Sometimes I see human Jack either as cis or trans. It depends on how im feeling. A trans Human Jack post will be seperate from this one)

He's a skilled forager and grower since he had to do that as his years as a nomad. Jack wouldn't claim he's as skilled as Aster but he can be a runner up behind him.

Jack never had a solid relationship on the road. It was very fleeting feelings but he didn't seem to mind. Settling back down at his hometown had reawakened some buried feelings though.

He's fairly well known in his hometown for being a mischievous bastard in his teen years and his past with playing on the local hockey team.

Jack would describe his aesthetic as a love child of punk and free spirited hippie lifestyle.

He has unmedicated adhd

He's 6 or 7 years older than his younger brother Manny and it can make their relationship a bit strained. These days they are trying to mend it while taking care of their parent's old home.

His hair was originally brown but he bleaches it and dyes it white these days.

Manny (Mim)

He's one of the youngest in his friend group, beating Tooth by a few months.

Manny is the 2nd shortest, Sandy being the shortest.

Jack leaving home wasn't easy for him and after a while Manny fell out of contact. He regrets it to this very day but never stopped thinking about his big brother.

He has Thalassophobia, a fear shared with Jack, and Pitch teases him endlessly about it.

He's a natural blonde and his mom used to tell him that he got it from his dad's side of the family. Manny has yet to meet any of his extended family for some reason.

Cleaning out his parents house of their things was one of the hardest parts for him and would have been impossible if his friends didn't help him. (Jack coming home really changed the game too.)

He was a fairly average kid but had a streak of being kind of mean in school. It lasted until high school but he still carries that silver tongue between his teeth.

Tooth jokes about how often Manny visits the local aquarium and he deflects any guesses she makes. North knows Manny is crushing hard on a employee there and has a code word for the guy, "Ocean Man". Aster hums the song whenever he feels like he can poke fun of Manny.

His occupation is working at a pre-school/daycare. He's shockingly amazing with children and has considered a teaching position there but he has yet to decide on it.

Manny has been called a "night owl" by all his friends since his productivity increases when the sun goes down. Thats usually the time he gets to work on all the cleaning he's missed.

He currently lives in his childhood home with his brother. Thankfully their home was paid off by their parents so they just split the bills, but they have considered getting a roomie to help with the expenses.

His dream is to have any kind of a pool in his backyard but he has to wait til the finances balance themselves out.

Pitch

Was the newest person in the group before Jack joined. He's also one of the oldest.

His occupation is a horror novel writer and lives off of coffee even when hes not crunching to meet deadlines.

Pitch fights with insomnia but Sandy convinced him to start taking medication to help him sleep. He got kind of sick hearing Pitch make quick meals at 3am and tripping over his cat.

He has a cat named Onyx and he has that backpack with a window on it that he can put Onyx in. Onyx likes it very much and if she knows hes leaving somewhere she sits by the backpack and stares at him.

Halloween is when he's at his strongest. If he feels like it, he competes with North on who has the best decorations. Jack gave Pitch the idea of using dry ice and its a feature he brings back every other year or so.

He's one of the tallest people in the group, only coming a few inches shorter than North. Contrary to people asking him, he was never into basket ball and was was in the military for a period of time.

Pitch was living a hermit life until he was adopted into the group. With his wife long deceased and freshly dumped, he softly considers it a saving grace that everyone accepted him.

Katherine

An aspiring writer, she currently works at the neighborhood library. She finds it really relaxing since its sat right by a river bed.

She tries not to bug Pitch too much but on occassion she asks him to beta read her works. His criticism and tips energize her to get her works out there ten fold. Kat really wants to write fantasy, a little romance and a lot of kid's books.

Her favorite task at work is reading to kids. Shes an animated storyteller and the kids eat her antics up.

She was great friends with Jack when they were growing up but she followed his antics on a few of his accounts online.

She listens to a lot of rock music and punk pop due to North's influence when she was growing up. He's taken to her to her first concert and she treasures the merch and memories.

She gets around by bike because she hasn't gotten her lisence yet but North gives her lessons on the weekends. Kat's become a local cryptid because everyone has seen her whiz past on her bike at least once though.

A child(Jamie) she read to got her into cryptids and now she eats up any lore she can. They like to infodump on each other when they have the time.

This is post is long enough golly gosh. If y'all are interested i can post the others but for now take these samples. (The Hockey player Jack hc n ex military Pitch hc were influenced by a lovely fic written by my friends over at @bunnimew. Their fic is Surviving On Twinkies And Hope and i highly reccomend it)

[sparklingchan]

Taste of Spring || Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Han.

Word count : 2.4k+

Warnings : Cuss words, slight mentions of heartbreak, not proof read. .

Genre : Fluff, slight angst , best friends to lovers AU.

Description : For Jisung, the world is either black or white - friendship or love. You happen to find yourself stuck in the grey.

A/N: Haven’t written an skz drabble in a while so yeah, here it is(whatever this is lol) and I’ve had this in my drafts for a whole month now. Damn. Sorry, Jisung.

I hope y’all like it <3

Enjoy!

You had not seen your best friend in what felt like ages when in reality it had only been two weeks or so. But you often find yourself missing him at odd hours ,at the most random moments these days.

"I'll be back before dinner. Take care of my cat. Please." You call out to your sister who sits on the couch , sipping some cucumber induced water that apparently burns calories, and watching a very brutal, violent TV show that you wouldn't even want to ask her about.

"Say hi to Jisung for me." she replies with a quirk of an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly grin. You roll your eyes but the heat has already tinted your cheeks and ears red by the time you exit your house and are walking down the street towards Han Jisung's abode.

As you continue on the road, you feel the taste of an incoming Spring in the air, sweet and full of love. You didn't know why or how or even if it were at all possible in the first place, but you could feel spring knocking on the door ,waiting to be welcomed in.

An old couple walks past you, hand in hand and eyes focused on each other and you inevitably catch yourself thinking about Jisung for some reason. You've both made a lot of fond memories during your spring breaks - you were both inseparable back then.

Even now you are inseparable but things are different.

He was your best friend and nothing more ,yet you find yourself questioning your true feelings towards the boy these days more often than not ,all whilst wondering when you had crossed over the line of wanting to be friends to something more.

"Oh,y/n! Come on in ,honey." Jisung's mother has been nothing but sweet to you throughout all 18 years of your life and you honestly blamed her for making you want to visit their place more often.

But then again, maybe it's not really the mother's hospitality that pulled you in, maybe it is her son's tooth decaying sweetness that brings out the deepest desires from your heart.

You walk into their house , a sense of familiarity washes over you just how it does whenever you walk into your own house too.

"He's in his room ,as usual. Go on. I'll send some snacks in for you." She adds, patting you softly on the shoulder.

Jisung's room is almost always a mess and sometimes one might even find the boy leaving a trail of garbage everywhere he goes, so you aren't surprised when you find a few crumpled piece of paper lying just outside his door. Clumsy little Han.

"Ji-" your words are cut short when you hear his voice from inside , as loud as ever, probably speaking to one of his friends who he also lovingly refers to as his babies(he sometimes calls you baby too ; on purpose or by accident, who knows?) But he seems very into the conversation right now - almost serious which you find rather unlikely for Han Jisung who has very proudly nicknamed himself as Comedian Han since eight grade.

It's the semester break and spring is around the corner - two things Jisung loves the most in the world so there should be no apparent reason for him to be having this deep of a conversation, especially early in the morning. However as his voice grows louder and more frustrated , you cannot help but wonder if there is actually something seriously troubling him.

Curious , you peek into the room through the small crack of the door.

"I know I'm being a coward Changbin but I can't do that to her. She's all I have ,man." he speaks into the phone , leaning down on his rotatory chair.

You freeze in your spot,your heartbeat resonating from every inch of your body. Who's he talking about?

"What? Are you out of your mind? I cannot tell her what I feel. That's the whole point of this damn phone call ,you fucker!" he yells.

You focus harder on their voices , trying to make out the gibberish Changbin replies with from the other end of the call.

Your body aches from standing so soundlessly, leaning half against the wall and half against the wooden door but you tell yourself to bear it for a little longer.

"No. No way. I can't. I can't do this to y/n!" Jisung hisses into the phone and then with a big pop, your bubble bursts -a bubble that you'd been building since you both were kids , designed carefully with dreams and hopes of a happy ever after with the boy in front of you. But you were weaving these dreams out of nothing but thin air. There never was anything to begin with and you always knew that.

Of course he has another girl in his life. He doesn't owe anything to you. You have no right to feel these strong emotions of jealousy and anger. You are just friends, right?

But imagining him with another woman was a poison you didn't put too much thought into until this very moment. You should have been prepared, really.

All hopes have left your side.

You turn around and walk out the same way that you came in , ignoring his mother's questions and concerned gaze. 

You want to be alone right now. Alone and away from everything that ever connected you with Han fucking Jisung.

***

He is a peculiar man, your best friend , loud yet calm , talented yet humble,his songs make more sense than his words ever could - but he intrigues you so much. It would take you a lot of time to figure Han Jisung out and you had only hoped to solve this puzzle before.. well , before he chooses to hold someone else's hand in the walk of life while you just watch from a far.

And now, you've finally run out of that borrowed time. Without even finishing half of the puzzle . The last tick of your time together has tocked.

That night, as you let the arms of grief and heartbreak pull you in , your cat(also called Snowflake) cuddles right beside you, staring at you as if it understood you.

Maybe it did. Because even you couldn't understand yourself anymore.

***

"Y/n, wake the fuck up! Come on,open the door." Your sister bangs on your door while simultaneously throwing words at you that were extremely inappropriate for an early morning conversation.

Annoying bitch. She's never cared to wake you up in the morning all your lives. Why is she changing her ways now?

You groan into your pillow, "Go away! I'll be out when I want to."

Your eyes barely find enough strength to keep themselves open. Your body aches and the bedsheet creases on your skin show evidence of a very good night's sleep in contrary to the misery you were subjected to just a few hours before that.

A heavy heart induces a good sleep , you conclude.

"I literally do not care about what you want ,y/n!" She yells against,her fist pounding against the door with more force now than from a while ago,"Come out. Right this instant."

Snowflake - who was chilling on the floor, playing with her toys - jumps on the bed ,pressing her fluffy body against your chest ,eyes glazed with fear.

"Fine. Fine. Can you stop yelling? You're scaring my baby." You reply, taking Snowflake into your arms as you run a soothing hand through her white fur.

Forcing yourself out of bed , you waddle towards the door.

"What do you want?" You unlock the door and with hooded eyes , yell at your sister, "Can you not be so fucking annoying this early in the morning?!"

Instant regret is what you feel the moment your sister steps aside, and you see the blurry figure of Han Jisung in front of your bedroom door.

Pure terror seizes you ,as your brain loses all its ability to form any response in that moment, “Hi, y/n. Can we please talk?" Jisung says, his mouth twisted into a sad smile and his puffy eyes looking at the floor.

