#completely in the dark. i have no idea whats happening. i am scared.

[pickinglilahs]

Okay, let's unpack this response here

TL;DR: 'weak and surface' level is exactly how I would describe prevs "obliteration". I'm not convinced THEY read the books. Or maybe they're just another TERF, considering that's how it reads. I completely disagree with Harry naming his kid after Snape. The ONLY explanation I can think for it is that JKR has no idea what love is (which is also cannon, as far as I'm concerned)

First: idk what book this person read, but Snape's obsession with Lily was creepy to the extreme. That their friendship started by him all but stalking her and Petunia should have been red flag #1. I mean, sure, he was a traumatized kid without friends, but that doesn't absolve him of his continued obsession. He literally stood outside the Gryffindor common room, refusing to leave, until she came out to talk.

And yeah, he did switch sides out of guilt. But he canonically didn't give a damn about Harry. If he was actually trying to protect the kid, he would have done more than bully and abuse (occlumency lessons anyone?) the kid. Teaching at Hogwarts was never about redemption. It was about staying out of Azkaban. (And Dumbledore's manipulation, but he's a whole 'nother can of worms)

Second: the books actually say that Snape was 'up to his nose in the dark arts'. He was an active participant. He didn't just 'hang out' with to-be-DE, he WAS one. He joined up of his own free will. He became Voldemort's RIGHT HAND. He didn't regret calling someone a mudbl***. He regretted that it was Lily.

And Snape CANONICALLY attacked the marauders just as much as they went after him. Just because they went after him first in that ONE memory, doesn't mean he didn't instigate too.

And let's talk about the werewolf incident for a minute because i am sick and tired of Snape Apologists using this as an excuse. That was NOT planned. That was a lapse of judgement on Sirius' part alone (yeah, fucked to hell and he is fully responsible for that). At the same time though, NO ONE MADE HIM GO. Snape was given a vague instruction and he was so focused on 'getting back' at the marauders that he put HIMSELF in danger. That is just as much on him as it is on Sirius.

Then the sexual assault? This is another common thing I see and it took me forever to figure out what it was even referring to. The pantsing? You cannot tell me he was the only one that happened to. If the levitating spell was really as popular as it's stated, this incident wasn't special. I'm willing to bet Snape did it to others too.

Third: Lupin not taking the wolfsbane. Yes, serious lapse in judgement. He also just saw Peter and Sirius on the map. The argument of it being criminal and a ticking time bomb is honestly werewolf prejudice and exactly why Remus has such a hard time finding a job in the first place. Way to go. You've discovered discrimination.

Fourth: Get McGonagall's name out of your fucking mouth. She is CANONICALLY shown NOT showing prejudice and treating EVERYONE by the same standards. And, did you forget that 'Moody' here was actually a death eater in disguise? No duh he's using cruel and unusual punishments??? Full of abusive teachers my ass.

Fifth: What do you mean the kids weren't scared for life? I do believe those CHILDREN will carry that trauma with them for the rest of their lives. Saying that it didn't break them is cruel and completely dismisses the VERY REAL pain and suffering that they went through. They are real heroes because they OVERCAME their trials. Not all of us out here in the real world are so lucky.

Lastly: yes, comparing CHILDREN who DID see the error of their ways to an ADULT who had to be CONNED into doing the right thing is laughable.

And saying Regulus accomplished nothing? Disgraceful. Of course it took a catalyst for him to change his ways thats how redemption arcs work.

If you made it this far, I hope you have a good day. Believe whatever you want, obvy I'm not going to change anyone's opinion. You can't MAKE a person understand. Still, it's nice to rant and remind myself how nice it is that I live in my own little corner of the fandom where I don't have to see this bullshit on my dash

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[sculmi]

euguh

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[igotanidea]

I am Robin : Damian Wayne x reader (pt 1)

Summary: Damian x fem!s/o, who has no idea he's Robin. And who is scared of Robin. And who one day happens to meet Robin...

***

They weren’t living together, and definitely not in a leaving toothbrushes at each other’s place way. But their relationship wasn't casual either. After almost a year together, given Damian’s character traits, it could never be casual.

But Y/N wasn’t the type to rush him into anything and definitely not nagging to start sharing space. It was all right if he didn’t want to stay the night too. He was committed to his family and that was okay. Considering the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne himself, the Gotham’s persona, who tended to act a little eccentric, it was completely understandable that Damian wanted to check on him more often than not.

Who knew what kind of crazy idea could possibly enter the bored mind of a rich man.

It truly was no one’s wish to find some scandalous news from the first pages of the magazines.

So yes, she was full aboard on the idea of Damian’s checking on his father and his family.

Who seemed a little weird from the very beginning either way. The first time she met them all his siblings were nice, even awfully so, but she had this crazy feeling of being watched like a prey.

If only she knew why.

But yes, it was okay, because at least she wasn’t in a relationship with Mollycoddle, who demanded care and wanted to be treated with kids’ gloves.

But sometimes, only sometimes, she was wondering if it would be like that forever.

That she would have to sleep in the bed alone, wishing for him next to her.

That she would be forced to deal with her nightmares and loneliness and after work tiredness alone.

That almost every time she asked him to stay over he would prevaricate, giving more or less vague answers.

If only she knew why.

***

He was in the middle of patrolling with Batman and the rest of the family when Barbara’s voice came through the comms.

“Robin.”

“Yes? What is it, Oracle?”

“Y/N keeps blowing off your phone.”

Oh.

Obviously Damian did not take his device with him and definitely could not check whether his girlfriend was trying to contact him.

Barbara, on the other hand, was in charge of everyone’s notifications while they were busy during night hours, just to keep up the pretences of the batfam being completely normal citizens.

“Shall I respond?” Babs muttered to the comm, mentally rolling her eyes at the fact Damian was still keeping Y/N in the dark about his other identity. He was treating this girl seriously, it was obvious and even Batman would see reason in ensuring his blood son didn’t blow up a chance at happiness. Even with a civilian. And if not, Barbara would be more than happy to throw Bruce’s own mistakes in the area right at his face. And most likely the other batkids would gladly join her in this quest. Just for funsies. And for Damian obviously.

“Don’t you dare touching my phone, Oracle!” The last thing he needed was his more or less romantic and more or less spicy conversations with Y/N to come into the light!

“Do you want me to read the text to you?”

“Don’t you dare touching-“

“Robin, why can’t you just come forward and tell her?”

“Cause that would be putting a target on her back!”

“You are putting a target on her back by keeping her in the dark!”

“This is not—” Damian tried to argue, but never finished the sentence, realising, somewhere in the half of it, that Babs was actually true. “I don’t know what to do.” He finally settled on a deep sigh.

However, before Oracle could give him any relationship advice, Batman’s voice echoed from another line, calling his accomplices to order and stopping any personal discussions.

***

Meanwhile, Y/N was standing in front of the club, unsuccessfully attempting to reach Damian.

The party she was dragged to was a surprise to one of her work friends, who broke the news about getting married. Some of the girls decided it was a perfect opportunity for unofficial celebration and the party moved from club to club in the entire Gotham district.

It was impossible to not go. Y/N would be called antisocial, unfriendly and stiff the very same night.

But then it was late and cold and dark and she found herself far from her apartment, not sure how to proceed. Obviously, walking alone was a huge mistake, considering the location, but standing like a salt pillar was starting to turn even more stupid, as the lonely and bewildered woman unmoving on an empty street was the easy target for any thug.  

And Damian was not picking up his phone or responding to texts, that started to become more and more desperate as Y/n lowered herself to almost begging for help.

When nothing came in return, with a heavy and a little broken heart she decided to try and get home by herself.

It was better than being a sitting duck and freezing to death.

***

“Robin.” The voice came through the comms again

“What do you want, Nightwing?”

“I got eyes on Y/N.”

“And why do you bore me with such unimportant details?” Damian muttered, not really paying attention to what his brother was saying. The youngest Wayne was simply too focused on his target for the night.

“Um… Robin?”

“I am busy, Nightwing.”

“Damian-“ Dick dared to say Robin’s real name, getting  a bit desperate to get his attention.

“What now?!”

“I got eyes on Y/N!”

“Wh-what? What do you mean you got eyes on Y/N? She’s supposed to be home, safe and tucked under the cover, turning over on the other side while sleeping!”

“Well, she is not. She’s walking the street with someone on her tail, clearly chasing her.”

“What street?!”

“I’m going to take action now-“

“Don’t you dare, Nightwing.” Damian’s cold voice almost bore a hole in Dick’s head through the comms. “Oracle, give me Y/N location. I’ll be the only one taking the action when it comes to her.”

***

She knew she was being followed.

The man wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to it after all.

The heavy clatter of his boots echoed through the entire empty street, in perfect sync with the accelerated beat of her heart.

Headlines from the newspapers from the entire previous year flashed through her mind.

Rape.

Murder.

Assault.

Unexplained disappearance.

Y/n started to curse herself, instinctively reaching for the pepper spray, greedily clutching her fingers on the tiny, yet effective, bottle.

Though before she could actually use it, there was a loud thump behind her and she stopped with shaking hands and eyes closing, already saying goodbye to her life.

The man sure had a gun and that was the sound she heard. She was already dead. And no one will even know. She will bleed on the street, dying alone and in pain in the dark Gotham street, no news about her till the early morning and-

“Y/N.”

She spun around immediately. Whoever was talking, be it the man who was chasing her or someone else, he knew her name.

Robin. Batman’s sidekick.

The street light colours palette Robin.

Robin, the Gotham’s vigilante.

And one of her worst fears.

***

The thug was lying on the ground, blood was everywhere, including Robin’s uniform and she couldn’t make a single movement.

The most natural thing would be to thank him for the rescue and run away before he got too focused on her, reading right through her, seeing everything she did wrong in her entire life and bringing her to justice.

But she could hardly breathe let alone form one coherent sentence.

When he took a step towards her, she took a step back, almost tripping over her own feet, but miraculously finding balance.

He stopped, looking at her with a predatory smile, tilting head, waiting for a moment to strike.

