#day when I woke up at 4 in the morning from the explosions

[ravencat35]

You got me already, trigger at every step. It is necessary for everyone who loves Russian culture to write in their bio or info "attention everyone, I'm jerk off on Russian culture" so that I immediately know who you are. And why I shouldn't follow you

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: Long Talks

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

Note: this has been in my draft for at least 2 weeks, hit a slump and then a hyperfixation couldn't write lol. so this is alot shorter and the drawings wont make as much sense without part like?? 6.5???... but I just wanted to post it cuz I felt bad

Reblogs and comments appreciated <3 I wanna hear y'all's thoughts >:3c

Red and Blue: a deep conversation filled with compassion and vulnerability:

Meanwhile Vio and Green:

(sorry I haven't updated this in a while, real life calls :')

The following days were hell. Red knew how much fights shredded his heart into a bajillion tiny pieces, but really the forced normalcy was so much worse!

The two had gotten an even bigger longer (and honestly ranty) lecture from Green the next day. Red didn't think it really helped much. Like sure they were cowed into NOT biting each other or whatever, but c'mon!

It felt like everyone was mad at everyone else! And even though technically no one was really mad at him, they were all mad at each other which- considering they were all sorta kinda not really the same person? It still felt that way!

Green had gotten really bossy and super serious, and Blue and Vio were just avoiding each other like the plague! Whenever they did come into "an unfortunate proximity" as Vio put it, there wasn't anything but a ton of silent hate! Red really just wanted to curl up into a little hole and die. Well not really! But like, emotionally! Just a bit!

Green kept pushing them to talk about the details, but neither one would talk. Red decided to try asking them one on one, you know, use his charm a bit and soften the edges- But even when he cried it didn't work! Him crying always worked! Especially when he said just the right words in just the right way to softly push them into making a realization.

Red wouldn't really call himself a manipulator in that sense, because hey! He was using his powers for good, right? At least most of the time, anyways. It was a useful way to get out of trouble and get things he wanted...

By why couldn't it work now when he needed it most!!

Vio just treated him like how a parent would to their kid when the kid just, well, asked about death or some hard grownup topic. Like Red just simply wouldn't understand and not to worry about it- But he was worrying! He knew Vio just didn't want him to be sad but still...

Then Blue- Well, Blue was just sad. And a little p*ssed. But it was clear he was just mostly sad. At least when he talked to Red anyways. At first he had been all huffy and insisted that it was all so stupid, so why even bring it up anyways? Because it was "over already!" Which, no that was super stupid of Blue to think, because obviously all their relationships were like super mega sad???

When Red expressed that sentiment though, it seemed to change something in Blue. Blue just closed up and got all quiet. He hated when Blue did that. But it also meant his plan was working. Blue may be a little, uhm, explosive to people and things when he got upset- But really if he was like actually really seriously upset? Then he got all quiet and intense all by himself. But Red knew how to pry all those layers off, even if it was just melting his way though each one of Blue's icy walls, one at a time.

Not even a day later of the guilt obviously devouring Blue inside out, and clearly losing against his ego. (Red knew that's what happened, he probably didn't want to be the "first one to show weakness" and just talk about how his feelings were hurt and acted like he was just all angry and didn't care, but Blue was a big softie and no amount of pouting was gonna change that in Red's eyes.)

They'd been walking to the training yards extremely early in the morning, the sun had barely peeked over the horizon really. In Red's opinion, going all the way to the castle to train in the big professional courtyard before the birds even woke up was probably some sort of crime against humanity. And him. But Red was so close to getting Blue to spill! SO he had to stick with Blue the whole time to make sure his plan would work. He just had to be consistent! Even if... it was at like... Red blearily squinted against the horizon. Five AM? Uegh.

Green was right about those too being similar. But it wasn't just cuz they were so stubborn. More like they were both weirdos that had a vendetta against sleep. Seriously, would it kill Blue to sleep in for five more minutes...

[toms-cherry-trees]

Story Of Us|| John Shelby x Reader

Summary: Love is not always ideal. It comes hand on hand with grief

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: Infant/maternal death, grief, teen pregnancy, angst

Author’s note: Nothin to see here, move forward to the story. This took me 2 hours to write and I didn’t proofread one bit

John had always lived in a dilemma. Ever since his dad walked out on them, he tried to get approval from his family, the one thing he never received as a child.. But he only ended up being scolded. When he had to crack the news that he had knocked up Martha, both being just fifteen years of age, Polly hit him across the head with a wooden spoon, and Arthur had to hide him from Martha’s father, who had come for him with a musket.

John and Martha knew they were too young, but they were in love the way only teenagers can be, and the only way they would be allowed together was this. With a baby and the obligation to marry to preserve Martha’s honour. They were wed three months after the musket incident, Martha dressed in a borrowed white dress which did little to hide her rounded bump, and John stuffed in one of his father’s old suits, hastily tailored by Polly. Only the groom’s family was in attendance, since Martha’s father had kicked her out of the house.  

Four months later a boy had been born in John’s own bed; a squirming, chubby thing with the most powerful lungs in the whole of Birmingham. Two more babies came in quick succession, another boy and another girl.

And then came the war.

In the time between their rushed marriage and 1914, John had managed to make more or less a living for himself. He had gotten his own home, being able at last to move Martha and the kids out of the cramped quarters of the family home. And they had a young girl from the area helping Martha rear the kids. Life seemed as perfect as it could get until the war struck and the war office came looking for them. Even though the conscription was voluntary at first, it would only be a matter of time before they came and dragged them out of their homes by their feet. John tested his luck as much as he could, even after Tommy and Arthur had already joined the front. But he had started to get dirty looks whenever he left the house, and one morning he woke up to his doorstep filled with chicken feathers. So he went, and left Martha with the kids and the nanny to hold up the fort in his absence.

None of them could know for certain how long they would be away, and it was worrisome to think it could be years before they returned, if they ever did, while the women in their lives were left to fend for themselves. Being granted leave to go home was a privilege mostly reserved for officers, and with John’s explosive nature and cockiness, he spent many months penalised without leave. The first time he managed to go home, in the second half of 1915, Martha and the kids had thrown themselves at his legs and his neck, unwilling to let him go.

In the two weeks he spent in Birmingham, he left Martha with child yet again. The news arrived with delay, as they do when you receive mail in the battlefield, and even more when said letters are heavily monitored by the officers. The letter had been sent a month and a day before it made it into his hands, but the news were not any less joyous, although tinted with a pang of guilt of not being there to support his wife. But John played his part, behaving like a good soldier for once in order to receive leave in time to see his newborn. They estimated the date for the first half of May 1916, a glorious spring.

But the thing is, letters carrying bad news move just as slow and delayed as the good ones. Even slower so, since the war office ordered anything that could tamper with the soldiers’ morale and spirits to be suppressed. John made the entire journey home, on truck, ship and train, only to find Martha had passed 4 weeks before his arrival, alongside their newborn girl. Polly had intercepted him on the train station, having seen him descend from the platform on her way from the market. The toothy grin tugging on his lips slowly fell into a frown as Pol grabbed his arm and practically tugged him into an alley to give him a resumed version of the events, but John didn’t want to hear. He didn’t care how, or why, or when. He only knew, as the ground swayed beneath his feet, that his sweet, lovely wife had left this world without him by his side, and had taken their babe with her to not be alone. Leaving John, aged 22, with a broken heart and 3 young children in the middle of a never ending war.

Polly and Tommy, who also happened to be on leave at that time, had made arrangements for everything after Martha’s passing. Polly had wanted to take in the children herself, to keep them under her wing. But when she even tried to take them out of the house, they clung to their nanny’s skirts like a lifeline, refusing to even step an inch away. Pol understood quickly that having just lost their mother and being in permanent threat of also losing their father, she couldn’t rip them away from the only stable person in their lives. So the girl, having grown deeply fond of her wards, moved into the home full time to look after them in every way a mother would, since the children had grown to love her like one.

When John returned home, he expected to find a gloomy and deserted place, with the hearth cold and empty and lamps out, much like he felt inside his own head. But of course reality rarely matches the expectations, whether good or bad. The children were laughing, playing with some wooden figurines on the carpet. Aged seven, five and three, they were already a force to be reckoned with, being able to mess a room in the blink of an eye. Yet here they were, playing happily under the caring gaze of their nanny. The four of them were startled by his arrival, with the kids scrambling over each other to jump into his arms, knocking over a chair and a side table, sending a vase with daisies crashing down. Home sweet home.

~

That night, after the kids were put to bed, John sat near the fireplace, nursing a glass of whiskey in his hands. Martha always warned him when the drinks began piling up on the table and his head; her voice whispering in his mind kept him from bringing the liquid to his lips, no matter how desperately he craved the numbness only spirits can provide.

You walked out of the kitchen, untying the apron from your waist. Most of the house chores were neglected during the day, since every waking hour was filled with rearing the little Shelbys. The oldest, David, would be starting school very soon, but you didn’t see how that would come to be, since he refused to be away from you for long. The youngest, Sarah, spent most of her day perched on your hip, although at 2 years of age she was already getting too heavy to carry. Theo, who had just turned five, acted as middle children often do, keeping mostly to himself and showing himself to be independent.

You hadn’t noticed John sitting there, since he was slumped on the floor, his head propped on the sofa and his legs splayed before him. His boots were nowhere to be found and his shirt discarded aside, leaving him only in undershirt. You would have just walked past him if he hadn’t called your name.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes Mr. Shelby?”

“Sit here for a little bit”

Perplexity was not quite the word to describe what you felt, but it came close enough. You had never been afraid of your boss; he and Martha had offered you a job when you most needed it, and they even treated you as a friend, since you were only a year younger than them. You were the one who mediated between them when things got tense, as often happened when very young people were thrusted abruptly into adult life; resentment inevitably building up on the grave of robbed childhood and dreams. And you were the one who took the kids out of the house when they inevitably made peace with each other.

But the situation had changed; the wife dead, the husband away, and you had basically become owner and lady of the home in the meantime, forced to step up for the babies you had known nearly since the cradle. Perhaps taking attributions that didn’t belong to you, but everything done with the best intentions in your heart.

You sat in the armchair farthest away from him, your body perched on the very edge of the seat and your legs laced at the ankles.

John doubted his words, still swirling the whiskey in the glass. Not a tear had left track on his cheeks, but the corners of his eyes were reddened, like those of a man who had learned, either willingly or by force, to hold back emotions.