Has he been crying? 

He wears his favorite black hoodie and a pair of grey track pants along with his SpongeBob flip flops. The bird nest on his head looks even more disheveled today, even so you find your heart beat fasten seeing this domestic look on him.

No matter what, Han Jisung is pretty.

Really pretty.

And if you were given a coin everytime you acknowledged it, you'd be a millionaire by now.

"Aw, Jisung honey, don't ask. Just walk into her room. I'm sure she's glad to see you too." Your sister replies in your stead ,sending glares towards you as if to say 'You better listen to him.'

And you're too shocked to react when he politely brushes past you and walks inside your room, settling himself at the edge of the bed. You make sure to shove a middle finger up in front of your sister's face before following suit .

Jisung's enquiries start the moment you step inside.

"I was so worried, y/n. You left my house without saying anything to anyone. Your phone was off. I wanted to come here but mom said you looked upset and that I should wait until the morning. " he sucks in a deep breath , "Y/n, baby, what the fuck happened?"

There's that word again. That damn word which has the ability to set your whole body on fire even on a cold morning like this one.

You hate the affect he has on you. You hate the affect his words have on you.

"Nothing." You mumble.

Snowflake wiggles out of your arms, and towards him.

Betrayer.

"Don't even lie to me. I am not that stupid." Jisung argues as Snowflake settles in his lap, "Y/n, have I not made it clear that I will be here for you, no matter what?"

You want to laugh. He really thinks you trust him so much that you'd tell him everything going on with you.

He's delusional - you can't possibly tell the boy you are in love with that he is the boy you are in love with. It's completely mental.

"I'm not in the mood for this conversation right now. Go home, Sungie." You say , sitting down on the bed, as far away from his warm body as possible.

Jisung sighs, "Not happening. You can call the police for all I care but I'm not moving my ass before you tell me what happened."

Snowflake snuggles into his tummy, Jisung's fingers giving her soft belly and ear rubs. 

So this is what your life has come down to - you are jealous of your cat who is getting more affection from your best friend slash crush (who is interested in someone else) than you ever did. Brilliant.

"I fucking love you , you dumb fuck. Why do you never notice! "

Jisung's lips widen into a smile. Of course Jisung knew. He has always known. Only a blind person would not notice your not very subtle efforts to win his heart and make him fall for you. Maybe it was you who was a dumb fuck because you never figured out how much Jisung loves you too even after being best friends for so long.

"You hear that, Snowflake? You heard what mommy said? She said she loves me! " Jisung's eye's glint with happiness as he picks up Snowflake, peppering her with smooches, "Your mommy loves me!"

You stare at him , confused beyond anything.

Jisung turns to you, his big signature grin fixated on his lips , " Is that why you ran away yesterday? Because God decided to punch you with the realization that you are in love with me?"

You scoff, "No, I left because you and Seo Changbin were talking about the other girl who you referred to as 'all you have '. I didn't want to know what else you refer to her as."

Jisung laughs , his shoulders vibrating with the action and his hands finding their way towards yours(Ha! How's that Snowflake!)

"You said that you heard me talk about some other girl so you must have heard some name too ,right?" He questions you , his fingers clutching your hand as if he were afraid of you running off again.

"Yeah, of course I did!" you clap back , "I heard the name - " Your heart drops as the crystal clear memory from yesterday flashes into your mind.

Jisung raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin adorning his face, "Yes? What's that?"

Oh.

Oh.

"You had said my name." you whisper.

You divert your gaze from him and focus on your clasped hands and how perfect they look together - like the sole purpose of their creation was to hold each other.

Jisung shifts closer to you , your mattress dipping under his weight.

"Yes. I said your name." He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears , "I said that I couldn't lose you because you're all that I have. And I didn't want my romantic feelings toward you to change anything between us."

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he leans toward your face.

"So y/n, Will you please stop assuming things and be my girlfriend ?" Jisung asks.

You free your hand from his and slide them around his torso, hugging him.

"Yes, yes." you whisper, "A thousand times yes."

He engulfs you in the warmest hug possible, his hand rubbing your side comfortingly while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

"Sungie look, its a butterfly." You break away from the hug momentarily to point at the yellow and blue winged butterfly that settles down on top of Snowflake 's head.

Snowflake snarls at it , trying to chase it away with her paws while you and Jisung giggle. With arms secured around the other.

"Spring is on its way, isn't it?" He asks you ,"You know what it means?"

"More green vegetables?"

"Shut up ,y/n, you're so unromantic!"

You guys giggle a little more.

"No, but seriously ,what does it mean?" you ask , looking up at him from his chest.

Jisung presses a sweet, heartwarming kiss to your head , "New beginnings. Blossoming of New things."

Hs stares at you like he's trying to say something to you without using words and you like to be believe that you are able to get what he wants to say ; it's a new beginning for you guys.

Because you've finally crossed over this border line of friendship and stepped into the zone of no return, exiting the grey area you disliked so much.

And you know every second of it will be beautiful.

[witchiswriting]

‘Tis the Damn Season Chapter 1

Summary: Pre-Apocalypse.  Adrielle left her town and Negan behind three years ago but when she comes back along with her feelings she found the man she couldn’t get over is moved on. Dealing with depression at the same time, could Adrielle find what she’s looking for?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Depressed Main Character, Mental Illnes

Author’s Note: This is a story I came up with when I listened to Taylor’s Tis the Damn Season song. I don’t know how but the song painted a really clear picture for this story. So, I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. Also it’s my participation to @band--psycho​‘s Music Writing Challenge.

Pairings: Negan x Adrielle (OC)

Enjoying feeling of the melting snowflake on tip of your nose, you watched the town you could never leave behind. No matter how long it has been, this place has been with you all the time. Thinking about the Christmas dinners your mother served every year even though you were absent in all of them for the past 3 years. During those years you thought you were healed, or you made yourself believe it. The difference doesn’t matter, you’re here because of him. Because you can’t deny your feelings anymore. You miss the man you hurt the most.

After all the things that took place and all the disasters you left behind your departure, you couldn't control your feelings and fears anymore. So, you left LA for the holiday season and came back to spend Christmas with your family, and if you are lucky enough, with him.

In the past 3 years you thought if he moved on and found someone else who is worthy of his love. The possibility left a bitter taste in your mouth. You know you are being selfish but imagining him with some other woman makes your heart ache. So, you’d done what you do best, drowning yourself in meaningless relationship and casual sex yet it wasn’t enough to stop that nasty voice in your head, none of them were him.

Shutting down your cruel mind, you quickly pushed the thoughts away. You were standing in front of the door of your home, your parents’ home to be correct. You put on the best smile on your face and knocked the wooden surface.

In a rush the door opened, and you found your mom, Jane, in front of you, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. The years added a few wrinkles around her eyes, but her emerald green orbs shined with the same tenderness. Her hair was longer, and it suited her sharp features just right.

'Oh, thank goodness, you're finally here' Jane took you between her welcoming arms, surrounding you with that welcoming feeling you’d never forgotten, holding you tightly. 'Adrielle Pamela Wintringham! If you dare not coming back and visit us every year, you'll find me on your door with my bags. This is a serious threat miss!' She laughed into your raven hair.

Before being able to answer your mom, you heard a pair of very familiar footsteps. Your father, the only man you trust with your own life, is now standing right before you.

'Jane, leave the poor girl alone. If you keep saying shit like that, she will probably change her identity and start a new life who knows goddamn where.'  He joked, showing his pearly whites.

Leaving your mom, you took a big step and hugged your dad.  The break which lasted for 3 years made you miss your family more than you could ever imagine. 'Well, dad don't worry. I'll be coming back every year from now on. I missed you so much, guys.' You didn't even try to hold your tears back.

William laughed smoothly. 'C'mon Elle, let's get inside before we all get our asses frozen as shit.'

 Stepping into the house, you immediately went back to 3 years back. Nothing has changed. The beige couch you used to spend your days on is still located at the same place, the warm colour of the walls never failed to make you feel at ease, the shelves are still stuffed with your and your sister’s pictures. Though a new one caught your eye, she was standing with her volleyball team, holding the medal she probably won and next to him was the person you wanted to see most and avoid at the same time.

He had that charming smile on his lips, of course he has changed over the years, the salt and pepper beard took its place around his mouth. You remembered the feel of his stubble on your skin. ‘Fucking great’ you thought, years did him good. He was more handsome than you remembered, and you used to think it wasn’t possible.

Clearing her throat, Jane interrupted your thoughts with a soft tone. You knew she saw you staring at that picture but didn’t say anything and honestly you were grateful for that. Yes, you came back mostly because of him but it didn’t mean you were ready to face him even though through a picture in the first moments of your arrival.

'Baby, go change. The dinner will be ready in 10 and hopefully your wayward sister will be back by then.'

Making a fake offended face 'Where the hell is Andrea? I mean the Santa is back in town but she's out.' you joked slightly.

You knew you hit a sore spot when you parents shared a worried glance, they were still thinking about your mental struggles probably, but you wanted to prove that you’d beaten down the illness that chasing you since your childhood.

'Honey, she's out helping to the others with the giant Christmas tree which they put in the centre of the city.' William explained like it was nothing, but you knew your father too well to catch the tension in his baritone voice.

Not wanting to address the elephant in the room so you shook your head replying with a cheerful tone, 'Apparently nothing has changed. God I really missed this town.' The words slipped out from your mouth, but you weren't sure your parents bought it.

It's an old tradition that kept going on in your town for years and you have no doubt about Negan being there, helping everybody with a joy. He always loved this kind of stuff, you silently hoped this hasn't changed, and unfortunately Andrea is one of his best students.

Jane called from the dining room, letting you know that dinner is ready. Feeling thankful for distraction, you pulled a chair, took your usual spot in front of her.

Just as you were about to take a big bite from the delicious chicken, your troublemaker sister stepped in and made her presence known. She was looking at you with a Cheshire cat grin on her face.

'YAY! The older one is back. I have so many things to tell you Adri, oh, by the way we're still having the dinner tomorrow night, right? There are 5 days to Christmas, and it would be a shame if we skip that famous tradition.' She let the words out from her lips with overjoy. Andrea has always been a social butterfly and on the contrary of kids her age she enjoyed hanging with adults.  

'Is there a special reason for mom to not throw the party this year?  Or is it my presence that bugs you little lady?' You said with a sassy tone before you could think about the sore subject you spotted on. As soon as you realised what you just said you kicked yourself internally.

'Don't worry babe, I already planned everything and told everyone. We're going to be so busy tomorrow night.' Thankfully, your mom ran to the rescue again and replied with nonchalance.

Beyond excited Andrea blundered without realization, ‘Oh great! That means Coach Negan is coming too.’’

For a moment everyone around the table didn't mutter a word and you heard your sister whispering 'oh shit' looking at her feet.