His teeth shone in the dim light of a street lamp, growing, becoming sharper and she could almost imagine them tearing at her throat like a werewolf or some other supernatural creature, causing her pain for all the bad things she did and—

“You’re safe now.”

She blinked a few times, brought back to reality by his voice that was surprisingly soft. Calm, a little cold perhaps, but gentle regardless.

There was no blood, he was not a werewolf, and she was not in danger of being torn to pieces and having her insides dragged through the entire street.

But she was still scared, and not because of the thug, but because of the vigilante himself.

***

“You’re safe now.” Robin said calmly, keeping his distance. From Damian’s perspective under the mask, it was the worst thing he ever had to do in his life. Instead of rushing to her side, taking her in his arms, and giving her comfort and reassurance he had to keep hiding his face in the shadows. Unbeknown to him, Y/N was more than grateful about this fact.

“Uh-huh…” she stuttered, making Damian want to hug her even more. She was so shaken after being chased like this. After being put in danger.

It didn’t cross his mind, that she could be scared of him.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” This was not really a question in his head, but it was important to slowly assure her she was now protected.

“Uh-huh…” she stuttered again, with wide eyes and pale face, that Damian blamed on the aftermath of terrifying events.

“Okay.”

It was hard to not reach for her hand, envelop her in warmth and walk with her to her apartment. Making her her favourite tea and cuddling on the couch (a weakness he would never admit to his family). But he had to keep his mask, literally and figuratively. Therefore, having escorted her to her building and spinning on his heel, he left her alone.

Not for long though.

***

It took him fifteen minutes to change from Robin costume into regular, civilian clothes, almost searching for a phone booth like a freaking Superman, knowing that if Jon knew it, he would never let him live through it.

Meanwhile, he finally got hold of his phone and read through the desperate messages she’s been sending him for the last hour.

“Dami, please come pick me up. I’m at the XX”

“Dami, please…”

“I don’t know why you are not responding, but if I did something to make you mad, I am sorry…”

“Dami, I need you…”

“Please, it’s cold and I’m scared…”

“Dami… 🥺”

Oh no.

As if seeing her scared after dealing with the threat was not enough, now he also got the insight of what she was feeling and thinking while walking home alone.

That he left her.

That he didn’t care.

That she was alone.

And it made him speed the pace of the changing even more.

And causing Robin to make one, teeny-tiny mistake.

***

A knock on the door made her almost jump, settling on pretending she was not at her apartment. Or that she was sleeping – whichever seemed more plausible at 3 am.

“Y/n!”

The voice seemed familiar, but it could have been just the whispers of her stressed mind, combined with a desire for the presence of that one person she so desperately needed.

“Y/N! Open up, it’s me! Damian!”

She whimpered and moved deeper into the corner of the sofa, covering her ears.

He had to change tactics.

“I know where you keep the spare key. But if you don’t open in five, I’ll kick the door without the need to get it!”

An empty threat that could have only been made by him.

Four seconds later the bolt on the door rattled and Y/N stood face to face with Damian, who had absolutely no intention to put his words into action, just getting her to open.

“Y/N.” He sent her the most comforting and reassuring smile he could muster.

“Dami…” she sobbed, diving into his arms. “why weren’t you picking up your phone? I was scared and – and this guy-”

“Hush, dear.” His hands wrapped around her, taking a few steps forward so they were now inside her apartment and not in the hallway. “You’re safe now. I’m here and no one will hurt you.”

“But why weren’t you picking up?” she repeated nuzzling into him, the mix of emotions finally finding a way out in the form of uncontrolled sobs.

“My apologies, beloved. It was never my intention to make you feel abandoned. But I’m here now.”

“Mhm…”

“You’re okay. Shall I make you your tea? It will ease your nerves after being chased on the streets like that.”

“Yes, please…” she whispered and then a thought hit her. “Dami? I- I never told you I was being chased…”

“You know, it was quite evident. It’s Gotham. It’s late and your text was pretty clear-“ His green eyes met hers in a poor attempt to cover up for the obvious fail, trying to fill in the holes in the facts and silence her questions before they even arise.

But it was too late and she was too smart for being played like that.

There was no way Damian could have simply figured out what happened solely from her messages and ragged pieces of information.

His first question, right after comforting her, should have been what happened?

And how the hell did he get into her apartment almost right after she got in?

Right after Robin escorted her here?

“Dami--?” she stuttered with wide eyes, pulling slightly back, causing a little struggle when he tried to keep her in his arms.

Causing a little too much movement.

“Y/N, listen to me, I can—hey, are you all right?”

She was not.

She was not okay, seeing the familiar and well-known domino mask that fell from Damian’s pocket onto the floor in her apartment.

“You- you are—” her stuttering mixed with paleness and terror reflected in her eyes made him travel back to the conversation they had a few months earlier. 

Oh, no…

How could he forget…?

to be continued...

Part 2

[luvzshy]

Hi, how are you? Hope everything is alright 😊

I've been out of work for a few days because I've had no power or signal at home since Friday due to a storm. I took advantage of the fact that I came to work today to check Tumblr.

This power outage gave me an idea (that you don't have to write if you don't feel like it): imagine if Billie is on tour and talks to her girlfriend every night after the show, but one day she can't get in touch, she gets worried and insecure. After a while, her girlfriend calls her and explains that she had no power or signal and that's why she couldn't tell Billie what was happening.

Have a great week!

a/n: hi my love, i am so so soooo sorry i didn’t answer to this before, i have been really busy:( but here u go baby, i hope ur okay, i love u smm!!!💕

Reconnected

Billie sits on the edge of the bed in her hotel room, staring at her phone for what feels like the hundredth time that night. It’s been a long, exhausting show—the kind that leaves her breathless and sore—but usually, the thought of hearing your voice makes it all worth it. She’s tried calling, texting, FaceTiming—anything to reach you. But each time, her attempts end the same way: a ringing tone that eventually goes silent, a voicemail that never changes.

“Hey, it’s me again,” she whispers into the phone, leaving yet another voicemail. “I’m just… I’m worried, okay? Please call me back when you can. I miss you. I love you.”

She hangs up and stares at the screen, hoping that this time it might light up with your name. But minutes turn into hours, and Billie’s mind starts to wander to dark places. What if something happened? What if you’re hurt, scared, alone? Or worse—what if you’re pulling away from her? The thought twists like a knife in her chest, her insecurities bubbling up to the surface.

Her hands tremble as she clutches the phone, biting back the urge to cry. She buries her face in her hands, whispering to herself, “Come on, Y/N… just pick up. Please. I need to know you’re okay.”

Finally, when she feels like she’s on the verge of breaking down completely, her phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with your name. Relief crashes over her, and she nearly fumbles the phone in her haste to answer. “Y/N? Where have you been?” Her voice comes out rushed, thick with all the fear she’s been holding back. “I was so scared—I didn’t know what happened to you.”

On the other end, your voice is warm and apologetic, but it’s the sound she’s been aching to hear. “Baby, I’m so, so sorry. The power went out, and I had no signal. I’ve been trying to reach you, but nothing would go through. I’m so sorry I made you worry.”

Billie’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping the phone tightly as her tears finally spill over. “God, I thought… I thought I lost you or something. I know it’s silly, but I just kept thinking the worst.” She lets out a shaky laugh, trying to collect herself. “I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I should’ve said to you. Like how much I love you, how you’re my whole world… I don’t know what I’d do if—”

You interrupt her with a soft, gentle reassurance. “Hey, hey, baby, I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much. I promise I’ll never leave you like that.”

Billie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, a relieved smile tugging at her lips as she leans back against the headboard. “Just hearing your voice… it’s like I can finally breathe again. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay? I need you safe.”

“I promise, baby. I’ll be extra careful next time,” you say softly, and she can hear the warmth in your voice, the love that mirrors her own. “Now, let’s just stay on the phone for a while, yeah? I don’t want you to feel alone tonight.”

She nods even though you can’t see her, letting herself relax into the comfort of your voice. “Yeah, let’s just stay like this. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me.”

[quitealotofsodapop]

AU idea: Wukong goes into labor with the stone egg WHILE he's fighting Macaque

Not sure which fight you mean honestly, but I assume you meant the "OG" fight back during the Journey days.

I imagine this all occurs likely in a version of the Jttw Stone Egged au where Macaque joins the gang after he found out.

Wukong and Macaque are fighting neck and neck when Macaque finally stops to listen to Wukong's shouts;

Wukong, in tears: "Macaque please! Don't make me do this! I'm with-" Macaque: "What's that weird noise??" Wukong: "Huh?" Macaque: "It sorta sounds like a... bag of water? With a heartbeat inside of- OHHHH!" Macaque: (*points at Wukong's pants*) Wukong: (*looks down and sees that his water has broken*) Both monkeys: (*start screaming!*)

Macaque drops his glamour immediately to tend to his mate.

Macaque: "I have so many questions! Who, why, and how long?!" Wukong, has Macaque's hand in a death-grip: "You, Mountain, 500 years." Macaque, mental gears turning: "Huh!?! How did- ohhh wait... self-spawning. If I had kept coming and fed you peaches you wouldn't have-" Wukong: "Yeah!" Macaque: "And since I wa- Am your mate the kid would be-" Wukong: "YEAH." Macaque, trying to lighten the mood: "Do I get visitation rights?" Wukong, voice deepening: "DON'T PUSH IT, BUD!"

Eventually the Pilgrims and Guanyin catch up (the Bodhisattva heard that water break from across the sea), and see the Six Eared Macaque has completely dropped his Monkey King glamour and is trying his best to keep the real Sun Wukong's breathing steady.

Guanyin quickly gets to work; bringing Wukong to somewhere nice and warm and dry to have the baby. They suggest that the reappearance of the other parent (i.e Macaque) caused the Egg to prematurely decide to make itself known.