“Were you here when…when Martha…” The phrase was left hanging in the air

“Yes I was. I had been staying full time already, in case the baby came at night”

Silence. Words slowly dawning on his mind fogged by barely contained grief.

He swallowed thickly “What happened?”

You closed your eyes and breathed in slowly. You knew he would eventually ask, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you. The desire to know something could turn almost morbid the longer the answer was denied, but you didn’t want to give the grisly details with the wound so fresh, so you hoped he would content with the shortened version.

“The baby came too early, more than a month. And then it got stuck, and the labour dragged on for too long. The girl was….born sleeping. She named her Katie. And then Mrs Shelby caught an infection” You stopped there, hoping the vague narration would be enough explanation so you could avoid the more sensible details.

John nodded slowly, his gaze only fixated in his whiskey glass “Did she…did she say anything? Before she…”

“Mr. Shelby…” You protested, not believing him ready to hear it all

“Just say it!” The words came a lot more harshly than he intended, but they had been dropped and couldn’t be taken back.

You nodded and looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your apron “She told me to look after her babies. And to look after you. She told me we should not be sad for long, because she hated sad faces and life was sad enough as it was and her loved ones had to live happy lives on her behalf. She only asked…she asked that we made sure her kids never forgot about her” Your lower lip trembled. Holding her hand as life slipped away from her had been traumatic for you as well; like watching your own older sister die under your watch.

Your last words broke something inside John. At first, barely perceptible, his lower lip trembled and his eyes glazed while he pondered over his wife’s last words. Then all of a sudden the floodgates opened, tears coursing freely down his cheeks as sobs racked his body. The glass fell and shattered, and you, always acting on maternal instinct, tried to pull him away from the carpet so he wouldn’t land his hand on the shards. But in the brief second your hands touched him, John clung to your waist in the same fashion his eldest son did when he had a nightmare. The force of his embrace pulled you down on the floor, his head burrowed on your lap and his fingers digging on the fabric of your blouse. You had no words to console him, for sometimes, there is no real consolation. So you did the best you could, which was letting him cry out his sorrow and anger in the same apron that had wiped his children’s tears; while you rubbed soothing circles in his back. John cried it all out until his tears had run dry and his frantic heartbeat stilled. Crying is usually followed by drowsiness, and before you knew it your boss had fallen asleep on your lap, soothed by the faint scent of lavender on your clothes. You didn’t want to move him and disrupt the feeble stillness of peace, so you sat there all night, your head perched on the sofa and your hand on his back, dwelling on the creaking of the fire in the hearth.

~

It couldn’t be helped, the way the bond you and John had of mere friendship morphed into something else. Ever since Martha’s passing, John had managed to squeeze pity out of the war office, being granted leave more often than others to see his children. In the meantime, you took marvellous care of them, and they loved you maybe even more than they loved him.

The way he became drawn to you may seem rushed, but it came from a place of grief. A man with his heart in tatters, finding comfort in the arms that hugged and cuddled his children. Every time he returned home on leave, his barely retained sorrow spilled out the second he crossed the threshold of his home and the memories came crashing like an avalanche. Instead of getting better, he seemed to slowly grow worse. Could it be the grief, could it be the war, seeing his children more grown and mature every time he came, or a mixture of everything, but each leave it became harder to enter his home, and at the end it became harder to return to the front.

John spent many hours of his day locked in his bedroom, splayed on his bed accompanied by a whiskey, inhaling the fading scent of lotion on Martha’s nightgown. More than once you had to threaten to break in through the window in order to coax John into coming out and eating. The children barely noticed his behaviour, far too accustomed to his absence by now, but it pained you to see him miss out on every precious second he could spend with his family, knowing well it could be the last. Not wanting to be mindless of his pain, you gave him a few days to settle and then forced him out of the shell. No one would be called to dine until he came to sit with you all; you would go out to shop alone, making him watch the kids; if one of them had a nightmare at night, you knocked on his door and made him go and lull them back to sleep. You knew it was hard for him, but this is what Martha would have wanted. She wanted John to carry on living, and that he would do, with you behind to support him.

But you never expected to catch feelings in the process. Never had you thought about him as any more than your boss and friend, not before Martha and certainly not after. But looking after him, being his strength at home, even more so than his blood family, it is hard for feelings to not get tangled in the middle. You were the one who saw him sob his eyes out over a picture in the middle of the night: the one who bandaged his hands when he beat the wall in a fit of rage over the unfairness of life, and the one who kept that little family up and running.

On one of his last leaves, in October of 1918, he had, for the first time, sat with all of you for dinner on his first back home without threats or begging. As you served the stew, John cleared his throat to call attention “Tomorrow we are going out. It is a little surprise, but I promise we will have fun”

The children jumped in excitement. It had been far too long since they had all gone out as family, and the prospect of a day out with dad was the best outlook ever. You smiled as you poured a glass for John “What time do you need the kids ready, Mr Shelby?”

“Everyone ready at 10, and I mean everyone. You are coming with us of course, it is a family day”

Your breath hitched in your throat and heat rose to your cheeks, but you just nodded, hiding your shyness behind your glass. The next day the five of you went to an apple orchard, right on time as the sweetest fruits were being harvested. The children ran rampant across the field with wicker baskets, collecting dropped fruits which they would be able to exchange at the end of the day for candy. John and you followed closely behind, both in silence but enjoying the sounds of nature and the laughter of the kids. The autumn leaves crunched beneath your feet making a most delicious sound. For a day, you could all pretend that war had never happened and life was more or less normal. At the end, the children dropped the apples in big wooden troughs, and in exchange were given toffee apples. John bought you two pints of cider which you drank together, sitting under a tree while watching the children play with other kids and trying to sneak more candied apples from the stand

“Look at that, David stole an apple” Far from being outraged, you found the situation amusing “He is your son alright”

John chuckled “Are you insinuating I am a thief, Miss (Y/N)”

“Martha told me all the tales of your youth, Mr. Shelby. Stealing candy is one thing, but stealing liquor from a bar is an extraordinary prowess” You smirked

John’s demeanour dropped ever so slightly at the name, but he was quick to pick himself up “I miss her. She should be here watching the children grow. There should be a toddler here with us, and another baby on the way”

“Missing is part of grieving” You patted his hand “It means you lived and loved. Even if you stop grieving you’ll never stop missing”

John pondered over your words, staring at the bottom of his pint “Thank you for being here…if you hadn’t been here, we would all have fallen apart. I would have fallen apart but you glued me back together out of your pure stubbornness so I would be there for me kids” John squeezed your hand “You have saved us all”

You chuckled “Saviour is a bit too far I’d say. But I am glad I could be of help. You are a good man John, and you deserve good things” It dawned on you a second too late that you had called him by his first name. The apologies were already piling in your tongue but John laughed it out “Seven bloody years it took you to call me John”

You could only join in on his infectious laughter, feeling the worries flutter away. It had been a while since he last laughed, and you took it as a sign of his healing. The rest of the evening went in a blissful blur, with you two sharing bites of an apple while he picked fallen leaves off your hair, and having to haul all three kids home in your arms, them too tired to walk. John surprised you with having stuffed his coat’s wide pockets with apples, and you surprised him in return with a homemade apple pie.

You enjoyed every day of his leave, dreading the moment he would once more part. The children had, now that they were older, come to resent his absences, and it always broke them a little to have him return only to leave, perhaps forever, over and over and over again. But one the last day, right before being due to leave, John arrived back after being out all morning, loaded with parcels and gifts. He had received news from the war office to not return to his post, for truce would be called in less than a week. The men would return home and the nightmare would be over.

“Tonight we celebrate like never before!”

Everyone received presents that day. The children received toys, John sent gifts for his aunt and siblings, and he even bought you a new dress. That night you feasted like you had never before, the evening topped with a marvellous store bought cake and the children falling asleep earlier than usual, stuffed with turkey and cake. After they were put to bed, it was only John and you before the fire, passing back and forth a bottle of champagne. The day was for joy and celebration and all boundaries had been torn down. You two were laughing just for the sake of laughter and the relief of having survived hell.

“So what happens now, once the Shelbys are back on track?” You inquired curiously “Business as usual?”

“I reckon men will be eager to vent off steam and enjoy the things they missed out. I promise the den will be up to the beams with patrons. Future is looking bright” He took a swing of the bottle, foam trickling down the side of his lip. You reached up to wipe the liquid with the back of your hand. John eyed you curiously before bringing up a far different topic.

“Have you thought about getting married?”

You did very poorly in hiding your surprise “Me? Married? Why do you ask?”

He simply shrugged “You are a lovely young lady, in the prime of your life. Surely don’t you plan on spending the rest of your days taking care of other people’s kiddos?”

A smirk tugged on your lips “Are you planning on firing me, Mr. Shelby?”

“Wouldn’t dare to, love. Just wanting to know if someone is knocking at your heart”

Oh someone was knocking at your heart at the very moment. Your heartbeat hammered your ribs, ready to escape off your chest out of your mouth. “No one is, Mr. Shelby”

Those words had barely made it out when his lips came crashing into yours, his warm hand cradling your jaw, the other placed in the middle of your back and pulling you close. His lips were soft and gentle, and his hands kept a firm grip on you. Your own hands came to lay on his chest, feeling his fluttering heartbeat under your touch. The kiss seemed to last forever and nothing at the same time. When he pulled away you were out of breath, but also wanted to keep going until time ended. When John broke the kiss, he remained close enough to lean his forehead on yours.

“I didn’t screw it up, did I?” A boyish grin played on his lips.

“Not one bit, not at all” Your index traced the side of his jaw, feeling the muscles tense as his smile widened

“So you won’t mind it I test my luck again” And just like that, his lips once more came onto yours, this time both hands on your waist as your arms came around his neck. It was funny, but in that moment you knew, after just one kiss, that you never wanted to kiss any other lips but his, nor feel any other hands’ on your waist or your hair.

You knew his grieving had not come to an end, and he would continue to love his first wife to the end of his days. But that did not mean he did not have space in his heart for you, nor that he would feel for you any less. It only meant he had lived, and would continue to do so with you.

[bigmusclenm]

Give or Take - Part 3

[Story Collection] | [Part 2] [●] [Part 4]

Bryce found himself standing in the middle of his living room, hearing a loud, bumping sound echoing through the room. Looking around in confusion, he realized the sound was coming from Mason’s room. After staying immobile for a few seconds, Bryce felt a strange sensation on his pecs, making him look down to see what it was. He was gladly surprised when he noticed his pecs were bulging so magnificently that they looked taken out of the gallery of a bodybuilding competition.