The awkward silence was starting to annoy you, so you sighed and decided to clear the air, at least with your family. 'Guys, I really appreciate your concern, but it's been years, we both are adults and what happened back then is water under the bridge. You can't prevent us from encountering each other. I'm pretty sure Negan wouldn’t have a problem with this too. I'm sure he's already moved on and living his life peacefully. I doubt he would turn his back and run as soon as he sees me. Also, I’m here to fix my past mistakes. I can’t do that if I avoid talking to him, right?’ You arched your left eyebrow, a faux smile on your lips, the tension you feel in your stomach could make you burst into tears and then make you laugh hysterically afterwards. You were trying your best to suppress this feeling.

Your mom examined your face with a suspicious look but didn’t pressure the matter further and raised her glass in a toast.

Quickly the heaviness in the air disappeared and left its place to cosy atmosphere.

You could feel your insides hurt from laughing too much at your sister’s adventures in the school.

The happy banter interrupted with the ringing doorbell. Andrea started getting up from her seat. ‘It’s probably Nancy, she forgot her folder in my room this morning.’

Before she could move forward you stood up. ‘If it’s okay with you I would like to answer the door. I missed her too since she practically grew up in our house.’

With a genuine smile you walked toward the door. Ready for greeting Nancy and chat with her after a couple of years. You loved her like your sister. Both of them always managed to cheer you up.

You met with a pair of hazel eyes instead of Nancy’s blue ones. Negan was standing before you just shocked as you were, staring at you with wide eyes.

You were speechless. You didn’t expect to face him this early, you’re caught off guard.

His lips curled upwards with a genuine smile. Trying to be polite and casual as possible he finally said something. ‘Oh, hi. I didn’t know you’re back.’

Shaking off the whirling emotions that made you dumbfounded. ‘Hi, uh yes I’m back for Christmas.’’ You said, managed to keep trembling off your voice.

You continue to stare at each other. There was so much you want to tell him, and you weren’t sure if you could stop yourself from your arms around his neck.

‘Elle, baby invite Nancy in. You’re going to freeze to death if you keep standing on the porch.’ Your father intervened before you made something stupid.

Your dad couldn’t hide the slight shock but shrugged it off quickly. ‘Hello Negan. Troublemaker daughter of mine forgot something again?’ He asked with a smirk on his lips.

Negan laughed, you wished you could keep the butterflies in your stomach cool. ‘Fuck, not this time William. Actually, I’m here to give you these cookies.’

Deciding to form a friendly banter with him and yourself you popped the question. ‘Wow, did Coach Negan learn how to cook finally?’ You teased slightly.

He bit his lower lip before answering your simple question. ‘I wish I could fucking say yes but no, Eleanor baked them.’

Yeah, he indeed moved on.

@negans-network​

[missnight0wl]

"Some kind of conscious being", you said. Sounds pretty interesting. By that, do you mean another person who can use Legilimency as well or that conscious being is something else? Maybe a powerful magic ancient being that R wants to possess or use? I don't believe that there is only one great witch/wizard villain in that world, it's impossible.

Hm, I suppose it could’ve been a person. Let’s just keep in mind that we’re talking here about whatever or whoever was originally placed in the final vault, so that person had to be pretty ancient. It was implied that the Cursed Vaults were created around the same time as Hogwarts, so approximately a thousand years ago. Now, it’s not impossible, and we have two possibilities here: 1) being trapped in the Vault gives them immortality (or at least longevity), 2) it’s someone who achieved immortality in some way, perhaps even more effective than the Philosopher’s Stone. I’d say that the second option is more likely as we also know that R themselves is interested in obtaining “enlightenment and immortality”.

Perhaps they hope this person could mentor them or something?

That being said, I personally thought rather about “a powerful magic ancient being”, yeah. It just makes more sense in my mind. We know there are creatures with Legilimency skills, like a Wampus Cat, for example. I don’t know what could it be here exactly, but since it’s about something ancient, the possibilities are pretty much endless, if you ask me. Sure, Jam City is using a lot of things already existing in the HP universe, but the Cursed Vaults alone are an original idea, and so “the treasure” could be as well. And we didn’t get much to go by so far. I mean, we had that one clue from the “Nearly Headless Nick” SQ:

To be fair, it kind of suggests that it’s rather some object. But then, it can also be something that’s “binding” the being and THAT can’t be moved, you know? Like, the final vault would be “trapping” then both the binding object and the ancient being

Either way, there’s definitely some sort of a mental connection between MC and the Cursed Vaults. In the Vault of Fear, the Mysterious Voice told us that something is already inside us and we have to fight it. The whole duel with Boggart!Voldemort apparently happened in MC’s mind as Tulip later told us that we were suspended in the air like a puppet. Then we had something in our head with the Legilimency door again… It’s also odd how the visions trigger in the right moment, especially with the Snowflake Door, in the Vault of Ice, and in the Forest Vault – it happens after MC’s direct touch. It could be because – as I theorise – MC’s family is actually connected to the final vault and needed to open it. In other words, they’re a human version of Torvus’s arrow, in a way. Although it can have something to do with that being we discuss here. Like, MC got “infected” with it during their first contact with the Vaults, and that’s what that “inside” refers to?

Also, I’m not sure if in your last sentence you talked about “other wizards who would like to possess the Vaults’ power like R does”, but it actually reminded me about something. Right after the events of the Portrait Vault, at the end of Y5, Dumbledore mentioned this:

I believe Moody might’ve brought up something similar at the beginning of Y6. And honestly, I was so excited about that race. I was waiting for that various Curse-Breakers to start appearing, trying to win MC over by pretending to be friendly, or on the contrary – showing signs of aggressive rivalry. It’s such wasted potential, both for very interesting characters and the story around them. Like, we could question their motives and whatnot. How cool would it be?

[lurking-lilibeth]

The Contary family is next, and they have a new family member. Kitty Alice the cat had to be rehomed by her previous owners, the Joques, and Rick adopted her. Thankfully, Kitty Alice seems to actually get along with Snowflake, unlike the cats in her old home.

[secondhand-trash]

Every Snowflake Is Different(Just Like You)

Ficmas day 3 aka 4 days till Christmas owo

A/N: I’m aware that the plot doesn’t actually echoes the song all that much but hey, at least it’s cute and fluffy. (It is cute, right? Right???)

Description: There is something different about this person he always share a lift with each morning.

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x reader

Word count: 2224

Yes, I know that this is not techincally an actual Christmas song but I like it so it counts.

-

There was something special about this person he always share a lift with.

After he graduated, Todoroki Shouto did the exact opposite of what the public expected him to do and joined a small hero agency as a sidekick instead of working for his father or made the jumpstart to directly owning his own agency like people speculated him to do so. He didn’t bother explaining his decision to anyone, the ones whose opinion mattered to him were the ones that understood the motives behind his decision right away without even needing an explanation. 

He had learned all he needed to know from his father already, the title of being the no 1 hero’s son didn’t bother him anymore than it matters to him. It was his life, his career, and he would do what he thinks will work the best for him.

Amidst the tens and hundreds of agencies that poured in fighting over him, he ended up choosing a humble agency that located on the top floor of an office building. The small-scale agency was a huge contrast from the one that he interned at, taking up only a small part of the building instead of having one whole skyscraper dedicated to one single hero like many others. The pro-hero he worked for wasn’t the most popular or the most skilled, they were rather mundane, in all honesty. But that down-to-earth aspect of the hero showed him that there was more to being a hero than just skills and reputation. To save lives, you must first understand how most people live and it was the thing that he didn’t learn from the harsh training he was given his entire life.

He had spent his entire life being a hero in making that sometimes he forgot how to be just a regular person and it was a lot of conflict between wanting to prove that he was different than who people think he is and not wanting to be treated differently because of it.

It took a while for everyone else who worked at that office building to act indifferently around him. For a while, there were constant glances and whispers from people when they thought he wasn’t aware. Shouto knew that he would have to live with that his entire life with what he does for a living and his background, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a little relieved the first time he walked into the elevator without anyone in the compressed space paying any extra attention on him.

For once, he was just Shouto. Nothing more, nothing less.

While he was starting to blend in with the many civilians who were just there every morning to go to their respective duties, there was someone in the middle of that cramped 9am elevator ride that caught his attention.

You always arrived at the office building at sharply 8:54 every morning, just a little bit later than him which means that he sees you walking in from the heavy glass doors every morning from the lobby. You would stand next to him, staring at the changing numbers of the sign above the elevator with a cup of coffee in hand. For a short while, it would be just you and him until others who work at different offices of the building started rushing in and lining up behind you. 

The lifts were always crowded in the morning and people couldn’t be any more impatient as they tried to squeeze into the small compartment, not wanting to wait 3 extra minutes for the next ride. Being the first ones in the line, he would always end up standing next to you in the corner. The few interactions he had with you mostly muttered apologies when either one of you bumped into the other person when the lift got too crowded of people were trying to get in. He had come to notice that you were more concern about your coffee than you were about yourself, brows knitting together and shielding the cup with an arm whenever people stood too close to you but didn’t seem to care much when he bumped into your shoulder.

By the time the elevator stopped for perhaps the fourth or fifth time, most people would have already left the lift, leaving only the two of you. At that point, he would have already taken a few steps away from you now that there are more space. 

There would always be a sigh of relieve from you whenever people started exiting the lift. From the way your shoulders eased and you shifted from one foot to another, he made the guess that you went on your tip toes to make more space when people started pouring in. That’s when you would pop the lid of the cup off and take a sip of your coffee, filling the entire lift with the strong aroma. It smelt more sweet than it does bitter each time, you must have added a ton of milk and sugar to the drink.

You worked just a floor beneath him, leaving plenty of time for him to be alone with you in that lift before you walked out of it eventually. He wasn’t sure if it was pure curiosity, his own boredom or something else but before Shouto even knew it, he had made a mental note on a lot of your small ticks and quirks.

You let out a soft hiss every time you took the first sip of your coffee and tried to pretend that it didn’t happen, blowing gently at the steaming liquid to cool it down before carefully testing the temperature with the tip of your tongue again. You were wary of other people noticing that embarrassing moment because he had caught you glancing at him sideways after doing that once and you immediately looked up like nothing happened. On the contrary of your cat’s tongue, you seemed to be very sensitive towards the cold because you always carry a cardigan in one hand no matter what weather it was out there.

He wasn’t sure what it was that made you stood out from everyone else who he sees in that building every day but he found himself to look forward to that short amount of time he spent in the lift each morning. 

You seemed to be different from everyone else. Unique in some way that he couldn’t begin to describe. There was something special about you, and he wondered what it was.

As people started rushing in, his eyes naturally searched amongst many other figures to see if he could catch a glimpse of you this morning as well. There were times when he found himself getting too anxious about it when you were practically a stranger to him in all means but it had all become a part of his routine by now and the possibility of each time being the last worried him a lot more than it should. 