Bonus if this is the first time certain Pilgrims (besides a wise dragon-dragon) heard of such a thing XD

Ao Lie, excited: "It's already happening!? Congratulations!!" Wukong: "Thanks Lie, but I'd prefer to get the kid out before you all start thanking me." Zhu Bajie, oblivious: "Wait what kid!? They heck is everyone talking about?!" Tripitaka: (*hyperventilating into his hat like it's a paper bag*) Sha Wujing: "I suppose well wishes are in order! Did Brother Wukong drink from the same river and choose to decline the cure?" Wukong: "No, it's HIS fault." (*jabs thumb at Macaque*) Macaque: (*blushing, waves nervously at his mate's Pilgrim brothers*) Ao Lie, breaking the tension: "So this is your Equal in Strength you've been telling us about!" Macaque, slight smugness: "That's what you've been calling me?" Wukong, gritting teeth from pain: "Not now Mihou..."

Macaque stays at Wukong's side the whole time, even as his instincts are going nuts, snarling at the Pilgrims if they dare approach. And even when his hand was definitely broken by Wukong's grip during a really bad contraction.

The rest of the Pilgrims meditate and pray for Wukong and the baby's health. Ao Lie makes a point of chilling in his dragon form to scare off any passing creatures or people - dragons don't like being disturbed when they're laying an egg, and he imagines its the same for Stone Monkeys.

After a lot of pushing and encouragement, a tiny egg makes itself known, cracking open shortly thereafter.

What lies within?

A chirpy, chubby-faced baby monkey with glowing (Macaque starts crying then) ears and dark fur - the little thing's cries sounding indignant as if they'd been awakened from a long sleep. Guanyin makes a point to gather the citrine and amethyst-imbedded shell of the newborn for the parents to keep.

Wukong and Macaque can't even remember what they were fighting about earlier - all that matters is the clinging baby on Wukong's chest. Little thing is a bit smaller than expected due to their premature birth, but they're healthy and hungry.

The rest of the Pilgrims are allowed in after everything is cleaned up and Macaque's hand has been bandaged.

First thing out of anyone's mouth is;

Zhu Bajie: "I thought monkeys had litters?" Wukong, growling: "Don't jinx me."

So yeah, now the Journey has a newborn baby and it's dad along for the ride.

[canadianno]

TCOLC AU Bishop refs!

They're done holy FUCK. The art here is kind of old, so some of the proportions are a little wrong, but I don't really mind all that much. 15 hours and 89 layers later, all 5 bishops are done. On one canvas because... I didn't wanna make new ones I'm ngl.

Each bishop has an everyday outfit and a crusade outfit! If you're drawing them at any point (now or in the future) and you have questions about the designs, don't be scared to send an ask my way, I'm always happy to clarify stuff.

(Note: I would greatly appreciate it if people didn't make suggestive jokes surrounding any of the designs, I'm not comfortable with them! Love yall <3)

Ramblings below! Edited note: tumblr likes to completely break my posts when I add a cut sometimes, which happened here, so I'm not gonna put one in hopes that it doesn't kill my formatting again. Hopefully it automatically "read more"s this post. If it doesn't I'm very sorry 🙏

🌿 Leshy: It's to be noted that my Leshy is transmasc, literally just because I think he deserves it, it's cool as fuck. I really wanted to give him the classic top-surgery scars because, I'll be honest, they're fun to draw, but I had to find a reasonable explanation for it because he's not a mammal. Anyway that's how I ended up with an entire evolutionary explanation for why he would have those. I will never be given the chance to explain it in the fic ever, so it shall just be random information I have forever. I love him he's silly.

🍄 Heket: While I am a big supporter of tomboy Heket, I also think she deserves to be cool and wear pretty frills whenever the fuck she wants. She's awesome and her shirt is supposed to look like a mushroom. It's also worth noting that the crosses on the bishops heads are specific, with Heket having two crosses with double prongs. She has them like this in-game and there's probably a cooler explanation for it but. I have my own silly headcanons bc I do what I want! Also, since I can't decide for the fucking life of me if she's a toad or a frog, I've decided she's just. Both. Both of them. Her mom was a frog her dad was a toad. Is this possible irl? No but COTL is a fantasy world I do whatever the fuck I want.

🌑 Narinder: Main thing I note for Narinder is that he has distinct facial markings, you just have to look closely. Another note is that his clothes have a repeating cloud motif because of the fog in the gateway- which, trust, it was his own idea. Lamb doesn't know why he chose it but they're not gonna argue. Narinders' main robes are made of wool, but his crusade outfit is made of cotton so it's easier to repair if damaged. His crusade outfit has the Big Pants because he's mostly gotta fight with his feet now, since most of the time his hands don't function reliably enough to hold a weapon.

🪸 Kallamar: Kallamar is funny to me because he's the only one here who's plantigrade, meaning he's got human-esque legs. Another notable design aspect is that he has a tail, when squids do Not Normally Have Those. That's because my Kallamar isn't fully a squid, and you can kinda sorta blame my mutual for that. Not really it's me who gave him the tail. Anyway, no matter how you draw him or what outfit he's in those 3 dark red jewels on the golden chain thing gotta be on him somewhere- they're sentimental to him. He usually wears them as a crown, but in the crusade outfit they're around his neck to be safer. Also, on the crusade outfit, he has stolen a set of Shamuras gloves. Brat little brother <3

🔮 Shamura: Their main outfit really closely resembles their bishop robes and that is intentional! They made the robes themselves, and it would've been close to an exact match had the Lamb banned them from using golden colored cloth. This is only partially because Lamb doesn't like them, but also because they don't want the bishops trying to start a mutiny, and walking around in bishop robes is a pretty easy way to collect weaker followers like flies. Shamuras' crusade outfit is also pretty unique compared to the others, and one of two reasons is that it's meant to resemble their old crusade outfits when they were younger. The second reason is that they look really cool. The outfit is designed for mobility, mostly, and before you say anything, the hip windows are because Shamura usually holds close range weaponry in the second set of arms and hates the way they snag on fabric when its there.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part XII

Word count: 2200+

Warnings: fighting, swearing, burns, SA, blood

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part XI | Part XIII

Your heart stopped at the sound of voice that followed you day and night, especially at nights, and then raced up. Another kind of tears filled your eyes and your teeth started chattering with fear. You didn't want to admit that sometimes you heard the echo of his laughter in the hallways, nor that his face terrorised you in the dreams. Because if you admitted it to yourself, you wouldn't even be able to leave the bedroom. You forbade yourself to think about it, but the horrors you experienced didn't disappear so easily, they just moved into your subconscious, lurking around in your most vulnerable moments. You wished this was one of them. You didn't want to see it but you had to. You slowly looked up to place where the voice came from. This time it really wasn't just your imagination, it was real.

The red head, Volkan, stood there with a mocking, cruel smile on lips, blocking your only escape route and for a short moment you were back in a room carved in stone. You were completely paralysed. He looked just like back then, the resemblance to his brothers undeniable now that you could see him clearly in the daylight. New was only a scar stretching from the temple to the corner of his mouth on the left side of his face.

And he wasn't alone. Behind him, near the door, arrogantly stood the other male, Lord Nail with a long sword attached to his back. He was waiting for you to give him your full attention. As soon as he had it, with one-sided grin he ran his hand over the lock and part of the door frame. The metal sizzled and melted. There was no escape from here, only a long, unsurvivable fall down.

"You even can't imagine how glad I am to meet you again," Volkan draw your attention back to him. "Last time we were interrupted in the best, unfortunately, but that won't happen again. I'm not done with you yet." His eyes slid down to your chest and then to the hem of your skirt and he licked his lower lip. You felt bile raising in your throat, instantly dirty solely from the way he gazed at you. He moved, slowly heading to you, that disgusting smile widening.

You internally screamed at your body to move, pleaded with any forgotten god who was willing to listen to send you help. A sob of relief escaped you as you legs and arms finally moved and you crawled backward, away from him.

He bursted out laughing. "Stupid woman. You can't escape me. Look around! The only way leads head first down. I doubt you could survive that, but we will test it soon, anyway." He wasn't in hurry, playing with you like cat with frightened mouse. He was enjoying this kind of situation, the power he had over you, the terror he evoked in you.

"Hewn City really brings up dumb women good for only one thing," Nail chuckled slyly, stepping closer, his dark eyes gleamed with lust. You felt sick. "Pity that this one have to die. I like quiet ones. It's much more fun to make them scream. Maybe we could get more of such like her when you become High Lord. What do you think?

"That's actually pretty good idea, but this one is mine," Volkan snarled. "You watch the door! That circus trick of yours can stop her but not my brothers. I don't wish to be disturbed this time."

Nail huffed discontent, but did as he was told. He was so ready to enjoy even watching though. You could feel it in his gazed that roamed over your body.

Meanwhile you managed to get up to your shaky feet, keeping the distance.

"You have quite a stamina," he started circling you like a wolf, closing on you. "I like that. It's pity I can't keep you. I'd love to examine it in detail. The look on Eris's face would be priceless."

"St-stay away," you stuttered. Your heart was about to explode. You had never been so scared in your entire life. You were so stupid. If only you hadn't come up here. If only you stayed with Eris, this wouldn't happen.

And Eris.. Your dear husband. You would give anything to see him one more time. To have a chance to apologize for your behaviour. To hold his big, warm hand. To see his beautiful boyish smile. To hear his deep voice.

No! You didn't want to end up like this. You couldn't give up yet, you had to fight. You rushed to the battlements, readying to shout at the top of your lungs for help. Hopefully someone would hear you. However, your mouth filled with smoke and you were choking on it, unable to breathe.

"Tsk, tsk. Forget that! I won't let you shriek for help." Volkan used the moment and lunged for you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and throat from behind. He easily dragged you to battlements on the other side where nobody could see you, and pushed your upper body down on the cold stone. You were trashing and kicking, trying to break away from him. It was useless. He was too strong.

"Let's proceed," he hissed to your ear as he pushed your legs apart with his. His breath caressed your face and for a moment everything went dark.

"Don't worry. It'll look like a suicide. Can you imagine what will people say about him? Less than a year after the wedding and he already drove his wife to commit suicide. It'll be fun."

You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't do that to Eris. You didn't want him to suffer any more. You pushed with all your strength against the stone.