With his right hand, Bryce started massaging his thick pec, groaning softly due to how great his own touch felt. However, as delightful as the massage was, he wanted to find the source of the sound coming from Mason’s room. Bryce took a careful step and became surprised as his legs felt heavier than ever. He had no idea what was happening, but he couldn’t help but smile as he realized that the sensation was due to his muscles adding weight to his entire body.

With each step Bryce took, he could feel his body growing heavier, and the ground beneath him shook a bit more every time. With every movement, his mind became more aware that his muscles were starting to fight for space. He felt his massive thighs rubbing against each other, his lats were pushing his arms higher, his biceps made it difficult for him to bend his arms, and there was something big and heavy hanging from his groin. Bryce felt great, but deep inside, he couldn’t stop wondering what was happening. He couldn’t be that big suddenly, but he couldn’t deny that he loved the feeling.

As he moved closer to Mason’s bedroom door, he heard loud noises coming from behind the door. The sound was a combination of a loud bumping sound, and at the same time, it sounded like someone was dragging something heavy across the room. These sounds prompted Bryce to walk faster to find out what Mason was doing.

Before Bryce could reach Mason’s door, a louder sound echoed through the apartment, and the wall in front of him shook violently. Bryce stopped just a few feet from Mason’s door, and a second explosion-like sound came from inside the room. This time, the wall didn’t only shake, but deep cracks started forming all over the surface. Then, a third explosion made the entire apartment quake.

As Bryce froze in fear, the wall before him shook again, sending the door away and revealing something that Bryce couldn’t identify behind it. The wall kept trembling, but Bryce couldn’t stop looking at the skin-colored wall behind Mason’s door. As Bryce tried to understand what was happening, a loud, thundering sound made the apartment shake, accentuating the cracks in the walls even more and making Bryce fall to the ground.

****

As Bryce woke up, he panted heavily and felt his dick throbbing under the sheets. Still half asleep, Bryce removed the sheets and looked down at his body, sighing in relief because he looked just like the previous morning. That meant his math had been correct, and his body had stayed at 142 pounds. He pulled down the waistband of his pajama pants to check on his regular-sized, 6.25-inch-long dick. However, pulling lower, he noticed his balls had shrunk a lot.

“Damn it! What? Oh, crap, right, Mr. Jasperson’s balls,” Bryce said as he rubbed his tiny balls. “Fuck! I gotta fix this.”

Bryce quickly jumped out of bed and went to his bathroom to shower. His mind was running miles a second because he tried to come up with a plan to change others while also growing his own body. Since Bryce worked with numbers every day, it was somewhat easy to estimate the results of what he wanted to do. In the back of his mind, Bryce could hear a soft voice telling him that his power was supposed to bring balance to the world and not use it for personal desires. However, he decided to ignore the voice and make a plan to fulfill his own dreams.

A few minutes later, once he was ready, Bryce stepped out of his room and tried to have a peaceful breakfast, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Mason. Even though he had been mad at Mason for several months, the more he used the big guy as a guinea pig, the more Bryce enjoyed having him around and the more excited he became to see how Mason’s new body looked.

“What in the fucking hell!?!?” Mason shouted in his room, and Bryce could hear him clearly since his voice filled the entire apartment. It was evident the big guy was scared.

For about a minute, everything went silent, so a very excited Bryce walked to Mason’s door. As he approached the door, he recalled his dream, and a sense of fear invaded his mind for a few seconds. When he heard a loud bumping sound coming from Mason’s room, Bryce feared that the walls would crack and the door would burst like in his dream.

Bryce stopped hesitantly a few feet from Mason’s door. He couldn’t stop thinking about his dream, and when the door abruptly opened, Bryce jumped in fear. However, this feeling was quickly replaced by amazement and excitement as Mason came out of his room, and Bryce could finally see the results of his mischievous game.

“Bryce! I need help! Now you can’t deny there’s something wrong,” Mason said, looking terrified as he looked down at his massive body, barely contained in his superhero-themed pajamas. “Look at me! I don’t even know how to describe this.”

Mason’s pajamas were straining at the seams as his body had grown to weigh 350 pounds of pure muscle mass. Mason was worried but so amazed at the same time that he ran his hands over his chest, feeling the unfamiliar thickness beneath his fingertips. Bryce carefully watched his roommate explore his broad chest, and he couldn’t help but feel aroused at the sight.

Then, Mason’s gaze dropped to his arms, and a gasp escaped his lips as he marveled at the sheer size and definition, clearly evident even under the fabric of his long-sleeve pajamas. With every movement, he felt the new weight of his arms, and as he flexed his biceps, Mason’s eyes widened at their new size. This movement caused the fabric around his shoulders and upper arms to give way with a series of sharp rips, unable to contain Mason’s enormous arms anymore. The once snug sleeves just hung in tatters.

As Mason was in shock, a deliberate flex caused the strained fabric across his pecs to split apart along the center of his chest. The sound of tearing material echoed in the room as Mason’s massive pecs emerged, perfectly sculpted and powerful. As more tears formed all over his upper body, Mason’s nipples peeked through the gaps, and Bryce couldn’t help but feel strangely attracted to them.

Mason’s thick traps, cannonball-sized deltoids, massive biceps, thick forearms, broad chest, and thick lats—everything was on display. Bryce couldn’t take his eyes away from his 350-pound muscle beast of a roommate, and there was more to discover. As he looked lower, Bryce noticed Mason’s legs stretching his pajama pants to the limit, and the bulge caused by the big guy’s soft dick made his mouth water. When he saw the massive, soft dick chubbing up and causing more ripping sounds to echo through the room, Bryce could barely contain his excitement.

“Dude, you look great. I mean, you only need to buy new clothes. I told you last night: It’s time to upgrade sizes,” Bryce said, trying to act cool about the scene and approaching to take the remaining shreds from Mason’s upper body. “You should know that regular clothing can’t cover a 350-pound body.”

“350 pounds? What are you talking about? I weighed 190 pounds just two days ago!” Mason shouted, and he felt his dick throbbing as it started to get hard, causing more tears to appear in his pants due to his thick thighs, hardening dick, and enormous muscle ass. “Bryce, you can’t just not notice I’m too big.”

“You should’ve thought about that before signing up for the gym and working so hard to achieve this. But it’s fine; you look good and hot,” Bryce said, as he heard loud ripping sounds coming from Mason’s lower body, meaning that the pants had finally given way too, leaving Mason almost naked as his dick rose in full glory.

Looking down, Bryce saw Mason’s dick growing and hardening until it was 25.5 inches long. Mason’s jaw dropped to the ground when he noticed how big he had grown, but at the same time, it was evident he was excited. With a devilish grin on his face, Bryce took off the remaining parts of Mason’s pants from his body, leaving the big guy fully naked and in a clear state of shock.

“Now, that’s what I call a super hot big guy,“ Bryce said, and he walked around Mason to give the huge muscle ass a hard slap. “Now, you better get dressed and get ready for work. See you later,” Bryce added as he picked up his backpack, leaving Mason confused.

“What? Wait! What—what was that? You…” Mason said, evidently confused by Bryce’s actions. It was all part of Bryce’s mean way of playing with Mason’s mind, but it was clear there was some real excitement in both of them about Mason’s muscular body. “Wait… I don’t have clothes to wear, and what do I do with this?” Mason added, looking at his massive dick.

“I don’t know... jerk off, I guess,” Bryce said, winking at Mason to tease him even more. “By the way, I think you should get some bigger balls to match that dick. They’re pretty average and should be at least baseball-sized or bigger. What about grapefruit-sized? That’s like six inches in diameter? That should work,” Bryce added, and Mason turned pale.

The world stopped as always, and Bryce smiled as he saw Mason’s stats, which he knew would be altered by his recent words. Just a second later, the world restarted, and Mason was still speechless at his new size and the possibility of getting bigger balls along with the massive dick.

Bryce looked at his roommate, who was clearly in shock and approached to give him a quick kiss on the right cheek, leaving both of them confused. As Bryce walked away, he wondered why he had kissed his roommate’s cheek. He tried to forget about Mason’s body, but he just couldn’t. The impressive body remained stuck in his mind, and the kiss felt strangely good.

As Bryce walked down the street on autopilot, his mind still busy thinking about Mason’s body, he stumbled upon something big and hard. Then he heard something falling to the ground. As Bryce came out of his trance and looked up to see what it was, he saw the angry face of a big guy looking down at him. Bryce looked down to the floor and saw a cup and a white, creamy liquid spilled all over the guy’s feet.

The big muscle man turned around to face Bryce, making the shorter guy tremble in terror as he noticed the man was almost as tall as Mason and had huge muscles, though not as huge as Mason’s new body.

“Look what you did, you tiny little piece of...” the big guy said, attempting to punch Bryce’s face but failing. “I’ll teach you to be more careful when a real man is around.”

“No, no… I’m sorry, I-I.” Bryce stepped backward, trying to find a way to escape. “I think you’ll lose 100 pounds of muscle if you punch me,” Bryce added without even registering his own words, and the world stopped immediately.

Bryce sighed in relief as he saw the big guy’s fist had stopped just a few inches from his face. Bryce moved away, looked at the impressive physique of his attacker, and realized it was the perfect opportunity to teach that guy a lesson. He knew that meant his own body would shrink, but he just wanted revenge.

Looking at the guy’s stats, Bryce saw he was 6’3” and weighed 260 pounds, mostly muscle mass. Apart from the 100 pounds he had already taken, with a devilish smile, Bryce decided to make his attacker shorter by taking a whole foot from his height. Bryce also took 4 inches from the guy’s 6-inch-long hard dick and reduced his balls to 1 inch in diameter. Blinded by his power and his need for revenge, Bryce completely forgot about the consequences his actions would have on his own body.

Getting everything done, Bryce moved away from the big guy’s sight, and the world restarted, leaving everybody confused since Bryce had just vanished from their views. He only continued his walk to his workplace and let his mind go all crazy with power.

When Bryce arrived at the office, he noticed his coworkers were very different. Since Gary wore very snug clothes, the 20 additional pounds that Bryce had added the day before made his muscles bulge in all the right places. At 5’11” tall and weighing 170 pounds, those extra pounds made a big difference in the size and shape of his body. Even in the way he walked around the office, it was clear Gary was more confident. The only problem was that his clothes were barely holding on. The top buttons of his shirt were struggling to stay together due to his bulging pecs.

Wilson’s clothes looked smaller on his body, and he was also more confident. At 5’8” and weighing 154 pounds, he was about 12 pounds heavier than Bryce, and for the first time, they didn’t look like a pair of sticks greeting each other.