Perhaps one day, you would just stop showing up and he would never know. He wouldn’t even know your name and he would always just be another person you run into each day for you when you always seemed so special to him.

But that was a dilemma for another day as you walked past the tall glass doors wearing the heaviest coat Shouto had ever seen. He was well-aware that it was winter and although he wasn’t one to be sensitive to the drop in temperature due to his own quirk, all the people around him had decked out the woolen garments and the coats. You, on the other hand, seemed to just pile everything you could fit into onto yourself with a scarf around your neck and your arms clearly restrained by the thick sleeves of your coat. 

All the extra layers made it even harder for everyone to fit into one single lift. Shouto couldn’t contain the sigh of relieve that escaped his lips when the last person who was pressed up against him left. 

Finally, some space to breathe in.

From the corner of his eye, he could see you slowly peeling off the many layers you were wearing. You seemed to struggle a little as you passed the paper cup from hand to hand as you clumsily tried to pull your arms out of the sleeves. He discretely glanced at you as you take of your scarf, your coat, another jacket, only to reveal that you were still wearing a cardigan beneath all the other garments.

It wasn’t really that cold, was it?

He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when the bell rang, signaling that it was your floor. Now carrying a large pile of cloths in your arm, you stepped out of the lift and his eyes never once left your back, trying to take just one more look at you before he had to wait for the next morning to come.

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest when you suddenly turned around and stop the door from closing with your foot. A loud bang could be heard as you slammed the side of your shoe onto the bar of the door.

“You know,” you said with a wide smirk to the hero who was still in shock, “you could have just say something to mean instead of staring the whole time.”

With that, you turned on your heels like nothing happened, leaving a very flustered Shouto in the lift all by himself. His face heated up at the realisation that his staring hadn’t been so discrete after all.

The entire building went into a state of panic and chaos when the fire alarm of the entire building rang.

Shouto was uncharacteristically nervous when he was waiting for the lift the next day.

Now that you knew he had been looking at you the whole time, would you try to avoid him? Would your only impression of him be that he acted like a creep? He could feel his face heating up once again when you walked into the building and stood behind him. Desperately trying to act normal, he scrambled to maintain his body temperature by activating his quirk, keeping up a face of indifference.

He had physically forced himself to stop glancing at your direction when he caught his gaze wandering several times while being in the lift. He was never the best at socialising and although those few years he spent at school did help, he still found it hard to truly read social cues sometimes. The fact that he had to confront you eventually didn’t help with the dryness at the back of his throat.

It was only when the people were staring to clear out that he noticed you were holding two cups in your hand instead of one. It shouldn’t have mattered to him but the slight oddity irked him, did you bought the extra drink for someone? It made him bitter in how little he barely knew about you but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. It was ridiculous and made no sense, whatever that thing he felt in his chest was, he did not want it at all.

“Here.” 

He snapped out of his thoughts when you nudged at his shoulder, extending an arm to hand him a cup. You were smiling at him and he was utterly confused.

You chuckled when you saw his blank expression examining you. “Are you gonna take it or what?”

Taking the cup from your hand, his fingertips were instantly met with a soothing warmth. He wasn’t one to be sensitive to heat, but he could feel his entire body heating up when you continued grinning at him. “Thank you, but what for?”

“You seemed to be rather intrigued by my drink every day so I decided to get you one.” You said, “Hot chocolate to warm you up, you never seem to be wearing enough clothes.”

Shouto would like to argue that you were the one who was wearing too many layers but swallowed it back. You popped off the lid of your cup and scrunched your face together after taking a small sip after letting out a small cough. “Mine has already gone cold though so it might not work as well as I hoped it to.”

He didn’t say another word as he take your drink in his hand and you gasped when you saw steam rising from the previous lukewarm beverage. “Here.”

You were still awestruck when he handed back your cup and you hummed in content when you felt the warm sweetness on the tip of your tongue. Right at that moment, the elevator’s door opened and you looked up to see that it was your floor.

Putting one hand on the sensor, you looked back and smiled at the hero who was tentatively taking a sip of the reheated chocolate. “You really are a special one, aren’t you?”

Still a bit flabbergasted from the encounter, Shouto let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in as he sipped on his drink. 

Special. You called him special.

With a soft smile on his lips, his brows quirked up when he twisted the cup to see lines of scribbled number on the cup holder.

“Text me? xoxo”

[realisationanddoubt]

The binary: realisations and rants

Can we talk about the gender binary a bit? Of course we can. It’s my blog, we can talk about Naruto or the impossibility of clown cars if I wish. So I’ve been thinking a lot about me after my break up as, I suppose, is normal. Thanks to this I’ve stumbled across an identity crisis I’ve been putting off for years. I’m non-binary and that’s a weird thing to just non-chalantly write down for me. See, I’ve spent years talking about how I don’t really care about gender. As a bisexual, I’ve had the conversation numerous times. As a stereotypically effiminate person I’ve spoken many times about how I’m comfortable in myself acting however I want because the gender stereotypes hold no interest to me. But I’ve never really bothered to delve into why.

It’s taken awhile to come to terms with being non-binary. It’s like coming to terms with my sexuality all over again. As usual, I’ve been presented a choice. The sexuality and identity fairy came to me twice now and happily asked “men or women” and I, in classic me style, didn’t really pay attention to the fact that there was a clear binary choice and only half listening just replied “Oh, no thank you!”

It’s difficult to live in a world defined by binaries and then realise you’re not really interested in participating. When I very first realised I might be non-binary a couple of months back, I got lost in a strange narrative. Do I need to start wearing make up? Should I make myself more androgynous, shave my beard? How do I present as non-binary? Of course the answer (For me) is you don’t. I should have really known that from the start because I had to do the same thing with my bisexuality. It took many years to get from “How do I let everyone know I’m bisexual?” to “I don’t really care who knows what my sexuality is and I have no desire to share that information.” I’ve approached being non-binary much the same. I get that people are proud of their sexuality and identity and seriously, good for them. That must be a nice thing to have. Thing is I’m not particularly proud. Let me see if I can put this into words.

So for me, sexuality and identity are both very matter of fact. I’m not proud of either of those aspects of me but don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed. The idea of being proud of either of those things is, for me at least, the same as being proud of having curly hair or brown eyes. Sure, there was some emotional turmoil coming to terms with my sexuality and identity but it’s not like these are things I had to strive and work for. They’re just facts. I don’t really care if people call me he or they. They feels a bit more natural I guess but it doesn’t particulalry bother me being called he. And note, I get called he because I have a beard and a masculine build. When I was a teenager with heavy eyeliner and long flowing hair I got called miss and she a lot and that never particularly bothered me either. I’ve never particualraly felt some kind of rage at being misgendered. I don’t really care that people assume I’m straight (I kind of care in that way of, Jesus dude open your mind and stop making assumptions but not enough that I’ve felt the need to correct anyone.)

Though I wonder how much this is a story I tell myself. Just like it’s difficult telling yourself actually, you’re not any of the traditional genders, telling yourself you don’t really care about presenting and pronouns in a community that’s so fired up about them feels weird. 

“Welcome to the queer community! Would you like to be angry about misrepresntation of your sexuality or your identity?” The queer fairy politely but firmly asks.

“Ah, no thank you, I’ve already eaten.” Josh replies, not really paying attention to the climate or the question.

I even considered whether I’m supposed to change my name. Am I supposed to change my name to something a bit more androgynous? Maybe start calling myself Alex or Frankie or any other name that could be either gender? But I don’t want to. I’m just Josh. I’m a bisexual, non binary mess and Josh is my descriptor. 

Should I care more? Should I be fighting some war against ignorance? Am I somehow doing a disservice by not participating?

Not participating is basically my default. “Here lies Josh, they didn’t participate.”

I kind of make life more difficult for myself by not divulging these things. People have asked me before “Are you gay?” and I just reply “nope!”. Then I get annoyed that people just assume I’m straight despite literally never giving any evidence to the contrary. I guess it’s just a problem with the system. My sexuality and identity are improtant to me but they’re personal. I’m not going to talk about them to work colleagues or friends anymore than I’m going to talk about my kinks. 

“Hey Josh are you gay?” My well meaning but misguided colleague asks.

“Oh no, I’m bisexual, non-binary and I like scratching and biting during sex.”

You really going to just out your kinks like that online huh my dude? It should say enough about me that I feel a swell of anxiety to putting a fairly vanilla kink on a personal blog no one I know will ever read. Do I really want Tumblruser420 to know I like biting in bed? Feels like an overshare. 

This really became a bit of a deep dive into gender identity huh? I guess I’m just going through some stuff. 

Quick tangent, whenever I hear a noise in my house, despite having two cats that are always the cause, I need to check every room just in case. I even check the bathroom which only has one very small window next to the door. Just in case some sneak thief broke in through the plughole I guess. Some S’wit. Some N’wah.

God I’m just going through some Stuff y’know? I worry how much of my outlook might be down to internalised shame and not just non-chalant IDGAF attitude. I haven’t put Non-Binary on my tinder profile. I mean I have but I’ve set it not to show. I don’t know if that’s out of fear of being judged for it or simply because I haven’t come to terms with it myself. To be clear, I definitely haven’t come to terms with it myself yet. I have bisexual on my profile but I guess I’m still kind of ashamed of that.

Is it shame? I guess it’s more fear. Not like a fear for myself or my safety or anything. More a fear of people’s perceptions. It’s not even that I’m scared people will be shitty to me because of it. If that’s the kind of person they are, fuck them. I just don’t want to be “That queer one”. Does that make sense? I kind of hate to term cishet because it only seems to be used as derogatory but I need to use it a sec. I think the main reason I’m happy to just pass as cishet is because then I’m allowed to be a person. The second you’re something different that’s it. That defines you. I get it needs to be a conversation so people stop being ignorant and hateful but at the same time even just the discussion about it feels like it’s pushing me into this definition. Like being bi or being non-binary means I’m a certain kind of person. 

I guess it’s the classic tale of any ism. Racism, sexism, homophobia...ism. I am bisexual. I am non-binary. But I don’t want to be the bisexual. Being defined by something like that, something so out of your control... It feels so... dismissive? I’m not a person anymore. I’m not Josh. I’m a bisexual. I’m non binary. I’m white. I present as a man. All that shit. This is starting to become a rant on the construction of society as a whole and the role of privelege and what that means huh?

I’m creative, emotional, witty. That’s what I’m defined by. That’s who I am. I’m not just some pigeon hole word. Define me by my facets, not my facts.