"But before I kill you," his body was holding you down with ease while his hand started to pull your skirts up. "I want to hear you crying out my name, bitch."

Still choking on smoke, you couldn't scream, you couldn't do anything. Hot tears slid down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed and thought of only person who ever cared for you. Your Eris. You screamed his name in your mind as cold breeze touched your thighs.

In the same second the door melted into a puddle on the ground and your husband stepped from the shadows of staircase. You immediately felt his presence even though you didn't see him and sobbed in relief.

Nair cursed, but before he could do anything, a ball of fire hit him and lifted him off of his feet high into the air and above the battlement. With an ear-splitting roar, he fell from the tower.

Eris didn't even blink, his gaze trained on Volkan's hand on your thigh, just few inches from your butt. Liquid fire swirled in his amber eyes and he burst in flames.

"Hands off of my wife!" He snarled lowly, the sound so dangerous and raw coming from the depths of his chest that you shivered with fear and got goosebumps all over your body.

The smoke disappeared and you finally could breathe. You never thought that there would be a time when you would be so excited that you could take a lungful of air. There was only one thing that made you even happier than lungs full of fresh air.

He came.

Despite the fact that only a few minutes ago he was so upset with you, Eris came looking for you.

However Volkan wasn't ready to give up so easily. He grabbed you, pulling you up on your legs once again. Your back bumped into his broad chest while you had to balance on your tiptoes and something sharp and cold pressed against your throat. You gasped and froze, eyes widening in horror. It was a dagger, the first drops of warm blood already rolling down your skin.

Eris gritted his teeth and flames disappeared in a puff of smoke, his eyes jumping between you, the dagger and the redhead.

"That's it, brother," Volkan growled. "Don't try anything or I'll cut open that pretty neck of hers. And you know I'll do it."

"Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. It's only between you and me."

"Look at you! How low you have sunk. You not only brought this dirt to our Court, you are in love with her."

"Shut up!"

"How pathetic," Volkan laughed, changing the angle of dagger, so now it pointed under your chin. You tilted head back, trying to get as far from the sharp tip as possible. "Is she so good in bed or she used some dirty tricks to get here? Your coupling with this whore from Night Court has weakened you. I'm sure he got into your head with her help and uses you like a puppet."

"Do you even listen yourself?" Eris spattered. You'd never seen him so angry. His skin seemed to thin and you could see flames swirling under it. He was seemingly cool, calm, collected, calculating, nothing could break his focus. And his eyes.. Those amber orbs alone could kill. "No one can control me!"

"No? Really? To your knees," Volkan ordered.

When Eris didn't move, he pressed down on the dagger and more of the warm wetness ran down your neck and chest. You whimpered quietly. Eris's eyes shot to you. Your gazes locked and for a second you caught a glimpse of pain deep inside them. For some reason this was hurting him more than you.

Muscle ticked in his jaw and he reluctantly knelt down. Volkan started to laugh so badly that his head fell back. And that was a mistake.

That was your only chance. You didn't have time to think it over. You elbowed him in the left side as hard as you could. He didn't expect it. His grip on you loosened as he pulled arm that was holding you in place, to his sore ribs and you twisted to the side, dancing away from his reach.

Eris was immediately on his feet and his fist connected with Volkan's jaw with such strength that his head flew back.

His brother staggered but swung the dagger, managing to cut front of Eris's shirt and scratch his chest.

Eris caught his arm with dagger, the other hand landed on his throat. The air filled with a smell of burnt meat. Columns of smoke began to rise from under his hands and Volkan opened mouth in a silent scream, flames shot from his insides and his eyes. It was a horrible sight. Thankfully it took just a second and before your eyes he turned into ashes carried away by the wind.

As the relief that the nightmare was finally over, spread in your chest, you noticed something else. You again couldn't breathe. Your mouth filled with blood, the front of your dress was already soaked in it. He didn't cut you that much or he did?

Your knees buckled and you began to fall to the ground. Eris's arms wrapped around you, slowing down your fall. He carefully pulled you into his lap, his face contorted in pain and rage, his amber eyes filled with silver tears. He pressed a trembling palm to the long cut across your neck, trying to stop the bleeding. It must have happened when you elbowed Volkan, but because of the adrenaline you didn't feel it right away.

"No," he sobbed. "No! You have to stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me!"

You were making wet squeaking noises as you fought for air. Your eyes found his face in a fading light. You needed to apologize to him. You had to, before it would be late. You couldn't leave like this. You focused on that with your whole being while numbing cold was slowly spreading through your body, the darkness lurking at the edges of your vision. You couldn't feel your legs nor arms anymore. The time was running through your fingers like water, unstoppable.

Eris's hot tears were falling on your face and rolling down your cheeks like your own.

"You can't leave me. Not yet. Not before I-.."his voice broke and he shook his head. "My Y/N.. my sweet mate.. Please, not yet.. Stay with me.."

"E..ri..s.." you wheezed. It was so exhausting to push even so short word through your stiff lips. You desperately needed more air and more time.

The sounds of heavy footsteps filled the air and Killian with a few soldiers and healer at his heels appeared. They were slightly out of breath after running up so many steps.

"Five dead guards and several injured were found. I came as soon as-" Killian halted as he saw you in Eris's lap, the blood seeping between his fingers on your neck.

Eris was shaking wildly with sobs, pressing you to his chest, your eyes never leaving his face despite hardly seeing it. It's been a while since you stopped feeling his touch that was keeping you warm. "It doesn't heal.. Why? This can't be.. My mate is-"

You never learnt what he was about to say because darkness swallowed you suddenly, without warning. The picture of his harrowed expression and damp face was burned into your mind, following you to the nothingness. All your senses shut down at once and you felt as light as feather, floating in a void of space and time.

You didn't make it.

You didn't apologize.

[impala-dreamer]

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @guiltyasdave <3

wip #1 • SINK IN MY WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!

there's something off with logan...

this is the feral!logan fic that won the last poll i posted. i'm almost done with it, literally all i need to do is finish up the smut but it's been kicking my ass every single time i try and sit down to actually finish it :))) which is so great and fun for me :)))

The energy in the room crackles like a storm about to break, and you feel it in your bones, in the way your skin prickles under his gaze. "I was only gone for an hour," you say, your voice measured, careful. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you."  You chance a glance over your shoulder, and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs. Logan hasn’t moved an inch from his perch on the edge of the bed, but the sheer force of his presence keeps you rooted in place, heart hammering in your chest. “Hmm, that’s real sweet, baby,” he drawls, sitting up straighter now, leaning forward. The motion makes him seem larger somehow, shoulders broad and imposing in the dim light. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, and the way his gaze rakes over you feels like a physical touch, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your fingers still in the drawer, fabric slipping from your grasp as your pulse pounds in your ears. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught in the snare of his sharp, predatory focus. You turn slowly, arms falling to hang limply at your sides. "I wasn't gone long." Logan tilts his head, a low, amused sound rumbling in his chest as he rises to his feet with a fluid, deliberate ease that makes your stomach flip. “Didn’t feel that way to me, darlin’.” His voice is a low, gravelly purr, sending a shiver down your spine. “Felt like forever.” His eyes never leave yours as he crosses the room, the green completely swallowed by the dark black of his pupils as they seep into the color like oil spilling out over the surface of a lake. You’ve never seen him like this before, so hungry. "Logan," you say slowly, back pressed tightly against your dresser. "You're really starting to freak me out."  Logan hums idly, head cocked to the side as he watches you. "I can hear your heartbeat."  His tone is calmer now, but there’s still a dangerous edge to it, like a knife pressed just lightly enough against the skin not to break it. Your pulse races, heat simmering in your stomach despite the slight edge of fear clawing its way through your chest. He stops in front of you, close enough that his scent invades your senses strong enough to make your knees feel like they’re about to buckle beneath you. “There’s nothin’ to be scared of baby,” he mutters quietly, thick arms coming up to cage you against the dresser. 

wip #2 • ALL THAT GLITTERS...

a billionaire walks into your job, and then into your apartment…

omg...a bruce wayne fic? yeah i don't know either...i just got way too into the dc universe by accident and had one (1) single idea that i thought fit his character too well to not write it. will i actually ever post this? i don't know. am i having fun with it anyway? yes, maybe a little too much fun. don't read into it i'm just throwing this at the wall because it's plagued my mind for days.

You snort, shaking your head as you walk down the hall, but you can't help the way your mind starts wandering. Maybe Rachel is right, was that your big moment? The story you'd pass down to your grandchildren once you got old enough that your filter had gone? "Yes, it's true, grandma had one crazy night with the Bruce Wayne." You shake your head, dispelling all thoughts of what might have happened had you not spent the whole lunch nervously poking at a way too overpriced plate of pasta and shoving your own foot in your mouth. Bruce—Mr. Wayne—clearly felt some kind of pity towards you that day. He was known for his charitableness, helping you score that holiday bonus and taking you out was just that—charity. You had to admit it was good press, a good headline to splash across the magazines he frequented. You could see it so clearly in your mind. BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY BRUCE WAYNE CHARMS BUMBLING SALES GIRL WITH LUXURY LUNCH! HEART OF GOLD, OR JUST ANOTHER PR STUNT? You sigh, the memory of his perfectly polite smile gnawing at you. He didn’t look uncomfortable, though. If anything, he seemed...amused. Not in the cruel, condescending way you feared, but in the same way someone might look at a puppy struggling to climb a too-tall staircase. Endearing, maybe, but ultimately a fleeting novelty. It wasn’t like the Bruce—Mr. Wayne—was secretly harboring some deep, hidden interest in you. He’d paid for lunch, helped you out with a well-placed favor, and probably forgot about you the moment he left the restaurant. A man like him doesn't chase after someone like you. He chases after pretty trust fund babies, A-list actresses, supermodels. Not women working commission at Harrow & Bloom that live in broken down apartment complexes where there's only one elevator that's been out of order since you moved in. And honestly? That was fine. Better, even. You didn't need that kind of stress in your life, the stress of being thrown off the deep end and into the public eye all because you were photographed on your solemn walk of shame out of Wayne Manor. You were over it. Completely over it. That's what you tell yourself as your wrench the door open with a little more force than necessary and— And Bruce Wayne is on the other side, standing in the hallway of your shitty apartment complex in a perfectly pressed suit looking extremely out of place. Bruce Wayne is on the other side of your door. The door that you slam right back shut directly in his face just as he opens his mouth to speak. What the fuck?