Finally, when Bryce saw Paxton, his eyes shot open in surprise. He looked amazing. At his 6’3” height and weighing 210 pounds, Paxton reminded Bryce of Chris Hemsworth’s physique, and it was clear the big guy was enjoying his new body. The way he moved and the way he talked shouted out confidence.

Bryce waited for any of them to say something about their new sizes, but they seemed still shy about it. It was evident they had noticed the changes in their own bodies, but since they weren’t aware of the changes in others’ bodies, they preferred to pretend that nothing had happened.

Once Bryce had delighted enough while looking at his coworkers, he asked about their new boss and was gladly surprised when Paxton informed him that Mr. Jasperson had called in sick because of some allergic reaction. Bryce laughed because he knew the real reason why Mr. Jasperson wasn’t there. The only sad part about his absence was that Bryce couldn’t shrink him even more.

“So, what do we do without the boss here?” asked Gary, who flexed his biceps on purpose to show off.

“Our regular work, I guess. Mr. Jasperson is not here, but we still have things to do,” a very responsible Paxton replied.

“I’d say we just relax and have some fun,” Wilson said, sitting on his chair, placing his hands behind his head, and, for the first time, his friends could see some definition on his biceps.

“Oh, believe me, we’ll have lots of fun,” Bryce said as he thought about his friends growing, and the world stopped. “We’re getting into the big leagues this time. I need to regain the size I took from the guy on the street. Fuck, I think I overdid it with him, but you guys are going to help me,” Bryce added, aware that he needed to give a lot of size to retain some of his size.

As good as Bryce was with numbers, he couldn’t estimate how much he needed to give to retain his current size or gain some muscle, so he decided to get everybody huge and get huge himself. Bryce started by adding 4 inches to Wilson’s height and 96 pounds of muscle to make him look pretty big everywhere. Also, Bryce gave him six extra inches of dick and doubled the size of his balls. It all sounded like a lot, but Bryce knew he needed to go big with his friends to get big himself.

Then, Bryce focused on Gary. His clothes seemed to be about to burst everywhere, but what really caught Bryce’s attention were his friend’s pecs. Bryce started by adding 100 pounds of muscles, with 10 pounds specifically added to his pecs, to see Gary’s chest blow up. Then, he gave Gary three inches of height and six inches of dick. It also sounded like a lot, but he was sure Gary would enjoy it.

Bryce’s mind was so focused on getting his friends super big to grow his own body that he wasn’t even thinking about the consequences this sudden growth would have for them. So, when it was time to change the already big Paxton, Bryce could only think of how amazing Mason looked and how good Paxton would look at that size. Bryce gave Paxton 140 pounds of muscle while keeping his height, and he also gave him six inches of dick and doubled the size of his balls.

After this quick round of growth, the world restarted, and they all continued talking about random topics. Nobody mentioned their new muscles, so Bryce acted like nothing was happening. He was already excited to see the changes in his friends’ bodies, but he knew he had to wait. Also, while he looked at Paxton, Bryce couldn’t stop thinking about Mason, and a part of him just wanted to grow him even more. His mind was consumed with desire and lust for his huge roommate.

**

Hours later, on his way home, Bryce made some quick stops to grow four random guys he crossed paths with. They were pretty skinny, and Bryce had seen them around before. They all seemed to be nice guys, so he decided to give each one of them 100 pounds of muscle and a massive bubble butt to one of them who already had a great ass. Bryce just needed to make sure he would grow as big as possible, so giving those guys some size sounded like a good idea.

Then, as he arrived at the apartment, he couldn’t hide his excitement about seeing Mason’s body again. The place was quiet, and Bryce thought Mason was still at work. He started cooking a quick dinner for himself and noticed they were running out of food. As Bryce cooked, he constantly looked at the door, waiting for Mason to walk in in all his magnificent glory. However, Bryce heard a noise coming from Mason’s room instead, making him realize that his roommate had already arrived.

“Mason, are you here? I thought you were late or something,” Bryce said, slowly opening Mason’s room with a plate in hand as an excuse to see his roommate. “I cooked you something. I-I…” Bryce became speechless as he saw a fully naked Mason in bed, half asleep, with his hands on his dick and a thick layer of cum all over his pecs and abs.

“Bryce, please help me. I-I can’t make this hard-on go away,” Mason said, almost whispering. “I’ve managed to cum because my dick is so sensitive, but it’s so hard. Please, help me,” Mason said, almost begging.

“What are you talking about? I’m not jerking you off. Well, maybe I could... no, no, no,” Bryce said, but sat next to his friend. “Just relax; it has to go soft at some point.”

“It does, but it gets hard again in a few minutes. It’s been hours, and I lost track of how many times I’ve cum during the day,” Mason said as he pulled Bryce in a hug, like trying to feel better by hugging him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think I’m radioactive, like The Hulk. I’m… fuck… I’m so horny and so big, and yet... I want to get bigger because I know you like it. I’m losing my mind,” Mason added, sobbing and hugging Bryce tighter.

“What? Well, you could always get bigger if that’s what you want. I surely enjoy the view,” Bryce said, not paying attention to Mason’s fear but only listening to his desire to get even bigger. As the world stopped, Bryce looked at his roommate and pondered for a few seconds about his next course of action. Initially, he wanted to teach Mason a lesson, but since he felt those huge muscles so tightly pressed against him, he wanted to make Mason as big as possible to enjoy the view.

Bryce looked at Mason’s stats and hesitated for a few seconds. It was clear Mason hadn’t gone to work since he was jerking off all day, which was a problem. However, Mason said he wanted to get even bigger. Bryce gave the subject some thought and finally decided to be a good friend and do what Mason truly wanted. Bryce’s desire for revenge had already been fulfilled, and now he just wanted to grow his guinea pig to unprecedented proportions.

“Okay, Mason, let’s give you what you really want,” Bryce said as he read his roommate’s stats and started giving him size everywhere.

...

[trubbishrubbish]

Having some Martina thoughts. Spoilers for the whole game below.

So, chapter 4 reveals that Martina was still alive, The execution that was supposed to kill her was stopped by Makoto and Martina no longer loves Yomi. But a lot must have happened in the background before this point, mainly when Makoto stopped the execution and what happened immediately after.

For starters, Yomi is very surprised to see that Martina is still alive, this gives me the impression that Yomi assumed his execution order was already carried out and Martina should be dead.

Why didn't he double check with any of his peacekeepers to confirm that the deed was done beforehand? Perhaps he was too distracted dealing with the master detectives in chapter 3-4, or maybe Yomi cared so little for Martina that he didn't feel a need to check if she did die. If you toss trash into a garbage bin, do you really need to see if it's actually in there? That was likely his mindset.

Yomi issued the order the night after the Aetheria Academy case. The next morning all of chapter 3 occurs than the day after that is chapter 4. So about two days have passed since he issued the order, and he was surprised to see Martina alive the night of the second day. So, Yomi expected her to be crushed in that presser machine as soon as possible.

With that in mind, when did Makoto stop the execution? Was it before meeting Yuma in Kanai Tower or after Yuma leaves Kanai Tower?

The amount of time that passed between the submarine exploding and Yuma waking up in Kanai Tower is unknown but since chapter 3 starts on the morning of the first day than we can assume a few hours have passed. During that time, a peacekeeper under Makoto's jurisdiction found Yuma floating along the riverbank, probably not too long after the explosion. He radioed the CEO about this found detective and Makoto ordered them to bring Yuma to Kanai Tower.

Makoto said Yuma was in "tatters" when found by the riverbank, so maybe Makoto stayed up those few hours taking care of Yuma so he would not die. Then, when Yuma is fully healed, Makoto waited until he woke up and walked outside the bedroom so the two can chat.

In other words, Makoto was preoccupied that whole night so he did not have any time to stop Martina's execution, that means he did it after Yuma left Kanai Tower.

But wait, how did Makoto know about Martina’s execution just in time to stop it? I don’t think Makoto has any secret cameras in Yomi’s office that recorded the conversation and Makoto stumbling upon this execution himself is unlikely. The only way is a peacekeeper that knew about the execution personally telling him about it. But what peacekeeper would notify Makoto? The peacekeepers respect both Yomi and Martina but since Yomi outranks Martina, they have no issue sending their second-in-command to death. Whoever this single peacekeeper is, they have to be more loyal to Martina than Yomi and have a personal liking to her that motivated them to report to a power above Yomi.

And I think I know who that guy is.

That’s right. The chubby peacekeeper who was very excited about getting punished by Martina was the one who told Makoto about her execution. News of Martina’s execution would spread among the peacekeepers and the Chubby Peacekeeper would likely hear of it at some point. Since he admires Martina so much, he didn’t want her to be killed, regardless of Yomi issuing the order, so he told someone higher up than Yomi that could stop it. A short time later after Yuma leaves Kanai Tower, Makoto hears about the execution from the Chubby Peacekeeper and swiftly heads over to the presser room and puts a stop to the process, saving Martina.

Supporting this, the Chubby Peacekeeper is there accompanying Makoto in the lab. Among the Peacekeepers that are loyal to Martina, him being there can’t just be a coincidence.

Maybe becuase he helped in saving Martina's life, she wanted him to be there when she confronted Yomi.

Now the last question. What happened immediately after Makoto stopped the execution order? Very simply, Makoto had a conversation with Martina, obviously in a different room away from the presser. Martina was no doubt traumatized and utterly terrified to almost be killed in an inhumanely cruel way and it be by someone she thought she loved. Makoto being a homunculus of the "world's greatest mind," therapy skills could be among his repertoire. Whatever they talked about together had major changes in Martina's behavior and relationship with Yomi.

Firstly, Martina has recognized that all the unlawful and brutal actions she committed as vice president of the peacekeepers were wrong. She feels guilty doing them and wants to resign from her position as atonement.

This is a decision she made herself. Makoto didn't suggest this and was ok with Martina still being vice president.

In addition, Martina is heard helping in the clean-up and reconstruction of Marunomon District after the flooding incident. Martina decided the best way to make amends for her prior actions is to personally help Kanai Ward and the people recover. Even in places that she wasn't involved in.

Secondly, Martina no longer loves Yomi. Makoto helped her come to terms that Yomi was abusive to her and he never truly loved her. Martina will probably still have lasting trauma from Yomi that can't be quickly undone after one therapy session, but Makoto did give Martina enough strength to face her abuser in the critical lab and shut him down.