Realisations are a funny thing. I have a lot of realisations in my life and mostly I like them but this one leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It’s not that I don’t care, that much is apparent after this rant. I’m just so tired of it. I avoid all the discourse and conversations about any kind of identity issues because I’m tired of defending myself. It doesn’t matter where you fall on the spectrum. These kind of labels aren’t useful. They’re just a method of pinning something to someone that says “Can I just hate this person out of hand.” and it’s rife. It’s everywhere and it’s all the same. I don’t care if you’re having a rant about black people or a rant about cishets. It’s all just vicious hate. We live in a world where people are so desperate to have someone to hate because they’re different. Whether that difference is in the majority or the minority it doesn’t matter. Hating all men or all straights or all whites is no different from hating all trans people or all queer people or all black people. Hating all millenials because they’re special snowflakes is no different from hating all boomers because they’re not progressive. It’s just pure hatred because they’re different. Just blanket statements attached to something someone can’t control to give you a reason to say “Oh don’t worry, I’m allowed to hate them”.

Maybe keeping my identity or my sexuality to myself makes me a coward. Fine. I refuse to participate in these wars of hatred. I just want to spend time with my cats, fall in love, help people and laugh. 

As always, as will be written on my gravestone one day, I refuse to participate. To all those people who fight for my ideal world on my behalf, thank you. To all those people on either side, progressive or traditional, just to hate one subset of people, go fuck yourselves. I’ll just be over here, trying to make the dying smile and trying to give people a little longer in this world to spend with the people they love.

That’s it. Rant over. I’m going to try and get another hour or two of sleep before work. I know it’s customary to drop the mic after a big speech but know if it felt like I did, I just fumbled putting it back into the mic stand and I’m trying to own it. If you look closely you’ll see that the blood has drained from my face and perspiration is clear on my forehead.

[pennys-th0ughts]

The Bond (Chapter One)

… And life slowly left her body as a subtle and relieving shiver that brought peace and every trace of sadness, finally, faded away…

Three bright and shinning dots were dancing slowly on the palm of my hand; they looked pretty much like three tiny stars playing some kind of children’s game, taking turns to shine brighter in front of my eyes. The sky was darker than usual that night seeming to reflect the deepest echoes coming from the bottom of my being. Something was cracking inside of me and I couldn’t know what it was but the feeling was like thousands of sharp needles piercing my entire body. I was feeling powerless and, ironically, empty. That moment felt like it lasted years and I was watching the scene sequence in slow motion over and over again and once it finished, it repeated again, tearing my insides apart one more time. I grabbed my head with both hands and began plunging my nails in the middle of my scalp until blood started to flow drawing thick lines all over my face. I kept forcing open the wound until I heard skin and flesh being tearing apart and, strongly pulling from both sides, I finally managed to rip up the human shell that was keeping my true me hiding. This ends here and now – I thought to myself and jumped into the pitch black void waiting to be fed…

 A hand landed on my shoulder giving me a little start.

– ¿Are you alright? – Her tender voice made me snap out of it.

I looked down until I only saw her small feet in front of mine; she sat down next to me and searched for my wandering eyes. Her inviting gaze was so persistent that it finally made me look at her eyes; those beautiful mortal gateways full of life that somehow, in that very moment, became some kind of mystic meaning to my never-ending existence. I remained silent for some minutes until I could get a grip of myself and bring the strongest side of my multiple shapeshifting personality.

– Yes, everything is alright, my dear – I finally said in a sigh trying to fake a smile.

–  You seemed upset – she accurately pointed out-. ¿Are you sure you are okay?

I fixed my deep blue eyes with her unique blue-and-green ones and deeply breathing in, I said:

– I am now…

 Minutes became hours and hours became days. Days flew by like a magnificent hummingbird showing off its beautiful iridescent colors in a warm spring morning. The birds were chirping outside and the light rain was hitting against the window as if it was saying hello. Not so far there was a rainbow displaying a soft color palette, making a big effort to stand out from behind the clouds.

Amy was already up and I was still in bed trying my best to wake up from a long night of movies and popcorn. She knew those crunchy little things were my favorite so she made a bunch of it. We used to love spending rainy nights watching scary movies despite Amy would spend most of said time covering her eyes at any slight spooky scene, which I thought it was sweet and would take the chance to hug her tight.  

I was about to get up when Amy’s cat jumped on my lap, he spun around a couple times over my chest and began to purr. The story about this kitty and me didn’t have a good start since he apparently hated me from the very first second he saw me but I can’t really blame the poor creature, he was used to Amy’s presence only and I arrived to their lives like an unexpected summer storm. He wouldn’t stop hissing at me and behaving in a defensive way until, according to Amy’s instructions of ignoring him; he would finally give up being so cranky and accept he will be no longer the only alpha male in the house.

The smell of coffee just made ended up waking me up for good. I got dressed and went down stairs to join Amy for breakfast. We had a long day ahead and there was nothing better than to start it with a delicious strong flavor in the palate.

Things didn’t start as many would think and to get to this very point Amy would have to deal with her biggest fear first.

It all began one cloudy, cold and dark night when snowflakes stopped falling from the sky and the bright stars of winter started to shine harder, clearing the path to a new and more cheerful season.

Amara, as her actual name was, had decided to spend some hours skating in the public ice skating rink that afternoon. Soon that rink would become was usually was, a not so large pond where ducks would come back and swim again. People started to leave when the first shades of the night broke into the slowly dying sunset, leaving Amara all by herself. I suppose she didn’t mind to be alone since I saw her enjoying that moment of solitude. I was watching her from behind the pale white trees, poking my head out from time to time trying not to raise suspicions about my presence since I was also enjoying her delicate and neat performance on the ice. In one moment I got distracted she lost control of one of her feet and crashed against the floor so heavily that for a second I thought it would break under her weight. My heart skipped a bit and my pulse managed to accelerate its pace in a fraction of a second making me feel it in my throat. She remained on the cold floor for some minutes until she finally sat down and began rubbing the knee she had hit. I unconsciously stood up and made a step forward not realizing that she would probably freak out because of my aspect so quickly hid behind the tree and changed my appearance to a friendlier one.

– ¡Hey! – I walked towards her speeding my pace up - ¿Are you okay?

The surprised looked on her face revealed that I caught her without notice but she apparently didn’t mind and answered me back making her best to sound confident.

– ¡Hi, yes, I'm alright!

Once closer to her I knelt to take a look to her knee. She had suffered a quite strong hit in her knee cap and a not so deep scratch had left some thin lines of blood on sight. I offered myself to help her and get her sit in one of the nearest benches so we could take care of her little accident. She hesitated at first but she finally agreed. I took her arm and made her surround my neck with it so she could have more stability to walk and limp less.

– Pretty nasty fall you had there – I pointed out frowning at the slightly purple coloring her skin was starting to develop.

The girl chuckled a little embarrassed of being clumsy but it actually that fall wasn’t completely her fault since the ice floor was somewhat cracked in that part and that was what made her lose balance. I was so absorbed by taking care of her bruise that I barely stopped to pay attention to her physiognomy. When her knee was at last covered by a little bandage, I finally sat down next to her on the bench and sighed.

– That was very nice of you – I heard her shy and yet very sweet voice-. Thank you…

– Gray, Robert Gray – I hurried to introduce myself politely-. ¿And you are…?

She moved away a lock of her black her, placing it behind her ear and locked her different colored eyes with mine.

– I'm Amara, Amara Whitemoon – she shook my hand- but you can call me Amy.  

The beauty of her blue and green eyes was captivating and being my first time seeing such a unique genetic mischief kept me staring at her like a child watching a big bowl full of warm buttered popcorn.

– You are really pretty… - I unconsciously said at loud, and then I realized how bad that probably must have sounded-. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn’t-

Amara smiled with something more than sweetness in her lips that made me swallow with some difficulty but also got me distracted from the delicious smell of some drops of blood that managed to get through the bandage. Its sugary base with some metallic notes was threating me to make me drool and sometimes it wasn’t easy for me to notice it until it was too late but, fortunately, this wouldn’t be the case.

I helped Amara to stand up; she pulled up the hood of her coat and smiled at me once more. I was too focused on her lips that I barely heard what she was saying until the daydream bubble I was floating inside of burst.

– Thank you for being so kind and helping me, Robert – she said looking down-. ¿Would you like to join me for a coffee as a sign of gratitude?

I hesitated for a second if it would be a good idea but seeing so much excitement in her eyes was like a powerful kick to my will that made me accept her invitation. I put the rest of my belongings inside my bag pack and we started our way back to town.

It was ten o’clock and in on our way to the nearest cafe we got to talk about a few things regarding our civil status, studies, likes and dislikes and a very tricky one, our place of residence. I tried to avoid answering this last one at all cost since I was sure Amara wouldn’t like it one bit.

– ¡We are finally here! – She said with an enthusiastic tone and grabbing hold of my arm, she almost pushed me inside.

I let her pick the table and we sat down placing our things on an empty chair. We waited for the waitress to come and give us the menus. Amara told me to pick whatever I wanted but since it was the first time being out of the sewers for something that wasn’t my usual meal, I limited myself to have the simpler of the drinks possible, besides water of course. Amara, on the contrary, ordered a cappuccino, a couple of croissants and a half-size glass of orange juice.

– ¿Are you going to be okay with a simple coffee? – She asked curious but more confident than minutes before.

I shrugged my shoulders not knowing what to answer. Amara waved her hand to the waitress and asked her to bring me the same she would have, me, on the other hand, tried unsuccessfully to avoid her spending too much money in our not-at-all-planned-and-accidentally-improvised date.

Few minutes passed until we had what we ordered on our table. Amara was excited to a have sip of her hot drink and me, well, I didn’t know where to begin with so I followed her moves. First, she sweeten it, then she picked a croissant, took a bite and finally a sip to her cappuccino. I did the same and found out that the drink was beyond delicious. Like a child who finds a secret door to an undiscovered fantasy world, my hunger for this new delicacy went far from what I could ever imagined and made me want to eat it all in one go. Amara saw my intentions of devouring everything at the speed of light so she placed her hand over my forearm and invited me to enjoy it a little more.

– Take it easy big guy – she smiled amused-. We don’t you to choke with the croissants ¿don’t we?

I smiled back at her being me who felt somewhat embarrassed this time. I finished my food slowly, enjoying each sip and bite. I cleaned up my mouth of the crumbs with a paper napkin just to keep myself inside the circle of politeness and sat back to stretch my legs. Amara stood up and excused herself to use the women’s room; I nodded with a smile and hold her purse. I was fidgeting with a paper napkin when I saw her finally getting out and making her way back to the table when a couple of men blocked her path. I raised my blue eyes just to meet hers and her upset look quietly asking for help.

– ¿What is a beautiful weirdo doing so late in a café? – One of the men addressed her in the most petulant way he could-. ¿Looking for a date, sweetheart?

– Or maybe she is just looking for someone to put one of her eyes in the same color… - the other man answered his partner a question he never made.

I didn’t wait much longer to stand up and step in, placing myself at one of the scumbag’s back. The one who was facing me raised his eyes until he could reach my line of sight, doing a notorious effort to hold it. My right hand landed heavily on the other man’s shoulder, once he stopped talking, I began clenching my fist slowly but firmly.