kisses!

i know it's not wednesday anymore...but i'll tag some beloved mutuals anyway! sorry if you've been tagged already <3

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @elflutter @eupheme @javier-pena @raeinyourdreams @moonlight-prose @silverskyeline @superhoeva

[ellecdc]

Dude, I don't know why I am asking this. But do you think poly moonwater will choose to be child free? I do think so. I mean, regulus past story and remus fury problem, I don't think they'll want kids at all

But if reader accidentally gets pregnant. Do you think they gonna keep their distance an arm lenght? I mean, I remember in the book remus trying to leave nymphadora who's pregnant at that moment (or is it after she gave birth? Can't really remember) by trying to help Harry looking for the idk the name of it, voldemort collections?

oooouuuu this is a fun question! thanks for asking; and I think that happened before teddy lupin was born and they were searching for Voldemort's horcruxes! - also, in regards to canon, I think the reason remus felt willing to take off was because he truly was sort of all alone: no parents, no siblings, no family, no friends. Plus society constantly shitting on him, plus there being a war etc etc, he felt very desperate and didn't feel like he could handle being responsible for nymphadora and a child

But of course since WE DON'T LIVE IN A WOLD WITH VOLDEMORT OVER HERE 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I think this is a valid question

(my answer is going to be SFW until the page break below - I will put warnings ahead of time for minors)

My answer would be yes, I agree that Regulus and Remus would perhaps wish to be childfree. Like you said, Remus feels like society views him as a stain and he wouldn't want to pass that legacy onto a child (biologically his or not), and he also wouldn't want to put a child through the pain of seeing their father suffer through every lunar cycle. Regulus had a horrific childhood and would be very scared to be anything like his mother or father, and I kind of see him as this guy who really doesn't know what to do with kids...he never had a childhood really, and never was around other kids until he was at Hogwarts, and by then he was right traumatized soooo yes I agree, he would be worried about having children.

As for our darling reader finding out she was pregnant? I have some thoughts on that.

I think Regulus has a deep rooted sense of duty and loyalty to his people, and ultimately, Remus and reader would be his people. Even if he hated the idea of reader being pregnant/having his child, I think he would shove that down so deep and just completely take on this role he never really wanted but hey, he's here now and he's going to do what he has to do. It was why he ended up in Slytherin (duty/loyalty to his family), and it was why he took the dark mark (duty/loyalty to his family). He took the mark because he believed that to be his role, his job in life - and if reader ended up pregnant, well, that was his duty then.

I think Remus would be a wild card. Remus never had a proper childhood either; he had to grow up really fast as he was bitten at only 4 years old. This means for as long as he can remember, he's been a werewolf. He didn't get to attend school (due to injuries/pains, scars, unexplained absences etc), he never had siblings, and he couldn't play with the village kids. So not only does he not necessarily know what to do with kids, I think he'd still have some of those "the kid would be better off without me, I can't curse another life to me and my lycanthropy) BUT I think he'd have been around Harry and loved that kid so damn much, and he'd have his friends and loved ones to help him come to terms with it.

This could be a cute fic request.

now.....as for the NSFW stuff (18+, minors don't look down here)

I have this headcanon that pureblood's have a breeding kink....they were literally bred, born, and raised to carry on the bloodline and produce heirs - so I don't think Regulus was fucking innocent in that conception LOL he would have been very excited thinking about spilling inside of reader and getting her knocked up.

in a similar vein, I also believe that there is a primal side of Remus with his lycanthropy which would ALSO support a breeding kink - truly fucks like an animal tbh and gets so turned on at the thought of filling reader up

okay sorry for being a dirty horn dog thanks byeeeee

[irisintheafterglow]

One-Shots

Gojo Satoru

You Are In Love - "you're my best friend," and you knew what it was

...Ready For It? - knew he was a killer first time that I saw him

Hits Different - it hits different 'cause it's you (or, struggling in a situationship with gojo satoru)

Never Grow Up - meeting megumi for the first time

The Archer - all of my enemies started out friends, can he hold on to you?

invisible string - the first time megumi uses ten shadows

even in my worst times, you see the best in me - being the strongest has its downsides, but at least you're suffering with him

life's no fun without a good scare - you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow) - satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.

every dead end street led you straight to me - former fuckboy gojo has some things to say at the top of a mountain

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this! - coworkers to lovers with a healthy amount of teenage eavesdropping

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger) - married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

Geto Suguru

The Great War - somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Back to December - you gave him all your love and all he gave you was goodbye

say you'll remember me - you were destined to fail from the start, so why does it hurt so badly when he's gone?

dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear - need some fluff after reading all the angst above?

tell me that you love me, love me 'til my lips turn blue - being partnered with suguru on a mission takes an unexpected turn

what if all i need is you? - after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

Nanami Kento

of daisies and collisions - nanami kento felt a little out of his element, with a small bundle of flowers sitting in his lap and brooding in the dark corner of the jazz bar. yet, you play that song he likes again, and nothing else matters.

Blurbs/Drabbles

the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours - holding satoru and letting him rest, even if it's only for a little bit

it took so long to know someone like you - he doesn't know who he is with you and it scares both of you

bad days and blanket burritos - good ol' satoru bf fluff

Imagines/HCs

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

how gojo and geto react to their partner being obsessed with them (fluffy !!!)

Gojo Satoru

What, like it's hard? -> law student!gojo

general hcs

when he buys a motorcycle

I'm with the band -> rockstar!gojo

rockstar!gojo meet sexyy

the valentine's day show

quiet moments and teaching you guitar

awards show

Falling for you, on and off the ice -> hockey player!gojo

someone steals your usual rink slot

watching a game

living in winter, i am your summer - he's terrible at figure skating

Kachow -> professional racer!gojo

on the radio

smoke his ass! - pro racer!gojo needs some motivation after a newcomer to the track pisses him off

Geto Suguru

oops? - satoru finds out that you've been seeing his best friend

a quiet moment in the aquarium

napping with you :)

scare actor!suguru

Save a horse, ride a cowboy -> gunslinger!suguru

gunslinger!geto au

big iron - he's not the first to go after the crystal-eyed bandit, but something tells you that this one will keep his promise to buy you a drink when the hunting is done.

Theta Phi Fuckhead -> enemy frat!suguru

ancient grudge, new mutiny

move fast, keep quiet

half the things that haven't happened yet

Series Masterlists

End Game (volleyball captain!gojo x you) COMPLETED

Co-Parenting Megumi with Satoru COMPLETED

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (gojo x you during shibuya) COMPLETED

VIGILANTE SHIT (vigilante!au, IN PROGRESS)

[dinasfavslut]

hello could you do a sal fisher x fem reader who is very confident but also really friendly?

Ok so I tried but I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff I guess it’s just more fluff and to be completely honest is was kinda lazy with it I’m sorry it’s not my best but I hope you like it (probably will delete later)

Sally Face x Fem!r

No major warnings slight smut near the end but just like leaving marks and neck kisses

I believe that he has many insecurities because of the trauma he experienced as a child and because of the mask he wears.

-

When you go to the beach, Sal normally doesn't get in the water; he doesn't want his mask to get torn or fly off by a large wave, and if he does, he makes sure it doesn't get above his knees.

-

As much as he adores you, he is also envious of your confidence and unaffected demeanor when you fall flat on your face in public. People fall all the time. So, if someone messes up your or his order when getting food, you call the waitress back so they may make the necessary corrections.

-

You met for the first time in college. You could say you were popular, but it was more about how kind you were and how many friends you had. You were well-known, but not everyone knew who you were or wished to be like you. So you were sitting in chemistry as the "popular" girl next to the "quiet" guy (it's always the quiet ones). "Woah, that's such a cool mask!"

"Oh, uh, thanks."

"Did you make it yourself or get it from somewhere?"

“It’s just prosthetic." He didn't want to give into too much information since he didn't want to scare you away too quickly. He was surprised you didn't ask him what the mask was for; that hadn't come up in a long time.

-

You've been dating for a few months but have only known each other for around a year."Don't you want to know why I am wearing this?"

"I mean, yeah, I've always wondered, but you haven't seemed at ease talking about why you wear it or what happened, but I think you'll tell me when you're ready."

It took him some time. He removed his mask totally about five months into the relationship. He was stunning. You couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair and kiss him like you'd wanted to for so long. His lips were surprisingly soft. Larry and Ash are the only people who have seen his face (his father is irrelevant). You're now staring at him in awe. "I knew you'd look lovely, but I really underestimated myself." He drew you back into the embrace. It was brimming with passion, love, hunger, and lust.

-

You feel like it was harder not to kiss him. Consider how many times he's wanted to pull off the mask and make out with you, but he couldn't be too concerned about how you'd scream in fright or slap him for leading you on for so long just to be mortified under his mask. He was well aware that they were ridiculous ideas.

-

It was dark and rainy outside, and he had planned to take you out to a nice meal. You had your hair done perfectly, your makeup was simple, highlighting your best features, and you wore a dress that accentuated all of your curves as well as a pair of sneakers to look attractive while remaining comfortable. He was driving with his headlights on, barely able to see due to the heavy rain. "Holy shit, Sal! Stop the car, Sal!" He pushed on the brakes, forcing himself forward as you jumped out of the car. A cat was frozen in front of the car; it was dark, wet, and shivering. You cloaked it in a hoodie.

Your hair was a mess, and what you thought was smear-proof mascara was running down your cheeks. "We don't have to go if you don't want us to."

“No no, I'll just put my hair up and clean my make-up." You walked into the restaurant, garnering strange looks as if you'd been living on the street. "sal table for two?"

The night finished with you leaving markings all over him and him biting into your neck, which was okay because you were willing to wear anything that claimed you as his.