Makoto realistically didn't need Martina here to get Yomi arrested. The file was enough, but Martina being here regardless speaks volumes. Two days ago, Martina was at her absolute lowest, completely alone and scared and knocking on death's door. And now she is face to face with her personal demon and confidently told him off and arrested him. Such a feat would not be possible without Makoto's support and being surrounded by people who actually care for her. She didn't even flinch when Yomi screamed at her.

Makoto didn't just want to stop Yomi's reign in Kanai Ward, he wanted to give Martina a chance to bolster her coincidence and get closure from her abuser.

Lastly, Martina wanted to show that she has grown from being Yomi's "right hand." She was able to arrest her abuser which is a powerful moment for sure, but that wasn't enough for Martina, she wanted to prove that she isn't just over him, she became better than him.

In the past chapters, the peacekeepers had an authoritarian rule over the citizens. They could arrest anyone over a crime when convenient and strike fear into the citizens to keep them from rebelling. A common phrase from the peacekeepers when arresting a person is:

Even Martina says this same line, and with an extra bit about begging for mercy to the corporation.

This type iron fist ruling is no doubt becuase of Yomi. He wants Kanai Ward to bow to him. He doesn't want any inconvenient truths get in the way of growing in power. He is willing to shoot people who so much as disagree with him publicly. He trains the entire peacekeeper branch to uphold this fear mongering dominance.

Martina had this similar mindset as Yomi, but once she talked to Makoto she wanted to remove this mindset from her person. That's why when Yomi is being arrested, Martina says this:

It's quite amazing that Martina is willing to treat Yomi far kinder and fairer than he did with her. This was a decision she made herself, I don't think Makoto required Martina to only arrest Yomi in a fair way. I believe Makoto would have approved of Martina shooting Yomi dead right then and there if she wanted. Remember, Makoto killed Fink the Slaughter Artist for "knowing too much" even though I doubt what he knew had anything to do with Homunculi. Makoto isn't above silencing people quickly. But Martina wanted to prove both Yomi and herself than she has become a better person than him. She has become her own person without any influence from her abuser.

In conclusion, I am so amazed and happy that Martina was given the chance to not only live but to heal from her abuser. Makoto coming in to save Martina wasn't done to help him take down Yomi, it was a selfless act to save a women who needed help and Makoto provided that help. All so Martina can have a future where she is happy and healthy.

Also fuck Yomi Hellsmile.

[dreamerofasgard]

Late Summer Melody - Oneshot

Draco joins you as you play your guitar at the astronomy tower one early Saturday morning during the first weeks of the Fifth year. Being friends for so long maybe there is something more there.

Draco x Slytherin fem! reader

Warnings: Fluff and sweetness.

Word count: 2.2k

Lyric video or Open Arms: Link here

Lyric Video For Listen to Your Heart: Link here

It was one of the last warm Saturdays before the chill of fall began to set in. It was your favorite time of year to play some music from the top of the Astronomy Tower while your fellow students enjoyed their day. Not wanting to waste any more time you got changed into a pair of jeans, a dark green tank, a black flannel, and black converses. You were lazily brushing your hair, putting on your favorite rings, and putting on some light makeup when one of your roommates woke up.

"What is it this time that you are making so much noise Y/n?" said Daphne Greengrass as she stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"You know me Daph. Gotta get a last few good sessions in before the chill sets in," you said taking a last look at yourself before getting up and grabbing your guitar.

"You and that guitar are gonna get in trouble one of these days I swear," Daphne chuckled as she shook her head.

"Okay, that was one time. I didn't know Filch was gonna be up there at 4:30 in the morning," you said thinking back to that morning two years ago. "Besides I'm sneaky and can avoid him better now."

"I'm sure you can Y/n. But what about us Prefects," said Pansy as she was leaning up against the door smirking with her arms crossed.

You turned around and put your guitar on your back before walking up to her. "Yes, Pansy my dear I can even avoid being detected by the Prefects which means that you and Draco have to try extremely hard just to find me after hours," you patted her shoulder as her face turned red and made your way out of the dorm. Before heading up the stairs you waved at Blaise and Theo before making your way out of the common room.

The walk was easy for you as this was the start of your fifth year at Hogwarts. Some of the first years were a bit weary of you since you were in Slytherin but they grew to understand that you were nothing to fear. You had been friends with Draco's group since first year but much like Blaise, you never joined in on the teasing and bullying, if anything you only had a slight distaste for the "famous" Harry Potter. Besides not like Harry's friends had any problem with you, especially because you had no issue with one of his closest friends, Hermione. She had become one of your closest friends outside of Slytherin since first year when you met on the Hogwarts Express. The two of you would always compare notes when the others were busy, after all the two top witches of their year have to push each other to be better.

"And where are you going this morning Y/n" Hermione said catching up to you as she was carrying a few heavy looking books.

"Astronomy Tower to play," smiling as you look at the Gryffindor, "Unlike you who is most likely going to spend her morning in the library until Ron gets you so you can have lunch." Hermonie just rolls her eyes a bit while blushing.

"That was only a few times last semester. Besides I'm tutoring this semester, and McGonagall thought it would be good for me to help Seamus to not blow up again," she said as you both were joined by Seamus.

"I don't blow things up that often," Seamus said as he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed.

"Tell that to Snape," you said as you began listing off the explosive events "The house elves, Flitwick, and Madam Pomfrey"

"I get it, geez Y/n," he says as he sighs "I guess I need some help," he says opening the Library door for Hermonie.

"I'll see you later Monie," you say giving her a side hug before turning to Seamus, "Don't blow her up now, you hear. I need her to keep me on my toes," you said jokingly at the boy as Hermione smiled and walked into the library.

"Knowing Hermonie she'll be fine and I'll be the one exploding," Seamus said smiling a bit before following Hermonie into the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the walk to the Astronomy Tower was uneventful as it was still quite early for most students. Once reaching the top of the tower you pulled out a stool you stashed in the storage area and began playing some cords to tune your guitar. As you finished tuning you looked out at the castle and the valley that surrounded Hogwarts smiling as this school was truly a second home to you.

You began playing and humming 'Open Arms' by Journey while thinking of all the friends you've made and a special blonde that snuck his way into your heart. You get to about the chorus as you hear a creak on the stairs behind you but you continue playing for whoever is there until the person speaks up.

"So this is where you go every Saturday morning?" Draco said as he placed another stool down next to you and sat down. "Don't stop, you play beautifully," he said as he turned to look out at the castle before taking his charms book out of his bag.

"You come up here often Dray?" you say as you nudge him before continuing with the song watching him as you play the cords perfectly.

"I started coming up here towards the end of last semester when I needed some time to myself and then I started again on my Prefect rounds when I heard someone playing the guitar at midnight," he said as you smirked while playing, "Whoever that is better be more careful if some other Prefect were to find them they'd get detention and lose house points."

"Hm wonder who that person could be," pretending to be clueless as you started playing another song 'Listen to your Heart' by Roxette.

As you start playing you get so into the music that you don't see Draco admiring you play as he always did since you played one evening in the common room.

Draco Pov

'She'd been playing guitar every Saturday since first year I always loved it when she played even when I thought that her love for muggle music was unbecoming of a person of her blood status. Can't say I deserved a punch to the face more than I did that day.' He thought as he chuckled and smiled softly while she played beautifully as always.

He had started to come up to the Astronomy Tower to try and catch one of these performances since he almost ran into her towards the end of last semester. She had been playing such a sad yet beautiful song the morning before the final task of the Triwizard tournament. It stuck with him all summer. He had to hear you play again and more than just on his Prefect rounds.

'Salazar, she is always so beautiful when she plays. I wish I could tell her how beautiful she is whenever she thinks nobody is around.' he thought to himself feeling a bit bad that he invaded your private music sessions when he came up with an idea.

Your Pov

As you made it just about halfway through the song Draco spoke up.

"Y/n would you do me the honor of singing one of the songs you've been playing up here?" he said as he looked a little red in the face. You looked at him not only blushing from embarrassment but more so because the boy you have a crush on asked you to sing one of the songs you loved.

"Are you sure? I'm not as good at singing as I am at playing the guitar," you say downplaying yourself despite being a part of the Hogwarts Choir since second year.

"I'm sure. From what Daphne and Pansy say you sing just as well as you play," chuckling as he tried his best to reassure you.

"Well, I guess I can sing one of them," blushing as the boy you've had a crush on for a better half of a year asked you to sing for him.

All Draco could do was smile, he could barely contain himself as you started playing.

"I know there's something in the wake of your smile

I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yeah

You've built a love but that love falls apart

Your little piece of Heaven turns too dark

Listen to your heart when he's calling for you

Listen to your heart, there's nothing else you can do

I don't know where you're going and I don't know why

But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye," you sing as you don't notice Draco putting his book down and taking something small out of his bag as you continue.

"Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile

The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yeah

They're swept away and nothing is what it seems

The feeling of belonging to your dreams

Listen to your heart when he's calling for you

Listen to your heart, there's nothing else you can do

I don't know where you're going and I don't know why

But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye," at this part of the song you are getting really into it as Draco smiles happily as he watches you play for him.

"And there are voices that want to be heard

So much to mention but you can't find the words

The scent of magic, the beauty that's been (beauty that's been)

When love was wilder than the wind

Listen to your heart (take a listen to it) when he's calling for you

Listen to your heart (take a listen to it) there's nothing else you can do. I don't know where you're going and I don't know why

But listen to your heart before, oh

Listen to your heart (take a listen to it) when he's calling for you

Listen to your heart (take a listen to it) there's nothing else you can do. I don't know where you're going and I don't know why

But listen to your heart before

You tell him goodbye," you continue as you look up from your guitar and smile at Draco as he looks at you with something more than kindness and friendship which makes you blush as you continue to stare into his eyes before looking back out at Hogwarts Valley.

"Listen to your heart, Listen to your heart (take a listen to it)

Listen to your heart, Listen to your heart (take a, take a listen to it)

Listen to your heart, Listen to your heart (oh, oh)

Listen to your heart (oh, ooh, oh), Listen to your heart (oh, oh, oh)

Listen to your heart (oh, oh), Listen to your heart (oh, oh, oh)," you stop singing while playing the last cords and taking a deep breath before looking up at Draco who was now holding a single white and red mixed rose while looking not only extremely happy but nervous.

"Y/n that was amazing and you are amazing at performing. This is for you," he says as he extends the rose to you as you look at him smiling.

"Thank you Dray. It's beautiful," you say smiling as you look at the rose in your hand twirling it a bit.