– That’s not the way to talk to a lady – I bent forward until he could feel my breath tingling in his ear-. Apologize to her and we can leave this here and now and forget what just happened.

The man facing me froze on the spot and the other one turned around with violent intent until he saw I was more than three inches above his line of view. The man, now behind his partner, blinked several times as if he was trying to find a way out of the oppressing situation I had put them under until he finally lifted both hands as a sing of surrender, he quietly apologized and stepped away leaving his partner on his own.

– So, - I squeezed his shoulder a little harder this time-. ¿What do you say?

– ¡Alright, alright! – He cried-. I apologize to the lady…

– ¿For what…? – I squeezed even harder piercing his clothes with pointy nails.

– ¡For calling her weirdo!  

I loosen my grip and let him go, clearing his way so he could rush and meet his coward friend outside the cafeteria. Amara was standing next to me, half puzzled half amused, but the look in her eyes was speaking for her in a language only I was able to understand.

– You really didn’t have to do that, Robert-

– I know I didn’t have to – I interrupted her-. I needed to.

Amara smiled shyly trying so hard not to show me that her cheeks went red but that made her look even cuter. I invited her to grab her things and leave. Outside was cold and it had stopped snowing, the last night of the coldest seasons of the year was coming to its end. We were standing outside the cafe entrance and I saw Amara wasn’t wearing any kind of scarf so I took mine off and wrapped it around her thin neck. She grabbed one of its ends and put it under her nose, smelling it for a couple of seconds.

– If you are looking for perfume, you won’t find one… - I hurried to speak so she wouldn’t feel disappointed.

– Actually, I'm not, but I like how it smells.

– ¿And how does it smells like? – I asked intrigued by her sharp sense of smell.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if she was filling her lungs with a scent I couldn’t figure out what it was yet and, breathing out slowly, she said:

– It smells like wet dirt…  

To be continued...

[lolabean1998]

Avengers Fanfic - 3rd Super Soldier (Part 5)

"Hey doll, how are you feeling?" Bucky soothed, poking his head round the door to your room, sending you a sympathetic smile when he saw you slowly and stifly get back into bed.

"Like i stole a pizza slice from the Hulk!" You replied with a sore throat, no matter how bad things got you refused to let it take your sense of humour.

"If it makes you feel any better you're still the best looking person on the planet." Bucky smiled sitting beside you, watching as the broken bones in your hands realigned themselves, speedy healing was great, but creepy  to watch.

"And you are either a really good liar or have shit eyesight." You retorted with a painful chuckle, patting the pillow next to you, indicating for him to lay next to you. "I need warming up and you're a freaking human radiator!" You groaned snuggling under the duvet.

"I'll have you know my eyesight matches that of an Eagle!" Bucky scoffed climbing into bed wrapping his flesh arm around your shivering shoulders. The icy temperature of your skin melting under the radiating heat of his.

"I don't know what kind of bird you were testing this theory again but that bird is Blind."You mumbled, snuggling up to him and resting your head on his muscle bound chest. "Now Shush, i need sleep."

"I take it I'm sleeping here tonight then." Bucky replied with a chuckle, kissing your forehead and pulling the duvet over your frozen shoulders.

"Was that not obvious?" You questioned sarcastically, a warm glow slowly spreading throughout your body making you smile against Buckys chest. The two of you slept soundly through the night and into the late morning.

"This is going viral!" Sam whispered loudly to Nat and Tony, the trio were stood by the door watching as Sam took whipped out his phone taking a picture of the pair of you sleeping.

"If that photo is still on your phone by the time i get up, I'm turning it into phone confetti!" You grumbled turning to face the mortified trio with a sleepy grin on your face.

"Jesus Y/N, that's some serious bed hair you've got there. Next time tell Bucky not to be so rough, the hair's a big give away!" Tony mocked, staring at the giant birds nest on your head.

"What makes you think it was me that was rough?" Bucky grumbled, pulling you closer. He  wasn't ready to get up just yet.

"Yeah Tony, sexist much." Nat teased, giving him a playful shove in the shoulder as she spoke. Just as you were about to join in with the playful banter you were interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y who had an important announcement.

"Excuse me, but your presence is requested in the training room." Her voice echoing through the room.

"I hate him already." You groaned, moving to sit up before Bucky's arm wrestled you back under the covers making the trio roll their eyes at the two of you before heading off to the training room. "Bucky come on, we have to get up." You pleaded, still trapped under his muscle bound arms.

"I don't wanna go. Let's just stay here." He moaned, wrapping arm around your waist more and pulling you even closer. There was no use in trying to free yourself, there was no way you could beat his metal arm in a contest of strength, you were going to have to think carefully about your escape.

"You're just scared I'm going to beat you!" You claimed confidently, curling your lips into a smug grin, his arm released its death grip almost immediately.

After a quick change of clothes, you headed up to the training room scowling at Bucky when he beat you to it. The team gathered round Steve and Tony, listening eagerly to the weeks training they had planned. Whilst Peter and the other frequent flyers were at the Avengers headquarters Tony and Steve thought it a good idea to spend the week training, practising and perfecting strategies and fighting skills. In other words, music to your ears. You had been desperate to battle the rest of the team, it helped you get a hold on the kind of person they were.

"Can me and Y/N spar together? Please Mr Stark!" Peter begged, his bright, enthusiastic personality radiating through his adorably innocent smile. You laughed as you watched Tony desperately try to fight against the power of the kids pleading puppy eyes, before he inevitably gave in.

"Fine but take it easy, she's still supposed to be resting ok kid?" Tony cautioned before patting the eager kids shoulder as he bounced past him towards the matts in the middle of the arena.

"Hey Spidey, you take it easy on me and your ass is toast! I don't care what the super suit says." You call to Peter jogging to catch him up. "So, you ready to get your ass handed to ya?" You teased moving into position on the mats, catching a glimpse of the crowd that had taken seat by the mat, ready to watch the show.

"Are you?" Peter retorted confidently, an excited grin spreading across his face as he waited for you to make your move. Usually you didn't make the first move but you could see the kid was feeling a little nervous so you thought it best to distract him with a lightening fast leg sweep and blow to his lower abdomen. He missed the leg sweep but caught your fist just in time to soften the blow, using his grip on your wrist and his full body weight he threw himself backwards, throwing you over his head using his foot to guide you over as you went. However, you had seen this kind of move before and were able to land solidly on your feet like a cat and without a moments hesitation you swung your legs up and around the torso of the skinny boy slamming him down hard on the mat. Before you had a chance to move him into a full body arm lock he managed to slip through your grasp, slipping from underneath you and locking your hands in a particularly strong spiderweb behind your back. Looks like I'm finishing this with my hands behind my back, Fuck! You thought as your attempts to break free from you shackles failed time and time again. You and peter sparred for a while and even though your hands had been deemed useless you were still putting up quite a fight and you had to admit, the kid had skill. It was raw and untamed but it was there.

"You ready to give up yet kid?" You teased as you danced around him, grinning at the exhaustion creeping into his eyes, he shook his head with determination. This was the reaction you had been hoping for, with a wicked grin you nodded before leaping forwards wrapping your ankles around the kids neck bringing him crashing to the mat as you landed perfectly back on the balls of your feet. Watching as Peter lay sprawled out across the mat, his chest rising and falling with each exhausted breath.

"Ok, I'm dead!" He panted, lying lifelessly on the sweat splattered mat, "I'll just stay here i think." You smiled at the tired grin on his face, even though he had lost he was still beaming about being the first to fight against you.

"You did good kid, I'll admit there were a few moments where you nearly had me there. With the right training you'll soon be kicking everyone's ass." You enthused, the pride in his face growing with every word. "Now can someone please get this shit off me, my hands have gone numb!" You whined with a pathetic chuckle, heaving a sigh of relief when Bruce wandered across the matt holding a small pen knife and cutting you lose before helping Peter to his feet.

"Well i think it's safe to say, Banners out of the game until we can find a hulk friendly stadium. Who's next Cap?" Tony asked, giving Peter a subtle wink of pride as he made his way to the small pile of mats behind them. Steve matched you up with a few of his strongest Avengers, giving every one a good laugh when Thors lightening didn't have an effect on you. After so many rounds of electric shock therapy and tazings, matched with your speedy healing, you build up a tolerance to it. Using his shock to your advantage you quickly locked his arms behind his back, slamming his chest to the floor in victory.

"Ok Bucky, you're up." Steve sighed after tapping out before he lost conciousness. "And Buck, you better kick this punks ass." Steve groaned pointing at you with a very stiff and sore arm.

"Steve! Language!" You gasped heavily, clutching your chest mockingly. Grinning when he sighed heavily, giving Nat an annoyed glare when she smiled innocently at him failing miserably at masking her snorting giggles.

"Will you ever let this go?" He asked taking his seat behind the giggling red head, crossing his fingers for Bucky. If anyone could beat her, he could.

"If she does. I promise I won't, Capsicle!" You promised sending him a bright, happy smile as you skipped with glee watching Bucky begrudgingly make his way up to the mat. "You ready snowflake?" The excitement in your voice was unmistakable.

"I really don't want to do this." Bucky sighed, his body was slumped and withdrawn. He was desperately hoping and praying that you'd change your mind, he didn't want to fight you at all.

"What's the matter? Afraid you're going to lose?" You mocked, brushing your lips gently past his ear as you spoke, your hand resting on his shoulder to aid your balance as you stood on your tip toes. A playfully seductive small forming on your mildly sweaty faces you slowly dragged your finger tips down his arm lacing them through his fingers for just a split second before spinning on your toes and striding away.  

"On the contrary, I don't want to hurt your ego when i kick your punk ass!" Bucky stated raising his eyebrows in surprise at your confidence.

"That's highly unlikely, i was trained by the best." You retorted sounding very matter-of-fact. You couldn't remember who exactly trained you, where you were or even doing the training but what you did know was that the who trained you was the best of the best.

"Can you two stop flirting and get on with it, some of us are growing old here." Steve shouted sarcastically, rolling his eyes at you.

"Some of us are old." Tony quipped, attracting the unamused glares from both Bucky and Steve. You took this momentary distraction to your advantage, throwing a powerful, full body kick to the back of his knee, sending him crashing down on it. Just as his knee touched the ground you slammed your foot between his shoulder blades hoping to send him face first to the mats, but he had seen this move before and managed to manipulate his body into rolling instead of crashing. His sudden escape from and early defeat threw you for a second, that move usually worked like a charm, but no matter you had plenty more up your sleeve.

"Nice move old man, i didn't think you had it in you." You complimented wiping the sweat and hair on your forehead back into your hairline.