[impishjesters]

Jax-in-a-box

warning(s): mentioned spicy jokes/comments note(s): (In response to the request) We don't have Jack in the box around here so I actually had to google it, thought it sounded familiar lol A/N: This idea was so cute and I had so much fun writing it. It is sort of implied the reader is attached to said box, but not how. But now I am imagining them hopping around like the Pixar lamp so that’s hilarious. If you want more hc's of the reader detached from the box feel free to send in another request~ request: I'm requesting a Jax x reader (crushing and actual relationship stage if possible) where they are kinda Jack in the box theme (no not like the restaurant mascot, I was telling my friend about this idea/request and she thought I was talking about him 😭) So the reader is the tallest of the group and has long hair, similar to the rope-likeness to Ragatha’s hair and they also have very stretchy arms and can do a bunch of things with them (wrap one of them completely around a person, can reach the top of the tent etc.) The reader also likes to stay in their box most of the time since it's dark and peaceful but isn't like antisocial, likes to hang out with the others and does light hearted pranks on them (Jax included, no one is safe).

Crushing Stage

You aren’t on the same level of jackassery or prankage that Jax is, but you do have a knack for more light-hearted pranks and that’s admirable because he always gets a good laugh out of whoever you prank.

Though that’s not saying much, all of them have been subjected to a jumpscare or two by you, trying to approach you when you are in your box really is unpredictable.

Like did you not hear them or are you intentionally trying to jumpscare someone? (It’s usually the first one, the walls aren’t thick but they can muffle when someone is trying to directly talk to you.)

Actually, the first time you scared Jax it was completely unintentional. Sometimes you sort of just, blend into the scenery when your box is tucked alongside other stuff. You didn’t even know he was there when you popped out and just, scared him.

Fortunately for him, nobody else was around because the sound that left him was priceless. He hates it (affectionately) that you use that to tease him every now and then.

Another time that you startled (read: scared) him was when you were hanging off the ground, he hadn’t been aware you were quite literally hanging around until you dropped down, the box making a comically loud noise in the process. (Which is funny because that time others were around, luckily Jax didn’t scream.)

The more he gets comfortable with you the more he finds himself leaning against your box during group socializing time or even letting you wrap one of your arms around him and yoink him around (usually out of harm’s way, Caine’s games are too much sometimes)

In the fashion that “a boy tugs on a girl’s hair because he likes her”, Jax has very much tugged your hair—it’s long and there’s a lot of it so it doesn’t always get in the box when you close the top. So parts stick out and he’s definitely let that part of his brain act on the “what if I just..yank it?”

Afterward, he just does it because he likes that your attention turns directly on him. It’s never a violent tug or anything, just enough to get your eyes on him.

Dating Stage

Not too much changes when the two of you start dating. There are still pranks but the two of you are closer and whatnot.

However, there is the new addition of more risque jokes/comments, such as the comment about whether cranking the handle on your box does something. (The first joke happens whether those kinds of comments discomfort you or not, though he’ll stop if they do. But if they don’t? Oh boy, expect so many awful jokes.)

At first, he had no opinion, but he kinda likes that you’re taller than him. The only other person is Kinger and he’s usually hunched over.

He finds your stretchy arms to be both useful and entertaining, though seeing them stretch to extreme lengths kinda bugs him out. (which is ironic because he’s a stretchy toy himself)

Along with leaning against your box, now he’s more comfortable actually sitting on it, or rather the ledge of it when it’s open.

He’s definitely sat on it while it was closed before though, you may or may not have accidentally thrown him off. (he’s irritated, but honestly, he should’ve seen that coming)

On occasion when the gang is stuck playing some dumb game that he’s not really paying attention to, he’ll sit on the ledge of your box and mess with your hair. It’s similar to Ragatha’s but longer and it’s a nice time-waster just seeing what he can do with it.

Since you tend to stay in your box more than your actual room, it makes finding you at times a pain. Sometimes Jax gives up, sometimes he asks where someone saw you last, and sometimes he just yells out. The first few times it’s all fun and games but afterward, he just gets irritated, it’s like you move around just to piss him off.

For whatever reason in the beginning he never questioned how exactly you worked, you know, being in a box, or part of a box? Expect plenty of questions and the occasional attempted peek into your box to see if you have legs (maybe a spring?) or not. (he’s not trying to be dirty he’s just intrigued.)

[a-confused-spoon]

Jinx's haircut: how Powder and Ekko's story comes full circle

Hi! So, it appears Jinx will be cutting her hair short in season 2 (which is cool as fuck), and I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion on it, so I wanted to share my two cents 😊

I might refer to Jinx and Powder as if they are different ideantities, but I'm aware that's not how that works; it's just an easier way to express myself. Also english isn't my first language, so apologies for any possible wiritng mistake (this is a bit of a mess 😅)

* deep breath in *

As it has already been pointed out, this choice must have a deeper reason other than esthetic (I've been seeing the phrase "hair holds memories" used a lot), and what's even more interesting is that her new look resembles a lot how she used to look like as a kid; a bit bizarre, given how the entirety of season 1 showed us how Powder and Jinx's coexistence only brings the girl pain. As a matter of fact, the finale makes it clear to us that even she sees these two sides of herself as mutually exclusive.

So why and how exactly would this happen now?

What I keep going back to is the idea that maybe, just maybe, this has to do with her possibly "taking the lead" in Zaun; whether she actively becomes a leader or if she just "leads by example" (therefore passively), it doesn't change the fact that for better or worse she will be depicted as a leading revolutionary figure.

And fair enough: she singlehandedly killed half of the Council, the people who hold decisional power and have contributed to the misery on the other side of the river. After Vender's failed attempt on the bridge and Silco's focus on his own business dealings with Piltover among everything else he did, Jinx's attack on the city - something she does to ultimately solidify her identity as Jinx - opens a door that the Undercity was waiting to be opened for decades.

Here's the thing:

Being Jinx doesn't just mean acting on unbridled rage and being a menace to society; it means being feared by most, if not all, with the only possible exceptions being those who also accepted their inner monster. To put it in Singed's words, "If you take this path, they will despise you".

Being Jinx fundamentally implies loneliness.

Silco was consistently reminding her this: "I am your family; everyone else betrays us" / "Everyone betrays us Jinx! Vander! Her! They will never understand, it's only us".

In the official clip 'Enemy of my enemy' we find out that he only saw her cry twice, the two scenes we also witness as an audience, meaning he didn't see her cry once during the timeskip, and I'm sure it's safe to say that she most definitely did cry a lot given how she goes from episode 3 Powder (scared, couldn't grasp the concept of killing someone, heartbroken by the nickname jinx) to episode 4 Powder (a beast, kills in cold blood, has taken Jinx as her actual name)... it must've been an ugly transition, and it definitely didn't happen overnight; if Silco, who was the closest person she had all that time, didn't see it, then I think it speaks a lot on how alone Jinx really was in her darkest times.

For all the love he had for her, he reinforced this idea of isolation as an unescapable consequence of the right path, and I think this is also reflected in the lair that (supposedly) he found for her, especially when you compare it to the Firelights’ one:

The Firelights (this is important for later) are all about community and sharing joy as well as struggle and pain; they live in a place of healing, filled with life, without a roof so the sunlight can reach them during the day, and at nights living bugs that shine a light of their own fill up the hideout.

Jinx's place is diametrically opposed to this: it’s dark and looks cold, it's completely made of metal, the roof’s blocking any natural light and it hangs above an abyss with no bottom to be seen; the only company she consistently has are the puppets of her dead brothers and the only living thing that knows his way in is the only one that can understand, the only one she can rely on - aka Silco himself.

However, as Jinx herself knows, this may have worked for him, but it wasn't working for her for the longest time: she never stopped yearning for affection, love, friendship- that part of her never really went away; it was only being suppressed, suffocated, maybe unintentionally, and I strongly believe that it only worsen her trauma, and it's one of the things that made her spiral so bad into her depression, to the point of hallucinating.

I think that Silco's line in the baptism scene is particularly relevant here: "You need to let Powder die, so the fear of pain will no longer control you", where the fear of pain would refer to the fear of being on her own, of always failing and disappointing others, of being weak and never satisfying the desires, expectations, hopes that Powder carried within her to be “a valuable member of the team”.

If she lets Powder die (which again, she does in the final episode of season 1), this is no longer a problem: if she doesn't do teams, because teams don't want a jinx to begin with, that fear can't get to her; if she's a solo player, a self-sufficient loose cannon, she won't need to rely on anyone but herself because she's strong on her own and does not need the support of others.

If her power lays in the monster she is, the one everyone condemns her for being, then that childhood wish of hers just isn't a realistic option.

...but then this happens.

We know from the teaser trailer that in the operation Caitlyn's leading, 'finding Jinx' and 'neutralize any agent still loyal to Silco' are separate objectives. Which makes sense, since as far as they know Silco was the leader of a group of people, and now that he's gone Jinx is an individual under her own agency and her own agency alone. If initially she fights by herself, for herself because she can and fuck Piltover, then it all falls in line with what I stated so far.

But then we hear Sevika, who has hated Jinx's guts and who Jinx has hated back since day one, telling her to get the people together, to unite the Undercity as one because she can do that. Mind you, the girl has lived in Zaun all her life, she knows damn well that the end of Piltover is something the entire Undercity has been waiting for (“Imagine what the whole of the Lances could do!” from episode 2); yet despite this she needs to be openly told what is going on, that she’s not sizing the opportunity she’s created. She isn't, cause... her? Leading? A group of people? No. Not after the last time she tried to help, and most importantly, not after everything she learned under Silco.

Jinx can't fathom the idea of herself as a part of a part of a team. How can she? She literally just came to terms with isolation as ever present- and now, for some reason, the people of the city, who always either ran away from her or wanted her gone, are dying their hair blue in her image, trusting her, following her, painting murals of her as the bringer of revolution.

She isn't taking power forcibly like Silco did; she's just doing her thing, her Jinx thing, and Zaun, on its own, is choosing her as the leading figure.