"This is going to sound like one of those romance cliches you and Pansy talk about but," he says at you look at him slightly confused, "it's not as beautiful as you Y/n. Your playing and your voice. Well everything about you is beautiful and amazing. Ever since we went to the Yule ball as friends a part of me has wanted to tell you how I feel about you. If you will have me I will be yours," he says as he is looking at you with love and admiration in his eyes.

"Dray I like you too," you say as you put down your guitar and grab his hand. "I didn't know you liked me."

"Well what's there not to like. You are the only girl besides my mother who was able to put me in my place when it was needed. You are smart, kind, adventurous, and dare I say better than me at quidditch." Draco said smiling while holding your hand.

"Wait did you say I'm better at quidditch than thee Draco Lucious Malfoy?" Smirking as you tease him.

"I did but that's not the point," he sighed before continuing "Will you be my girlfriend, darling?" Draco at this point looked very nervous as he waited for your answer.

"Dray, I would love to be your girlfriend," you said as you hugged him.

"May I kiss you?" Draco said as he hugged you the one person who after all these years saw him for who he wanted to truly be.

"You may." As you looked up into those gray eyes of his before both of you leaning in to kiss.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he put his hand behind your head bringing you in closer. After a while you broke apart and just stared into each other's eyes.

"So I'm better than you at quidditch eh?" You said smiling as you wanted to tease him about admitting that someone was better than him.

"I shouldn't have said that, oh I'm regretting that part now," he said while smiling at you for you were the one thing in his life he would never regret.

[realiv0]

And the new New Year’s Address (2022 into 2023):

New Year greetings of President of Ukraine Volodymyr Zelenskyy

Dear Ukrainians!

This year began on February 24. Without prefaces and preludes. Sharply. Early. At 4 o'clock.

It was dark. It was loud. It was hard for many and scary for some. 311 days have passed. It can still be dark, loud, and complicated for us. But we will definitely never be afraid again. And we'll never be ashamed.

It was our year. Year of Ukraine. Year of Ukrainians.

We woke up on February 24. Into another life. Being another people. Another Ukrainians. The first missiles finally destroyed the labyrinth of illusions. We saw who was who. What friends and enemy are capable of, and most importantly, what we are capable of.

On February 24, millions of us made a choice. Not a white flag, but a blue and yellow flag. Not escaping, but meeting. Meeting the enemy. Resisting and fighting.

The explosions on February 24 stunned us. Since then we have not heard everything. And we don't listen to everyone. We were told: you have no other option but to surrender. We say: we have no other option than to win.

On February 24, we began to create our victory. From many bricks – hundreds of other victories.

We have overcome the panic. We did not run away but united. We have overcome doubts, despair, and fear. We believed in ourselves and in our strength. The Armed Forces of Ukraine. Intelligence. National Guard. SBU. Special Operations Forces. Border guards. Territorial defense forces. Air defense forces. The police. The State Emergency Service. All our defense and security forces. I am proud of you all, our warriors!

This year can be called a year of losses for Ukraine, for the whole of Europe, and the whole world. But it's wrong. We shouldn't say that.

We haven't lost anything. It was taken from us. Ukraine did not lose its sons and daughters – they were taken away by murderers. Ukrainians did not lose their homes – they were destroyed by terrorists. We did not lose our lands – they were occupied by invaders. The world did not lose peace – Russia destroyed it.

This year has struck our hearts. We've cried out all the tears. All the prayers have been yelled. 311 days. We have something to say about every minute. But most of the words are superfluous. They are not needed. No explanations or decorations are needed. Silence is needed to hear. Pauses are needed to realize.

The morning of February 24.

Hostomel. Bucha. Irpin. Borodianka. Kharkiv.

Mriya.

Kramatorsk Station. Toy.

Chernihiv.

Mariupol. Drama Theater. The word "Children" written.

Olenivka.

Odesa. Multi-story building. Girl. Three months old.

Vilniansk. Maternity hospital. Baby. Two days old.

Azovstal.

It's impossible to forget. And it's impossible to forgive. But it's possible to win.

We stood on our feet because there was something that kept us going. Our spirit.

Defense of Kyiv.

Kharkiv.

Mykolaiv.

Chornobayivka.

Snake Island.

HIMARS.

Antonivsky Bridge.

"Cotton" pops.

Crimean Bridge.

Neptune.

Cruiser Moskva.

Russian warship.

Izyum, Balakliya and Kupyansk.

Kherson.

And we pray that there will be Kreminna and Svatove, Melitopol, all of Donbas, Crimea.

We fight and will continue to fight. For the sake of the main word: "victory."

It will be for sure. We are approaching it for 311 days.

We gave it a lot of strength. But at the moment, when it seems that you can't go any further, remember that we have already passed with you.

I want to say to all of you: Ukrainians, you are incredible! See what we have done and what we are doing!

How our soldiers have been smashing this "second army of the world" since the first days.

How our people stopped their equipment and infantry columns.

How an old man used his hands to stop a tank.

How a woman knocked down a drone with a jar of tomatoes.

How enemy tanks, armored personnel carriers, helicopters, shells were stolen during the occupation.

How we fundraised for Shahed hunters, naval drones, armored vehicles, ambulance vehicles and Bayraktar drones in several hours.

How we withstood all threats, shelling, cluster bombs, cruise missiles, darkness and cold.

How we supported each other and the state.

Everyone is important in war.

Who holds a weapon, the steering wheel of a car, the helm of a ship or plane, a scalpel, or a pointer.

Everyone who is behind a laptop, who drives a combine harvester, a train.

Who is at a roadblock and a power plant.

Journalists and diplomats, utility workers and rescuers.

All. Who is working. Studying at a university or school. And even those who are just learning to walk.

All this is for their sake. Our children. Our people. Our country.

There are no small matters in a great war. There are no unnecessary ones. Each of us is a fighter. Each of us is a front. Each of us is the basis of the defense.

We fight as one team – the whole country, all our regions. I admire you all. I want to thank every invincible region of Ukraine.

Kharkiv. Mutilated but unconquered. You proved to the enemy that being close territorially does not mean being close in mind. Kharkiv is a Ukrainian city. The hero city.

Invincible Mykolaiv. Heroically withstands all blows. The city on a wave that overcomes all storms.

Sumy city and the region. You were one of the first to feel the full-scale invasion of the invaders. Sumy region became a bone in their throat for them. Ordinary people made Molotov cocktails, burned enemy columns, took the first prisoners. Sumy region is a force.

Dnipro. The support and reliable rear of our front. You received people, you got the lives of wounded soldiers back. Despite constant barrages, Dnipro lives on.

Odesa. Sunny and friendly, now a fortress. World fortress. Which defends us and which defends the world. Feeds it by sending millions of tonnes of salvation by sea every day. Because it is Odesa Mama.

Kherson! You are heroic people! You have been under occupation for more than eight months. No news. No communication. Separated from Ukraine.

Thousands of you took part in actions against the ruscists. You did not know whether we saw it in Ukraine or knew about it. The occupiers lied to you that Ukraine abandoned you and would not fight for you. But you believed and waited despite everything. The face of Kherson is cut by fragments of shells, but the main thing is that we welcome the New Year free and together under blue and yellow flags. And therefore, we will restore everything, rebuild everything. Just like Chernihiv and Zaporizhzhia, and Kramatorsk, and Bakhmut.

Those that became a refuge for millions of Ukrainians: Rivne, Ivano-Frankivsk, Ternopil, Vinnytsia. I thank you! Those who receive and transfer millions of tonnes of aid from Europe and the world: Lviv, Uzhgorod, Chernivtsi, Lutsk. Thank you! Those who accept the evacuation of businesses, enterprises, universities: Khmelnytsky, Zhytomyr, Kropyvnytsky, Poltava, Cherkasy. Thank you!

And those who are waiting for Ukraine. And will wait. Donbas, Luhansk region, Crimea. Thanks to you, our warriors!

And, of course, Kyiv region and the city are our heart, which always beats thanks to you, all our Ukrainians!

We are all one family. One Ukraine.

This is the year when Ukraine changed the world. And the world discovered Ukraine. We were told to surrender. We chose a counterattack! We were told to make concessions and compromises. We are joining the European Union and NATO.

The world heard Ukraine. European Parliament, Bundestag, the UK Parliament, Knesset, the US Congress.

The world felt Ukraine. Ukraine in the media. In the hearts of people. At the top of Google search.

The world saw Ukraine. On the main squares in Toronto, New York, London, Warsaw, Florence, Sydney, and other cities.

Ukrainians surprise. Ukrainians are applauded. Ukrainians inspire.

Is there anything that can scare us? No. Is there anyone who can stop us? No.

Because we are all together.

It is what we are fighting for. One for each other.

The best salute for us is at the warehouses of the occupiers. The best gift is the numbers in the report of the General Staff.

We do not know for sure what the new year 2023 will bring us. But ready for anything.

New achievements? We will be happy. New hits? We will be steadfast. Continuation of the fight? We will fight. And when we win, we will hug.

Dear Ukrainians!

A few minutes remain until the New Year. I want to wish all of us one thing – victory. And that's the main thing. One wish for all Ukrainians.

Let this year be the year of return. The return of our people. Soldiers – to their families. Prisoners – to their homes. Immigrants �� to their Ukraine.

Return of our lands. And the temporarily occupied will become forever free.

Return to normal life. To happy moments without curfew. To earthly joys without air alerts.

The return of what has been stolen from us. The childhood of our children, the peaceful old age of our parents.

So that grandchildren come to visit their grandparents during the holidays. To eat watermelons in Kherson. And the cherry in Melitopol.

So that our cities are free. Our friends are faithful.

And so that our main figure and main success appeared in reports near the figure of 100,000 destroyed enemies, thousands of units of destroyed Russian equipment – it is 603,628 square kilometers. The area of independent Ukraine, as it was since 1991. As it will always be.

May the New Year bring all this. We are ready to fight for it. That's why each of us is here. I'm here. We are here. You are here. Everyone is here. We are all Ukraine.

Glory to Ukraine!

Happy New Year!

Source:

https://www.president.gov.ua/en/news/novorichne-privitannya-prezidenta-ukrayini-volodimira-zelens-80197

[static-errorcode]

but I love them both part 4

This takes place three hours after the last chapter

btw *inhales* PROFILY IS IN THIS CHAPTER SO ENJOY HIS COMPANY

Enjoy

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

Y pov:

I was at the same tree I woke up from this morning working hard to bring bacm minus...

Y: what happened to you that day? Why did you kill of them

Flashback

Plus: were here

Minus: thank God your here

Y: where's ÷?

Minus: I don't know we got separated

Plus: then how do you have his phone?