"It's not the first time I've seen it." He smirked, circling you as his predatory instincts kicked in. You watched him carefully tracking his movements and body language, dodging a fleshy fist as it cut throw the air towards you, ducking just in time to miss the metal arm hurtling towards you from your blind spot. A quick tuck and roll had you straightening up behind him, not waiting for him to clock your move you launched onto his back, locking your arms skilfully around his neck and squeezing with all your might. But your strength was no match for his metal arm, he tore you from his throat before you had a chance to fully settle into position, flinging you over his head in one smooth swoop. You landed heavy on your feet, spinning in mid air so you landed facing him. You knew better than to turn your back on your opponent. Launching a high kick to his face you set into motion a battle of mixed martial arts, arms and legs flying in all directions as you struck, dodged, swept and blocked. It was a fight scene like no other, both opponents equally as skilled and determined. Neither opponents realising what was blatantly obvious to those observing, they had trained together before.

"Does she know Barnes was her H.Y.D.R.A training partner?" Nat whispered rhetorically to her best friend Clint, neither of them able to peel their eyes from the fight unfolding in front of them.

"Better yet, does he?" Clint replied, the same tone in his voice as was in hers. They watched as you quickly went for a change of pace throwing your hip to the ground and skidding between Bucky's legs. Leaping to grab his shoulder from behind, before swinging yourself under his arm and up to sit on his shoulder your legs locking instinctively under his flesh arm. Heaving yourself and him to the ground, swinging him over yourself as your back crashed against the now very slippery mats. The move was smooth and effortless to you, having practised so much in the past. You relied solely on the memory in your muscles, allowing them to guide skilfully throw each and every move. However just as Bucky's back was supposed to collide with mats he somehow pulled his feet underneath him, landing firmly and sky rocketing you into the air before catching you bridal style.

"Smooth, you've got moves i'll give you that, one can only hope your this good in the bedroom too." Your flirty comment and seductive tone caught him off guard, causing him to choke on his own breath. This gave you the break you needed to swing yourself onto his back locking both arms beneath your legs as you went, your arms locking around his throat as you had in your last attempt. But this time was different, you had learnt from your mistake, locking his arms disabled his ability to pull you off like last and just to be absolutely certain, you gave his ribs a sharp squeeze knocking the wind out of his lungs and sending his diaphragm into a momentary spasm. The sudden loss of air had him dropping to his knees and the added pressure placed in the right places he was gasping for air, unable to think straight he was trapped in your cobra grip. With a final gasping attempt for air his body dropped, the only thing stopping him from crashing to the mats were your legs, now unlocked from his rib cage they carefully guided his limp body down. With a smug grin you released him from you grip, standing to take an unnecessarily fancy bow to the crowd. The team gave a loud applaud, Nat and Wanda rushing up to grab an arm each holding them high in the air making you laugh.

"We have a WINNER!" The two women cheered before smothering you in hugs, only releasing you when they heard the wheezing chokes and splutters from the man on the floor.

"I'll get you for that comment punk." He croaked, rubbing his sore throat and ribs after straightening up. You grinned cheerfully, jogging merrily over to him throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him gently into a hug kissing his cheek as he lent over to return the embrace. "This isn't over... dwarf." He couldn't resist the temptation to make a joke about the height difference between the two of you. You chuckled shoving his chest playfully as you made your way to the showers, leaving the rest of the team to follow in tow.

"Hey, watch it bean pole. This Dwarf will kick your ass any day of the week. Just remind me which side your hip replacement is on, I'd hate for you to show your age." You quipped, shooting an exaggerated sympathy look his way. Completely unaware of how little distance there was between his age and yours. He chuckled at your quick wit, ruffling your hair as you arrived at the gym showers.

"Need a hand?" He offered leaning against the door as he spoke, his eyes scanning over your sweaty figure, his bottom lip held between his sparkling pearly white. You couldn't but giggle at his smouldering look, giving him a playful shove knocking him from his spot leaning on the door frame.

"You know what, that's not a bad idea actually," You agreed staring deep into his eyes, your hands slowly moving across his chest to his shoulders. Though his body language remained the same, his eyes betrayed him as your words sent a quick flash of panic through them. He hadn't expected you to react like this. Just as your were moving your body closer to him you quickly snapped your head round to Nat, "Hey Nat, you mind giving me a hand in the shower." You called dropping your hands from Bucky's shoulders and taking a subtle step back turning to face the red head, who had stopped beside you smiling at the mischievous glint in your eyes, her arm possessively draped over your shoulders.

"How about two?" She flirted, her voice soft and seductive sending Bucky a cheeky wink before disappearing into the shower room with you, leaving Bucky to stare dumbfounded after you both.

"She gets you every time Buck!" Steve chuckled, clapping his hands down on his friends shoulder pulling away from the door frame he was still leaning on and guiding him to the male shower room.

"She's been here awake, for less then 3 days and she's already hooked Bucky, beaten the crap out of almost the whole team and broken almost all the punching bags!" Sam listed, pulling off his sweaty clothes before jumping in a nearby shower cubicle.

"Yeah but she also pulled the team together for a proper full family meal, cheered Bucky up and is helping us improve and modify our combat skills and tactics." Steve interjected, he knew it was all in good humour but he still felt the need to defend you.

"And she does not have me hooked!" Bucky jumped in, it had taken a moment for him to register what Sam had said. The room quickly filled with steam as all the showers were now occupied, they took their time to distracted by their conversation about the new comer to worry about cleaning.

"Barnes she's not just got you hooked, she has you hook line and sinker!" Tony stated, his usually humorous tone growing stronger as he mocked his fellow Avenger. Though they had agreed upon a truce and for the most part got along fine, there were still the occasional fall outs and neither one fully trusted the other.

"That's not what's happening, we're just having a bit of playful banter, that’s all." Bucky snorted shaking his head in denial, laughing as a memory of his childhood with you and Steve popped up. "Hey Steve, you remember the time she got us into that really exclusive club?"

"Yeah, she somehow managed to talk the security into letting us in and then used her magical smile to get us free drinks. I miss those days, i miss her crazy shenanigans." Steve reminisced, his voice filling with sadness as he finished.

"I miss her smile, the smile that made the sun look dull and got her out of anything no matter how much trouble she was in." Bucky sighed.

"And she got in a lot of trouble." Steve continued, laughing as images of you and your crazy antics flashed through his mind.

"I'm going to kill her!" Bucky growled, his tone switching completely, it was no longer nostalgic and sweet it had taken a new form of annoyed anger. "Its not even been a week, Steve! She couldn't even wait a week!" His sudden change of attitude had everyones curiousity peeked, the annoyed ex-assassin turned off the water to his shower and stepped out, a large white towel wrapped securely around his waist. The rest of the group quickly followed, desperate to see what had caused the sudden flipin attitude.

"Oh guys, you've got to see this!" Peter gasped heavily, gripping tightly to what little control he had over the raging laughter fighting its way to the surface. With in seconds all the shower cubicles emptied and Bucky found himself surrounded by beaming faces all staring at one thing, Bucky's hair.

"Oh Bucky." Tony practically sang, his cheek resting in his hand as he tilted his head admiring Bucky's new hair. "Pink is soo your colour." The sarcasm in his voice swallowing the room as he did his best camp voice.

"I see somethings haven't changed, i guess this is just hard wired into her." Steve managed before bursting into roaring laughter causing a ripple effect as everyone almost instantly lost what ever control they had manged to hold onto. After several minutes of non stop hysterics, the group managed to regain some control over their roaring amusement.

"Wait what makes you so sure its her?" Rhodes asked, still staring at the neon pink mop of hair on Buckys head.

"Because no one else would try pranking the Winter Soldier so soon after his arrival and she has no sense of self preservation." Steve explained, throwing on a pair of faded jeans and a grey t-shirt. "And besides, Bucky's her favourite target." He completed leaving the shower room.

Masterlist

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

300 followers prompt-a-thon: ObiYuki; Nightmares

Set up with the same backstory as An Economy of Suffering. Same warnings apply. Check the tags on the original if reading from a reblog.

Follows Cat in the Cradle. 

Three days.

Three days since they came. Three more they will stay.

Three days since one of those that he escaped had laid an enchantment on him, had stolen his mind, had pulled the veil from his eyes and shown him what he was. What he always had been. What he will always be.

~ ~ ~

“Obi, you need to put those away.”

His head snaps up, the wooden dowels meticulously stacked atop one another collapsing from their structure to scatter all over the empty work station. The sound goes straight through him. Hands frozen mid-air, he fixates on a single one of them as it rolls across the table, clattering loudly on stone floor. He can feel it echo all the way through his fingertips.

“Aw, Miss.” His straightens, letting his lips curl lazy and slow. “I worked hard on that.”

Her lips thin worryingly, but she turns away. “Sorry.” Her back is so straight, so prim as she packs away dried plants into little wooden boxes. “But you need to go to bed.”

He’s careful to control his breath, to let it slip out of him in measured counts rather than one shuddering gasp. Without a word, he turns back, and scoops all of the dowels up at once, then stares.

Which bin did this belong to again?

~ ~ ~

Three days. Three days since he woke with a bone deep satisfaction. Rested. Warm. Adored.

Three days since he felt like he belonged in the boundary of his own skin.

~ ~ ~

“Obi.” Her voice is clipped, sending him into a flinch. The wooden dowels clatter to the floor and he scrambles to pick them up. He’s only rescued half of them when she’s reached his side, hand stretching out and then pausing midair between them. He moves faster.

When he finishes, the smile he has painted on his face falters. Her eyes are glassy and red. “Miss…”

She blinks, whetting her lips. “I’ll finish up here.” Her voice has gone soft, too soft. “Go to your room. Rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he protests.

She takes the dowels from him carefully, not touching his skin. “I told Ryuu back in Wistal that you always tell the truth. Don’t make me a liar.”

The words lands like a blow, and he’s so raw, so on the edge, it takes everything he has to scurry out from beneath her presence. “I can’t leave you alone while the delegation is here. Lord Makiri’s orders.”

She puffs out her cheeks, and the last thing he wants to do is remind her of them, but protecting her is his job. Not the other way around. “If I go back with you, do you promise to go to bed?”

Obi’s shoulders fall. “I’ll even get under the covers and lay my head on my pillow.”

Some of that worry loses hold when her face softens in a smile, hand raised between them. “Promise.”

He swallows, throat tight, and wraps his pinky around hers. “Thousand needles in my eye.”

~ ~ ~

The sweetness didn’t stay for long. It never did. The space between sleep and thought has always been far too short. Even shorter when awareness landed on him that his face was pressed into her lap. That her- that her hands were on him.

~ ~ ~

He doesn’t want to sleep. He doesn’t mean to.

So he won’t.

Obi folds down the bedding, pulling the tight corners free from the edges of the mattress and strips off his shirt.

But he won’t make himself a liar. Not to his Miss. Not to little Ryuu. Not to anyone in this city of misfits that sought fit to place their trust in him.