Imagine how frustrating it must be for Jinx to look back and realize that Silco, her father- who has loved her, forgiven her, raised her, called her perfect, defended her, was there for her, saved her, guided her- was wrong, and put her in a condition of never ending existential pain when she could’ve had it differently the entire time; imagine how confusing it must be for her to look back and realize that it never mattered whether or not others understood her, 'cause she wasn't as unlovable or unforgivable as she thought herself to be in the first place, that Silco and Vi were never her only options.

Imagine how painful it must be for her to look back and realize that for all this time she could’ve had friends and be accepted and be trusted and rely on others because she never HAD to be alone.

...keeping this in mind, let's talk about Ekko and the missing flashback from episode 7 for a moment.

Admittedly we don’t have a lot of information, other than it took place not too long after the events of episode 3 (then again, to be fair, we don’t know a lot about their relationship as enemies as well: it’s all between the lines; I surely have my own opinions of how they feel about each other being on the enemy side, but I don’t believe it’s super relevant here). What’s for sure about this flashback is that it was a defining moment in both Ekko and Powder’s journey, especially for the latter. Someone surely died, and it 100% was Powder’s fault. It could be both the result of her very first crisis or her first intentional murder; in both cases it results in her deciding for herself to align with Silco as opposed to her best friend.

The way I like to see it is that, since the trauma was still very fresh, she might have been too scared of the idea of fighting alongside others after what happened last time, and she pushed herself to kill someone on purpose just to push Ekko away and prove a point (Silco’s point). I love the idea of the tragic irony of Ekko being the one person Powder managed to really save, and Powder being the one person Ekko couldn’t.

Personal headcanons aside though, the last part is the most important one here: Ekko couldn’t save Powder from Silco, and by extension everything he represents.

I’d like to point out that one of the most tragic aspects of the two becoming enemies (to me) is that, throughout those years, they reciprocally were the only living person the other shared a past with (well, Vi too, but she was in prison the entire time).

Silco not only takes over by force, he also marks as his all the places of said past: the Last Drop, Vi and Powder’s house… one line that always stuck with me from episode 7 is when Ekko tells Vi “All that’s left is Jinx, and she belongs to Silco”.

Not with Silco; to Silco. As if she too a piece of the past he turned into his property.

It’s like he understands that while yes, Powder made the decision by herself, that she wants to stay with Silco, he also knows that the man is the one to blame for... well, all of it; the kid was there when Silco showed up unprovoked at Benzo’s place, he knows things went downhill from there.

Ekko knows that he is the bigger problem and the bigger enemy. Even Vi, without knowing a thing about the past few years, can tell Silco put some shit into her sister’s head; Ekko can probably guess the same, difference being that Ekko has the responsibility of keeping other people safe, and he can’t risk it all for someone that, while possibly manipulated, ultimately isn’t collaborative. Ekko can’t jeopardize all he’s built and done for his former best friend, no matter how much it hurts him to be her enemy.

Back to season 2.

Like the entire fandom has already pointed out, there’s a 99.9% chance there will be an alliance between them and Jinx, especially when looking at Ekko’s new outfit.

Of course, this will not be immediate: my guess is that while Jinx works alone at the very start Ekko will be with Heimerdinger and following the arrest of the Firelights we see in the trailer maybe there’s a split. And even after Jinx takes charge so to speak, and possibly frees them, among others, from Stillwater, it’s possible there will be (and there should be) stages in the alliance: initial distrust, potential fight within the community- like yeah, let’s not forget what Jinx did to these people.

Even if they do go ahead with it, it is probably out of necessity more than anything else, with not one but two military forces against the whole of the Underground. It’s not like they’d be the most ecstatic faction about it, and the same goes for Ekko, which is why the new look will probably come in later.

But exactly like he could see Powder for a brief second on the bridge clearly enough for him to stop himself from beating her, he will, most definitely, see her again through Jinx's inner turmoil... that, and she also can’t keep her shit together when it comes to what she's feeling, the girl really is an open book.

And yeah, the situation would be pretty emotionally disorienting: she's being as Jinx as ever, but people like her now, which is something she used to want as Powder, who is supposed to be dead, and they're willingly following her like they willingly followed Vander and there's murals of her with him, though she's pursuing what aligns more with Silco's dream, but also turns out Silco was wrong about Powder, who might still be alive deep down- the whole thing is a big big mess.

Despite everything that I said about him, it’s not like Jinx would start to resent Silco. She could never, not after his last words to her. They mean the world to her, he means too much to her, and let’s not forget she probably hear his voice now too, along Mylo’s and Claggor’s; it might even be a calming voice to her, one she’s happy to hear even if she knows he’s not real… which makes it all worse and more painful to deal with.

In this scene from the trailer, it seems like Ekko’s talking to her (some have pointed out the blue hair out of focus). Since this is still the look in season, at this point in time Ekko (and the rest of the Firelights) are not truly committed to this alliance with Jinx, and vice versa, Jinx is still figuring out how to deal with all this unexpected appreciation.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about Jinx’s way of dealing with inner conflicts, especially ones that deal with the memories of the past, is that it often leads to disaster. This is a bit of a long shot, but what if the reason Ekko’s so beat up Is because she unintentionally sabotaged one of their own attacks on Piltover? Or perhaps they were caught up in a tough situation because of something she did or didn’t do? My point is that if he really is talking with her while in this condition, she probably is in a similar one.

Regardless, they are on the same side, and they are having a conversation. This is very likely the first time they reach out for each other since the day she chose to not go with him.

And I think it’s believable that of all the people she now has beside her, she’d talk to Ekko: he has this leader stuff already figured out. He has and still is taking care of people and keeping them safe better than she ever will, and on top of that, he still is the only one in Zaun (again, aside from Vi) who has known her since before she was Jinx, and he spared her on the bridge. He’s the perfect person to open up to.

And, get this, not only Ekko understands the pressure of taking the lead: he knows what it means to look back at someone you were fond of and feeling the pain of being wronged by them. He knows what it’s like to look back at old memories of someone you trusted and wonder if all those moments together really were what you thought they were, he knows what it’s like to wish it could all go back like it was, just so that candid version of them you have in your mind can still be true, present and untainted by the ugliness that now ruins all those precious moments.

He knows, 'cause he went through it with her... and now he can finally reach her.

Ekko may have not been able to save her from Silco then, but he can save her from Silco now.

And since he has built a community that grieved together, went through pain and joy together, he simply does what he’s always done with the Firelights. Sharing.

He tells with her what has worked for him: “Sometimes, taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind”- in the Franch dub he says “leaving a part of oneself behind”- meaning it doesn’t have to be all or nothing: she has the power to choose what to kiss goodbye and what can stay…

…and then she cuts her hair.

I think it’s important to note how these two moments are very similar in setting. I kid you not, the first time I watched the trailer I was convinced this was a scene where Jinx was burning Silco’s body after she killed him- which frankly could still be the case. I’ve also seen discussions being made for the little girl we see in the trailer being burned here, or Sevika, but I don’t think it’s either. Jinx is completely desensitized to death, even when Silco died her makeup isn’t this ruined. My guess is that this is something much deeper:

Jinx never properly grieved the past. Ever. So, maybe, she’s burning the part of herself she’s leaving behind. The hair she cut.

The hair Silco used to braid for her.

These two scenes parallel each other because “nothing ever stays dead”, but Silco must stay dead, for her own sake. For her own happiness: she is leaving him behind for good.

Only after this moment we get the new look for Ekko: he can work with this new Jinx, the one that now knows she can work within a team, even to the point of committing to the outfit (lol).

If in season 1 Jinx accepted her identity as it was defined by Silco, in season 2 she's re-inventing it under her own conditions: she gets to choose what "being Jinx" may or may not include. And it will always include a little bit of Powder.

Thanks for reading! 💚💙

[cheesecakeluver]

THE MORNING AFTER

hamzahthefantastic x reader

‎𐰁𖦹°⋆ When you wake up after a night out in a strangers bed, the two of you desperately try and figure out the events of that night, and how you ended up in his bed.

———————-

I stir in bed, awakening to a headache that pierces my skull. I shift in the covers lazily, snuggling into the warmth of them as cool air filtered the room.

Just as I’m near the the point of drifting back to sleep, I feel an arm drape over me. I sit upright immediately in shock, my eyes wide as they land across a dark curly haired man, who seems cosy in bed beside me. My mind begins racing, my heart beating uncontrollably fast as I stare at him, extremely confused, realising he was shirtless.

My eyes tear away from him, to the room surrounding me, and my jaw gapes wide open, as the room looking back at me wasn’t mine. The question running through my head, was how the fuck did i end up here, in this house, in this man’s bed?

Suddenly, the man in bed starts to stir, his eyes opening blearily as he wipes his curls away from his eyes, yawning softly, completely unaware.

That is, until his eyes adjust to the morning light peering through the window, and his expression becomes bewildered, stumbling out of the bed, wrapping the covers around his exposed body.

“Why are you in my bed? Who are you?” He exclaimed, his eyes widening as they scanned over me.

“I don’t know! I don’t even know who you are, or why I’m here, or.. even where the fuck I am!” I nervously ramble, my head in my hands as I avoid eye contact with him, my cheeks flushing pink.

He tilts his head as he continues to look me up and down with wide eyes, making me all the more flustered as i realised my attire, and the lack of clothes covering me.

“I was hoping that you’d be able to fill me in on what happened last night too” he asks, his breathing slowing down as he began to calm himself.

“My head is fucking killing me, and all I even vaguely remember is that one of my friends invited me to this party last night..” I recall, sitting down on the edge of his bed as I try and remember more of the previous night.

He slowly nods his head as you speak, smirking slightly as he gets a good look at you in your underwear.

“You and me both, this hangover isn’t fun”He responds, scratching the back of his head as he groans, feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before still.

“Any more details coming back to you?”

I sigh, frustrated, until I get an idea.

“Wait, your phone. Where is it?” I ask frantically, thoughts and ideas flooding my mind.