End of flashback

I started to tear up on what happened after that just thinking about it makes me choke up my tears, 15 lost her best friend who started to kill everyone, qe couldn't recover D or <, and now I'm trying to bring minus back from the dead

Then all the sudden I herd screams and a explosion

Ratio pov:

I was walking around minding my own business when I herd an explosion

I looked at where thw explosion came from to see someone screaming for help

????: HELP MEEEE

I ran tk one childhood bff Y to tell her what I saw

Ratio: Y?! I saw an explosion and...

Y: I saw but what do we do

Then six and five just zoomed in out of no where and Saved the weird blue thing

I looked at Y who's face was all orange

I could feel her heartbeat pounding ( I gave ratio Similar abilities that toff has from avitar last Airbender)

Y pov:

My heart was skipping so fast after what I just saw

I could help but blush

Ratio glared at me with a confused look

Y: u....u...you two should team up more often, cause what you did was so cool

Six and five looked at eachother the gave a death glair after

????: can you guys stop holding ms like a baby and let me down

Five: oh sorry

Five dropped the weird blue thing

I took a closer look and it looked like and profile picture?

Tbc

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

Thank you so so much to @smoken-bagel for sending me this image to use for my story

next chapter I'll add J so see you on my next post

BYE

[autumnalwalker]

Manuscript Search Tag

Thank you for the tag, @oh-no-another-idea. And nice to meet you.

My words were january, sleep, ice, lantern, & blizzard, but I fear I shall need to substitute some of them with the closest I can find.

Passing the tag on to @writingpotato07, @novel-emma, @enchanted-lightning-aes, @andromedaexists, and my usual open tag for anyone else who wishes to participate.

Your words shall be twice, trail, next, telling, & hands.

January Month: The Archivist's Journal Day 13

Twice a month - usually around the full and new moons but it can vary several days in either direction - the mists appear during the day.  And then as night falls the nighttime shades rise.  They won’t enter into homes or anywhere else free of mist, but if they find a human, living or dead, they’ll claim them and take them back to the Catacomb Depths where the dead dwell.  It’s been decades since the last time someone living was claimed.  Everyone’s taught from the time they’re old enough to walk not to venture out on a mist day.  The only times anyone ever stays out past morning on one of those days are funerals for the recently deceased, leaving the body for the shades to lay to rest at the end of the ceremony.

The two of us could only guess that no one told me because they all either assumed someone else did, assumed I had the sense to stay out of obvious creepy mist, or simply never thought to mention something that’s such a basic part of life that everyone knows so it slips into the background.

Sleep: Empty Names Chapter 4

Sullivan trails off as he realizes his friend has fallen back to sleep.  That’s fine.  They didn’t really need to hear about how he spent the night stalking and picking off everyone in the building one by one when he could have easily snuck past them.  Maybe he could have spun it as giving them all a scare that would get them rethinking their life choices when they woke up the next day - and the thought of them all waking up to the terror of finding they’d all been knocked out by an unseen assailant did amuse him - but the truth was he did it because it was a fun power trip.  Nor did his friend need to hear about the cyborg in the basement he had to disassemble because the guy didn’t have enough meat left in him to poison.  And the less said of what happened in the end with the kid and the staff the better.

Sullivan never did like lying to his friend to give stories clean and happy endings.

Quietly, so as not to wake them, he gets up to continue his nocturnal pacing.

“Goodnight my friend,” he whispers from the doorway, “and may you sleep without dreams.”

Ice: Empty Names Chapter 9 (coming this weekend)

The next big explosion comes from right under the ramp.

For a stomach-dropping second, Eris finds herself airborne.  The mind-numbing thought of landing in the water flashes through her brain and then she lands hard on the ramp.  For a brief enough fraction of a section that she wonders if she imagined it, the metal is scalding hot before icing over.  More by reflex than conscious thought, she catches the second harpoon that’s ripped free and nearly landed on her.  A several-foot wide chunk of dragon meat is still attached.

Looking back at Ashan, he seems to be standing a little straighter now in the wake of that last blast, but Cabetha’s shouting over the headset for him to stop doing whatever he’s doing before he freezes the ship over.

A sudden wet chill at Eris’s ankle alerts her to the fact that the ramp’s now slid off the dragon entirely.  Gasping, she scrambles back up toward the deck, slipping on the ice that’s formed. 

Lantern: The Archivist's Journal Day 46

Daianna’s telling me to cover my lantern already and go to sleep.  I’d best not annoy her any further.  She’s not showing it as much as Butat, but I think they’re both on edge and blaming me for the fact that we keep hearing the sounds of the Wandering God following us.  They insist that it’s not hostile to humans and that we’re not in any danger unless we go out of our way to provoke or offend it, but I’ve gotten the impression that this sort of persistent attention isn’t normal.

Blizzard Storm: Empty Names Chapter 9

“All hands accounted for?” Cabetha’s voice crackles over the headset the moment Eris sets Ashan down on the deck and then continues without waiting for an answer, “Good, we’ve already tarried too long and we still have a storm to get through.  Hold on tight.”

With that perfunctory warning, the Fluke Chance’s propellers roar to full speed and a tremendous metallic scraping sound vibrates through the entire boat.  “Oh for the love of -” shouts the captain, stopping the engines.  “Someone get down there and see what she’s stuck on!”

[travelingtheusa]

ARKANSAS

2024 Nov 1 (Fri) – A cold front has rolled in.  The temperature this morning was 51 degrees.  Brrrrrrrr!  We did laundry this morning.  Sheba has been having a hell of a time with constipation.  We have been giving her the stuff the vet gave us (laxatone).  It doesn’t seem to be working.  She gets in the box or outside and digs and digs and digs then squats but nothing is happening.  Finally, after a week of trying to go to the bathroom, she did it – ON OUR BED!  I get so mad when she does things like that.  She will leave a poop on the rug or one of the chairs around the RV.  We indulge her because she has such a hard time going to the bathroom.  At least the little turds are like rocks and don’t stain anything.  They are small and rock hard.  It must hurt just to pass them.  Until yesterday when she crapped on the bed.  Then it was loose.  Of course.  It was in a most inconvenient place.  Am I ranting?

      I called a couple of campgrounds and made reservations for after the Branson caravan.  I also called one of the campgrounds in Michigan to reserve 20 campsites for next year.  The clerk called and told me how much (it will be $115 a day for 4 days!).  I then called HQ and had Melissa call them with a credit card number.

      At noon, we drove to the town down the road and got fuel for tomorrow’s trip.  We stopped at what would pass for a strip mall where Paul got fuel, we had lunch, and we were able to pick up a few bottles of liquor.

2024 Oct 31 (Thu – Halloween) – A very powerful thunderstorm rolled through overnight.  The first thunder bolt hit like an explosion and woke me from a sound sleep.  It poured heavy for a while but lightened to slower rain by the time we got ready to leave.

      We pulled up stakes and got ready to go.  When I checked the lights, we had no brake lights or blinkers.  We pulled out of our campsite and parked over on the side.  Paul pondered the problem for about an hour.  He checked fuses, connections, and plugs.  Finally, he just cleaned the pins on the plug connecting the truck to the trailer (we had lights on the truck).  That gave us our lights back.  Given the rain, we did not want to get on the road without at least brake lights.

      We were finally on the road at 11 a.m.  It was a 4 hour drive through the Ozark mountains.  We pulled into a WalMart in the town before here to get some groceries.  The campground is not close to any towns.  We arrived at the Ozark View (also spelled Vue) RV Park in Omaha, AR, at 3:30 p.m.  The campground is laid out with 3 or 4 tiers cut into the side of the mountain.  We do have a great view of the valley below.  Unfortunately, there is very little color this year.  We have noticed that all across the country.  The fall colors just haven’t been that bright.  Most of the trees around here haven’t even turned color and those that have are composed mostly of brown leaves.  Very disappointing.

2024 Oct 30 (Wed – Caiden’s birthday) – Our grandson turned 11 today.  We gave him a laptop that can do animations.  He has a youtube channel where he is already creating animations.  I hope this launches him on a lucrative career.

      We drove to town this morning for breakfast at the Blackberry Café.  We saw it on our trolley ride yesterday.  The food was very good.  Then we walked to the trolley stop to see what time the trolley would come by, intending to ride it across the bridge to Little Rock proper.  It wouldn’t come for another 20 minutes.  Instead of waiting, we got in the truck and drove to the Historic Arkansas Museum.  We paid for a tour of historic buildings.  Back in the early 1900s, a woman campaigned to save 3 city blocks of original buildings.  She envisioned them staying as the city grew up around the area.  She was a good visionary!  Then we went into the museum and walked around.  All the displays were about the crafts people made, pictures they painted, and other artifacts they created.  It didn’t hold much interest for us.

      When done at that museum, we walked down the street to the Old State House Museum.  It was the first capitol building in the city.  Although it has 3 floors, we were only allowed to tour the first two.  There were very comprehensive storyboards that wound through various rooms telling the story of how the state of Arkansas got started and all the shenanigans that took place among the politicians.  When the building got too old and small, it was abandoned for a bigger building.  The old state house was used for several purposes, then just closed up.  The city finally did a renovation and opened it as a museum.

      We walked back to the truck and drove around.  For a capitol city, it seems very empty.  There is not a lot of traffic or activity, other than construction.  It looks like they are trying to fix the city up.  There are many old and crumbling buildings and the streets could use some smoothing out.  We never saw one homeless person.  Then we stopped at Wendy’s for lunch and returned home. 

      I-30 runs right through the city and it has been a major construction project for years.  It looks like they have just finished it.  The deck and roadway are brand new.  They are still working on cleaning up the entrance ramps. 

2024 Oct 29 (Tue) – We walked into town for lunch at Skinny J’s (it was about 3/4 of a mile).  It was an interesting place and the food was decent.  During our walk around, we saw a trolley (they call them streetcars).  Walking over to the information board, we saw that it was free and ran through both North Little Rock and Little Rock proper.  So we got on and rode the entire route.  The driver was very informative and told us about a lot of things around both towns.

       One of the interesting things was a large mural on the side of the building.  It was a picture of dogs.  When I asked about it, the driver said that North Little Rock was kind of a seedier side of town and the Little Rock people used to describe the area as Dogtown (meaning to be derogatory).  However, the north guys said, “Yeah, we like dogs.  We can be Dogtown.”  So they happily adopted the moniker.