So he lays down between sheet and blanket, places his head upon his pillow, and the relief is so palpable that his head spins. If only he could just keep his eyes open a little longer, he can get up. Move. Keep going without breaking his word.

~ ~ ~

It’s just the one, but it is heavy with sleep, curling itself over his shoulder, thumb absently tracing circles into his bicep. And it hurts. It hurts that he longs for something so much that it gives him pain. It hurts that even his Miss’s touch makes his heart hiss and spit, angry and vicious and scared.

~ ~ ~

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy sleep. On the contrary, those rare moments that he manages more than a few scattered hours at a time, he becomes intimately acquainted with what it means to have peace.

The problem is-

The problem is…

Miss can always tell. She never asks, but her eyes follow him, her worry eating away at them both. One of these days his tongue was going to fly loose and bury her in his words. Tell her everything. And she wouldn’t understand what it meant to be scared to close his eyes. Who would be upset to relive memories filled with sunshine and flowers; the sound and smell of stew bubbling over in the hearth; bread in the oven; the safety of being wrapped thrice over in soft and worn blankets?

In those dreams he’s small, so small, pressed tightly between two big bodies that playfully hold him when he squirms, that whisper that they love him, that tickle his face with kisses and fill his ears with their steady heartbeats.

And then he wakes up, biting into the flesh of his palm as he relearns their absence all over again.

Those are the ones that make him never want to sleep again, that make him curse his too perfect memory and whatever god deemed it fit to give it to him. Those are the ones that bring him to the door that splits their rooms in half, shaking and needful, to bow and rest his head against solid wood until the sunlight comes and the sound of life on the other side chases the ghosts away.

He doesn’t know how to explain what happens next if he lingers in sleep too long. How he prayed for them, wished that they would come find him, wished that they would spirit him away. He doesn’t know how to explain that every time the door to his room opened or the flap of his tent pulled back, his heart had jumped, hoping it was them.

It was never them.

It was always others that came.

And they never took him home.

~ ~ ~

He can feel the magic take hold, feel the witch’s tongue wrap around his name. It’s been so long since he found his freedom and just in the space of a breath, she’s dragging him into submission. Vaguely, he can hear Miss screaming. Vaguely, he can hear her reply, reminding him he’s someone’s pet.

“It helps you see who you truly are.”

~ ~ ~

Obi claws to consciousness, gasping. In the pitch blackness of night, his heart hammering in his skull, he can see nothing. But the bed is too hard beneath him and the room too cold. When he breathes in, there is no scent of sticky perfume, only the sharpness of ice and snow. Lyrias’s unforgiving chill burns his lungs and he takes refuge in the sting.

The dream slips away before it can be fully grasped, not meant to be remembered, only to remind, and there is some kindness in that.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice lost to the dark. He forgot to light his burner, thinking he could conquer sleep, and the room is freezing.

But his skin crawls like maggots are wriggling underneath the surface, scalp tingling as if every hair was a wire pulled tight to be plucked. Rubbing his face, blunt nails digging pink welts to flesh, Obi briefly wonders if Shikito could be summoned so he can disappear into the bath houses for a short time. This late at night, he could sit under the stream that feeds the pool until his skin sloughs off and no one would stop him.

There’s a knock at the door.

He starts, the sound knocking him out of his brain and back into his body. Blinking, chest still heaving, lungs still aching, Obi hears the soft murmured echoing of his name, and he remembers how he is meant to obey. Grabbing a shirt from the back of his chair, he mops the sweat off of his face before using it to hide the rest of him.

The warmth hits him, almost knocking him over - he did not forget to light her burner - and Miss stands on her side, the pristine white of her nightgown glowing like moonlight. She smiles at him when he opens the door, hands tucked behind her back. Her eyes are tight with concern, though, searching his face.

Shame churns in his stomach.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She says, a blatant lie. Her face is still puffy, creases of her eyes still matted with slumber.

He smiles his best smile. “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

She laughs. It is… good to hear it. “I was thinking about going for a walk.”

His brows raise towards his hairline and he glances towards her window. There are no stars, only thick and heavy clumps of snow floating towards the earth. “It’s late.”

“Not so much.”

He grants her a skeptical look.

“I suppose I could go by myself if you wanted to stay here,” she suggests.

His lips purse, annoyed, and she smiles brightly, rocking back and forth on her bare feet. Miss has been spending far, far too much time with Suzu.

He scrubs his face with his hand. “Let me change into something warmer.”

~ ~ ~

The shock of snowflakes dusting his lashes and kissing her clothes is pleasant – even more pleasant when she giggles at him when he wriggles his nose after one lands on it – but even this late at night, the scholar’s city is loud. Alcohol, sweet and fermented, is heavy in the air and without his meaning to, he steers them away from the bars and popular food vendors. A drunken party would not meet his Lordships definition of keeping the both of them ‘out of sight.’

She doesn’t seem to mind, though. Miss just yawns, a long and wide mouthed kittens yawn, and smiles dazedly at the road ahead.

His heart softens.

“Oh, Obi! The tents are back up!”

His gaze follow hers, the many shades of blue and purple and red glowing from within their peaked tops. Out of the corner of his eyes, hers are glazed and he wonders, just for a brief sting, if she is lost in memory.

She doesn’t stay there long. Miss glances up at him, lip pulled between her teeth, and tugs at his sleeve – still so careful of touching skin – before finding the vender and counting her coin. When the old man places the timer in her hand with a skeptical look in his direction, he finally finds it in his voice to protest.

“Miss,” he begins, hesitating between the rows. “I don’t-”

“I thought we could take a break,” she complains, no real bite to the words. “We’ve been walking through the snow for over an hour and my toes are numb.”

“Oh.” Had it been that long? He hadn’t noticed.

The inside the tent is lovely – made to look like lush interior of a Samese pleasure tent. Covered in ornately embroidered pillows with little bits of mirror sewn into them; colorful carpets protecting the renters from the ground; lanterns filled with shards of colored glass reflect different shades against the interior. And even though he cannot remember the dream that woke him, Obi’s stomach rolls.

“Pretty,” he says, his tongue working the word like wet sand.

“You looked… a little lost.” She’s still tugging on his sleeve, and she brings him all the way down to the plush ground. “I thought that this might be better?”

His eyes feel as wide and round as hers. “I wasn’t-” A simple glance from her reminds him of his promise and he bites his tongue. “This is… nice. Quiet.”

“Obi,” she doesn’t look at him, but her cheeks are flushed. “You know I love you, right?”

His heart reaches for his throat. He swallows it down. “Yes, Miss.”

“You know you can… talk to me? About anything?”

He doesn’t want to talk about anything. “There’s not much to talk about.”

She pinches his sleeve between her fingers. “It was the drug, wasn’t it? Or- or maybe it’s them?“ Her brain is rushing too fast, searching for a cause, and her words cannot keep up with it. It’s painful to watch her stumble over them. “You- you haven’t been… well… and I- I just want to know what you need from me.”

He huffs a toneless laugh. She deserves to know, but she deserves his honesty more. “I wonder.”

Miss pauses, pulling her lips between her teeth. “Would it be easier if I went back to not touching you?”

He stares at her for so long, so lost for words, that he sees the very moment resignation and determination both settle on her heart.

She nods. “Okay.”

“Wait.” He reaches out to her, but falls short of touching her arm. “You don’t- I haven’t…” He huffs, irritated at the words he cannot find. “We could try.”

“Try?” Miss hesitates. “Try what?”

“It depends,” he shrugs, wiping his palms against his thighs. “What would my Mistress like?”

“We-” she squirms, peaking up at him shyly. “We’ve never kissed, Obi.”

Obi presses his open palms to his knees to keep them from jostling and smiles brightly at her. He wanted- he wanted so much. And she wanted so little. It wasn’t fair how greedy he was. She had given up kingdoms, and here he was, a simple knight with no holdings about to lose his dinner at the thought of a single chaste kiss.

He looks at her from under hooded lids and lets his voice drop. “Are you going to kiss me, Miss?”

Her eyelashes flutter, pink blooming across her cheeks sweetly, and then she is shifting onto her knees in front of him, breath hitched in anticipation. “Is that… okay? Is that what you want?”

It’s been years since he’s played this game. “Only as much as my Mistress does.”

His words seem to hurt her. “Call me by my name first.”

“Shirayuki.” His heart flops like a dying fish in the cavern of his chest. “Are you going to kiss me?”

She gives him more than enough time to prepare for it, so when she leans forward, touching her mouth to his, he doesn’t flinch.

Her lips are soft, so soft against his - more sweet exploration than a request for more - but it’s a battle with his memory, the bile threatening at the back of his throat at the remembrance of the presses of other mouths. Other tongues. Other-

He forces it down. It’s just muscle memory, that’s all. He can train it out of him the same way he trained himself how to dodge, how to fight, how to smile when he wanted to do anything but. 

He tilts his mouth over her firmly, trying to blot it out.

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, encouraging, and he nearly sags in relief. Good. He’s doing… a good job.

Miss places her hands on his chest and pulls back.

“Obi,” she breathes, fingers lacing through the winkles and buttons of his coat and- his lungs are too tight. He can’t get enough air. “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

He nods his head, trying to close the distance between them and she pulls back again. A sort of desperation, insanity even, fills him. He needs to stop. He needs to let her know that this isn’t all he has to show, that this is all he has to please her. This can’t be the only chance he’ll ever get to show her that she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to kiss.

“Obi.” She places her hand over his mouth and when he looks up into her eyes- “Don’t push yourself.”

Somewhere in his chest, what was left of his heart crumbles to dust.

“Ah Miss.” It strikes him all at once, the realization that makes his eyes sting and turns his laugh bitter. “I’m so sorry. I think they broke me.”

“No, no,” she whispers, fierce. “It’s my fault. If we’re going too fast-”

He blinks rapidly, looking towards the canopy and its little embroidered animals in black and red. “It is such a lovely night. It’s a shame I woke you.”

She’s silent after that, settling down next to him, and the sand continues to count each second. When it runs out, this brief little dream of his will be over. He can’t expect her to stay, not when he can’t bring himself to give so little. He only hopes- he only hopes that she will let him sit by her side just a little longer, just like Master did.

Delicate, cool fingers slide over the heel of his palm. He looks down, startled, and her fingers slip between his.

“This?” Her grip is loose. A baby could escape it. “Is this okay?”

His skin feels tight, it crawls. But not as much as it feels… good. To have someone hold him. Even in such a small way.

It’s all he had ever wanted, all these years later.

Without a word, his fingers press tightly to hers, and she breathes out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t want to ask, but he has to. “It is enough?”

Miss stares up at him, searching. “You’ve always been enough.”

His smile feels brittle on his own lips.

“Obi.” This time, his voice doesn’t flinch at the sound of his name, even though the same steel rests in her voice as just a few hours ago. “You’ve waited for me. I’ll wait for you, too.”

His face goes numb, but for a minute, just for one, he thinks that everything might be alright.