He chuckles at my eagerness to be on his phone, clearly amused by it. He stretches to grab his phone that was charging on the beside table, handing it to me.

“There you go” he smiles, sitting down on the bed beside me, leaning back.

“Did you take any pictures last night, or post anything?” I question, giving the phone back to him so he could enter his passcode, my fingers dancing against his as I do, causing my heart rate to go up just that little bit faster.

He leaned in close to me, his muscular build now almost touching mine, grinning as he watched me fidget with my fingers as he enters the passcode. He opens up his photos, scrolling through photos and videos from the night before.

“I got a few, yeah” he mentions, scrolling through the dozens he had saved.

“Show me” i whisper, almost scared to look, just incase, as I lean closer to him, peering over his shoulder to face the small phone.

He snickers at how close I’ve gotten, obviously liking having my body practically pressed against his. He opens up one of the videos, showing a clip of me and him, clearly drunk, dancing together in the middle of the table.

I groan, running my hands through my hair as my cheeks flush bright pink, embarrassment overcoming me at my past, drunken self.

“Just.. skip to the next one” i cringe, hearing my past drunken self singing through the speaker.

He chuckles at my embarrassed state, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. He skips to the next video, where we see a video of me and him standing next to each other, and I’m clearly trying to balance myself on his much larger frame as i struggle to stand up straight.

I can faintly hear the sound of my girlish giggling over the music, making me feel like vomiting due to how much desperation leaked off of me.

He continues to scroll through the videos for a little while longer, showing us both in various compromising positions on the couch, floor, bathroom, even the kitchen. He smirks to himself as i become more flustered, before finally returning to the main camera roll.

“Well” he grinned, turning to face me, our faces merely inches apart.

“That explains a lot”

“Remind me never to go out ever again and keep myself locked up in my house forever” i groan, rubbing my eyes intensely until I begin seeing stars.

He laughs gently at my dramatic exclamation, as he reaches his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, enjoying how flustered i looked.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, trust me, we were both just as bad as each other” he sighs, leaning back again his bed once again.

A silence fills the air between us, not awkward, just comfortable as our minds race with different thoughts, and confusing conversations.

We both turn to each other, at the same time, speaking over one another.

“I don’t eve-“

“Listen I’m-“

We both pause, laughing slightly, until he motions his head towards me, and i go first.

“I don’t even know your name..” I admit, wondering if he ever told me it to begin with.

He chuckles as i admit that i don’t know his name, clearly amused by it.

“it’s Hamzah” he replies casually, before smirking.

“And what’s yours? other than the pretty girl that stumbled into my bed last night?”

Blush covers my face before I can help it, and I smile sheepishly. “It’s y/n. You’re so shameless” i laugh, slapping his arm lightly as he chuckles, his curls falling into his dark eyes.

He grins in response to my shyness, clearly enjoying my reaction to his shameless flirting.

He looks down at my arms as i slap his, taking my wrists in his hands, his fingers almost completely circling my arms.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered” he teases, knowing how to get a rise out of me at this point. How I wish I was sober enough to remember last night..

I freeze, memories from last night flooding my head as my heart begins to panic, beating faster and faster.

“I should probably, uh, leave. Get out of here, you know..” i say awkwardly, standing up from the warm spot on the bed beside him, and looking around the room for my discarded clothes, evidence of our interaction last night.

I’d never gotten this close with someone before, and certainly not a man I had met the night before. It was surreal, how easy it was to talk to him, but I knew I needed to slow down.

He watches me as i stand up from the bed, his dark eyes trailing all over my body, shamelessly appreciating the view. He lets out a light sigh, not making an effort to stop me.

“Yeah.. probably should”

He mumbles, also standing up, the sheets falling from around his waist to the floor, revealing his muscular bare torso, causing my heart to drop to my stomach, as was forced to peel my eyes away.

I grab the wrinkled clothes, throwing them on me, as I tug my shoes on. A part of me wished he wanted me to stay, but at this point, I’d felt as though I’d overstayed my welcome, and was sadly prepared to never see this man again, no matter how much I would yearn for it.

He stands there, in nothing but low hung sweatpants, watching me throw on my clothes, his muscular chest on full display, showing his broad shoulders and defined collarbone.

He notices my slightly flustered expression as i look up at him. He grins, clearly enjoying the way i was staring at him, before speaking up again.

“You really in a hurry to leave, sweetheart?”

“I’ll get out of your hair, stop bothering you. Just give me-“ i huff, struggling to get my shoe on.

These fucking converse would be the death of me.

He chuckles at my frustration, watching me struggle with putting on my shoe, still half naked as his strong arms cross over his broad chest. He watches me carefully for a moment as i struggle, before stepping forward.

“Let me help you, silly”

He grins, moving to kneel down in front of me, grabbing my foot gently and guiding it into the shoe.

I sigh, pink creeping in my cheeks as he got to his knees in front of me.

“Thank you, Hamzah.” I spoke, tasting his name on my tongue, and enjoying the way it felt.

He smiled to himself as i said his name, clearly enjoying how i sounded when i said it, evident by the expression on his face.

He finished helping me put on my shoe, gently setting my foot back down on the floor. He looked up at me from his knelt position, peering up at me with a sly grin, his face now even closer to my body than before. He slowly got up, bringing me with him, as we both stood facing each other.

“No problem” He replied, his hands finding their way to my hips, his calloused palms settling on the skin beneath my cropped shirt, as I began to feel as though I might melt under his touch.

I softly gasp, a little breathless, as his fingers dance their way further up my shirt, leaving a trail of fire as they did.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, causing us to fly apart, my skin cooling as his touch departs.

He groans, rolling his eyes as the doorbell rings, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

“Stay here. I know who that is. I’ll be right back” He mutters.

He quickly disappears out of the room, heading for the front door.

I’m still stunned from our interaction, but I follow him, not listening to his commands. I needed to see who was at the door. Who interrupted our moment..

He strides hurriedly down the hall towards the front door, still in nothing but his low-hung sweatpants.

After opening the door, and then promptly slamming it shut, he lets out a frustrated sigh, turning to head back to his room to get a shirt, but stops in his tracks when he sees me following behind him.

“I told you to stay in my room” He says, his eyes brows furrowing as his brown eyes glance over me, my dishevelled state.

“Obviously I’m not gonna do that, be real. Whose at the door?” I question, my voice unwavering as I roll my eyes.

He rolls his eyes in response.

“It’s my stupid friend, Martin. He’s probably just here to gloat at me about getting with a girl last night too” he shakes his head, rubbing his hands over his face briefly.

Relief floods from me, whether i wanted it to or not.

He sighs as he says this, seemingly annoyed by the idea of his friend coming over just to rub another hookup in his face.

“I’ll uh, get to going then..” i mutter, avoiding his eyes as I fix my short shirt on my body awkwardly. I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable between him and his friend, and I knew I was outstaying my welcome.

The.. interaction we just had, was maybe just that. An interaction.

He stands in front of me, looking down into my eyes. He could tell that i was a mixture of frustrated and disappointed from his friend interrupting us both, and he felt the same way.

He reaches a hand up to brush my hair behind my ear, just like how he did earlier.

“I’ll walk you out” he mumbles, unlocking the door.

I let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding, and when he swings the door open, and his friend sees us, he smirks.

He groans at the sight of his friend’s smirk, knowing exactly what his expression was for.

His friend’s eyes dart to me as he looks me up and down, clearly taking in how i was dressed in last night’s clothes.

His grin widens as he notices my flustered expression.

Hamzah grabs my wrist, his touch enlightening me, and slides us past his friend, who enters Hamzahs apartment nonchalantly, slamming the door behind him.

Any more slams, and that door would be knocked off its hinges.

His friend lets out a chuckle that’s heard through the other side of the door, as Hamzah drags me out of the apartment quickly, obviously aware that he was annoyed with his friend’s presence, and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He keeps a firm grip on my wrist as he pulls me outside, letting out a sigh once we’re outside and away from his friend.

I sigh, looking around at the exterior of the apartment building, and recognising it. “I can walk back to my place from here..”

He pauses for a moment, letting my wrist slip from his grip. He looks down at me, his face showing he was feeling frustrated by the fact that he knew this was the end of things, and that I was about to leave.

“Are you sure? it’s kind of late. you shouldn’t walk on your own”

I smile, giggling. “It’s 11am, Hamzah.” I remind him, the daylight shining on us in the cold autumnal air.

He groans, facepalming himself at his own stupidity, causing me to let out a small chuckle, appreciating how he cared for me, however small it was, before running his hand over his face, the reality of the situation finally setting in.

He looks down at me again, his dark eyes searching mine, desperately trying to look for an excuse to keep me there longer.

The silence between us is unfathomable, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I’ll maybe see you around Hamzah.” I finally speak, breaking the tension between us, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver, his arms not there to keep me warm anymore.

Hamzah watches me wrap my arms around myself, taking notice of the light shiver that passes through me. He sighs.

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime” He mutters bitterly, knowing it’s a lie the second the words leave his teeth.

I gently lean in, kissing him on the cheek, my warm lips on his cold face, as I smile, my heart heavy in my chest, and turn away from him, walking away.

As I take those steps, I can feel the weight of what just happened lingering in the air. It was brief, yet somehow profound, like a fleeting moment that leaves a mark.

I felt as though I had a connection with him, one that just wasn’t made too last. It was a moment, that I enjoyed, and appreciated in all its glory. But once a moment passes, you must let it move on.

I glance back, my eyes locking on his, catching a glimpse of his small, subtly sad smile, a reminder of the connection we shared, however little it was.

There's a bittersweet taste in my mouth, a mix of nostalgia and the realization that sometimes, moments are meant to be just that—moments.

———————-

He watches you walk farther away, his mind spinning in circles. He stands there on the sidewalk, his head swimming with a concoction of thoughts and emotions.

He couldn’t figure out why he was so reluctant to let you go, why he felt his heart ache in his chest watching you walk away.

He wanted to run up to you, to grab your hand and tug you back towards him, but just as quickly as the thought appeared in his head, it vanished.

Gone, not just for now, but for forever.

———————-