      Another thing we saw on our ride around was a museum and the Old State House Museum.  We will go back there tomorrow.  Later this evening, we walked across the President Clinton River Bridge to see if we could get a nice picture of the sunset.  Sadly, all the buildings were in the way and there were no clouds to show the color.  Maybe tomorrow.

2024 Oct 28 (Mon) – We packed up and left Yazoo City, MS, at 9:25 a.m.  We had an uneventful 4-hour drive to North Little Rock.  We have stayed here at the Downtown Riverside RV Park.  Our campsite is right on the Arkansas River as a back-in with a full view out our back window.  We have FHU.  There is a laundry here.  We did not have to check in to the office upon arrival – our packet was in a pocket outside the office on the deck.  There are 5 bridges right here on this section of the river.  You can walk across two which used to be railroad bridges but have been converted to pedestrian bridges.  The one closest to us goes over to the William Clinton Presidential Library and Museum.

[todos-los-30]

Someone said to me if I went past seven black gates, I would see the seven gates of hell. I thought it was a myth at first, until I tried it out somehow accidentally but somewhat intentionally. I went past seven black gates around my neighborhood, then when I went to sleep, my dreams were of a furious fire. It stopped, and there was a man, tall and bulky. His eyes were rather squinted, showing his age, and his legs and hands were thin and looked as if they could barely support his weight. He spoke with a scratchy and dying tone, saying, "Emoclew ot eht neves setag fo lleh." Chuckling, he opened the gate. My whole body became numb, and I was unable to fight it as it moved on its own. Struggling did not work. Without any control of myself, I went through the first gate.

Gate 1 - I saw fire, and corpses that were horribly mutilated, desecrated, and burnt. They were sobbing so loudly that I couldn't even hear the crackles of the fire. One came to me, with one eye and bullet holes all over him. He said, "We are the desecrated corpses who did not get a proper burial. We are to stay here till the judgement day." I went past him and to the 2nd gate. It was in a building.

Gate 2 - I was in a dungeon. There were people tied up, screaming in pain. One was being sawed in half very slowly, his body repeatedly healing, ready to be sawed again. One was in an iron maiden, with the door being opened and closed, but never causing any visible harm. A man in an executioner's mask said to me, "We are the torturers tortured by our own devices." I went past him to the exit, towards the 3rd gate.

Gate 3 - This time, I was in a forest. It was silent except for a few yells. There was a man hanging from a noose. Another man fell off a cliff, reappeared, and fell off again. I began running away from a horribly burnt woman chasing after me. I already knew what this one was. These were the people who committed suicide. I ran through the 4th gate, which was in a palace.

Gate 4 - Suddenly, I was in the palace, surrounded by emperors, politicians, and really wealthy people. An emperor was being gnawed on by lions. When the lion ripped a limb off or slashed him, the appendage grew back and the injury healed. A politician was being beaten by what looked like shadows in prisoners' clothes. A man in a suit came to me and said, "We are the corrupted people. The people who used our power to help ourselves, not others." I walked to the next gate, the 5th.

Gate 5 - I was in another room. There was a man tied up on a bed, being lashed by floating spiky leather whips. A woman was being burnt by a lighter, but her screams and cries were muffled by a cloth that was used as a gag. A rather large man came up to me and said, "We are the rapists and the sex offenders, paying for our crimes on earth." I ran to the 6th gate.

Gate 6 - I was in another room. A man and woman were being stabbed, their wounds healing almost immediately just like everyone else. Another person was being buried alive, and someone else was being hit and jabbed with a floating metal bar. I knew who these people were - murderers, being harmed the way they killed their victims. The exit was the 7th gate. "The final one. This nightmare is almost over. It's almost over," I said to myself.

Gate 7 - I was outside. There was a man wearing a shroud over his head coated with explosives. He blew up, regenerated, and blew up again. Another one was being beaten, stabbed by sharp metal objects, and burned by torches, lighters, and matches. They were held by people who looked like shadows. One of them came to me and said, "They are the mass murderers, the terrorists, the suicide bombers. I am a shadow of one of their victims, beating them and taking revenge for killing us on earth." I ran to the exit.

When I woke up in the morning, I became horribly scared. The images of what I saw ran through my head. In fact, that was all I could think about for the whole year. It became Halloween again, and I didn't dare go outside at night. I just went to bed. It took me a while to sleep. When I did, I was in front of the first gate of hell. There was a teenager like me, staring at me. He was shocked to see me. My body became numb, and I could not control myself again. I said to him in a scratchy, dying tone, "Emoclew ot eht neves setag fo lleh." I chuckled and opened the gate for him. After he went inside with an expression that looked like he was fighting something and struggling, I looked at myself in the reflection of a goblet, filled with what looked like blood. I saw the gatekeeper. I became the gatekeeper. In fact, I am the gatekeeper.

[thephoenixandthecrocodile]

First Ten Lines

I'm borrowing this from @vcaudley because it looked fun (you're also going to find out I'm terrible with titles). Please join in, everyone, if you feel like it.

Rules: share the first sentence of your last ten stories. If you haven't written ten stories, share as many first sentences as you have.

My Dearest Christine,

Alistair's Clock Tower strikes three in the morning, breaking the steady patter of a chilly winter rainstorm, and I just finished editing the first chapter of an accused war criminal's memoir. (Kingsley - current project)

2. Quentin swore that when he found Alex, he was going to kill the little shit for making him take a flight to the last ex he ever wanted to see. (Quentin and Oisin)

3. Alex loved their family, but they had no time for parties, especially not today of all days. (Alex meets Christine)

4. The thirteen conspirators finished explaining their proposal and Rashid, the Chrysanthemum Prince of Sundara, stood before them in disassociating shock. (Demon Book)

5. They needed a host. I was burning away. We never expected to survive. (Firebird, which you can read in the charity anthology My Say in the Matter)

6. Tabassum hated the man sitting across from him. (the giant scorpion book)

7. Ruslan rested his fingers against his temple as he looked the cockroach like alien over. (Yusupov and Marinov: Death Train (with Roaches))

8. Thomas was grateful Oisin wrote out exact directions on how to get from the house he was staying at to Oisin’s own nightclub: the Bohemian Dreams. (Rhapsody in Green)

9. Explosions tore the air apart, causing the thick X’thalian glass to tremble behind metal shields as plaster fell from the ceiling, shattering against the tiled floor. (Princess Thalia and Koschei the Deathless)

10. Anuarbek woke Rashid up at 5:00 in the morning out of sheer excitement, the normally reserved seventeen year old reverting to an overenthusiastic child. (A Shave)

[elliebear666]

It's 4 am and I woke up at 3:50 in the morning. I've been waking up every single goddamn night around 3-6 am. This is because my psychiatrist, due to Zyprexa causing constant hunger and weight gain, changed me to a different antipsychotic.

However, thanks to this change, I've lost almost 20 lbs. But the waking up every night is difficult and I'm worried it will push me into a depressive or manic episode/exacerbate personality symptoms.

So, anyway... things I've noticed after 8 years of therapy:

1. I still deal with "splitting." You're good, amazing, perfect, the best thing in my life, I want to talk to you all the time to: You're a worthless piece of shit and I hope you fucking die and rot in the heat of the sun. I hate you so much I would laugh if you died. Sometimes, these thoughts spill into my world when I just spew horrible shit from my mouth or fingertips. I have said... horrifically awful things to people when I've split on them. Tbf, these days, I'm mostly splitting on favorite persons or family and it is usually less often.

2. I still occasionally have explosive anger/rage outbursts, almost get into physical fights, get tunnel vision over internet fights, have difficulty controlling my anger. It is not nearly as bad as before, though. I used to constantly blow up, and the people in my life told me they felt like they were always "walking on eggshells." Which makes me feel incredibly ashamed and guilty… I've had anger and rage problems since I was little.

3. My relationships are still stormy and intense, and either involve me becoming initially completely and utterly infatuated or obsessed and "falling in love" at the drop of a hat, or eventually becoming obsessed. Not in every potential relationship, but the vast majority. I get jealous and insecure and constantly fear abandonment, which can lead me to seeking reassurance and validation that I'm valued in the relationship. Which, apparently, is difficult to deal with. At least my jealousy isn't as bad as it used to be. It used to be… BAD BAD. It caused me to act in very possessive ways that were detrimental to the relationship and hurt my partners.

4. I still have paranoia and paranoid ideations when particularly stressed, and sometimes just in general. Something happens in my life and my brain automatically looks for patterns of why this "isn't a coincidence." It's led me down some dark rabbit holes. A few years ago I spent months looking for cameras in my room because I was so stressed out by a flying monkey situation and wondered if they had put cameras in my room lmao

5. I still dissociate. It isn't as severe as it used to be. I used to like… spend days not even there. I'd just wear a placid and empty expression as I swam in utter nothingness. I'd watch myself from afar, feeling like I was living life from behind a thick, foggy glass window. I felt like I wasn't real, I felt like nothing was real, and wondered many times if I was just asleep and when I'd wake up. Due to dissociation and just generally not being present most of the time - not even related to dissociation - I haven't made a lot memories… which can make me feel like I have no history, that my life is this strange sequence of events that I only partially partake in.

6. I still feel empty. It isn't NEARLY as bad as before. Like… my god, I used to do anything and everything I could to fill the emptiness. Sex, drugs, impulsive road trips, hurting myself, alcohol, buying things, binge eating and then feeling ashamed and purging. I would get into relationships and situationships just to assuage this crippling emptiness whose existence stifled most of the joy or passion in my life. I felt like a hollow shell of a human being and, at one point, toldy therapist that I felt like, if I took a knife to my wrists and cut myself open, there would he nothing beneath my skin. Just an agonizing, echoing emptiness. I had to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING to distract myself from how utterly and completely hollow I felt on the inside. It was just… my god. I cannot express the amount of suffering I experienced due to constantly feeling empty…

7. My impulsivity is vastly reduced. I used to like… all the time anything went wrong, or I felt too empty, or bored, hurt, angry, etc. do something incredibly impulsive to soothe those intense emotions. Whether that was buying things I shouldn't have, binge eating, drinking alcohol and using drugs, having sex with a bunch of different partners, or jumping into relationships. It was all very self destructive.

8. My sense of self used to be borderline nonexistent. I didn't know who I was or what I wanted out of life. I changed my opinions and goals and likes often as I relentlessly chased something resembling stability. I felt like I became the people I was around - my mom used to comment, in a worried way, that it was like I, in a way "became my partners." She said it was upsetting and scary. I was an empty chameleon, desperately trying to find love and acceptance. I would reinvent myself every once in a while, though not to the extreme, usually in the form of changing how I would dress or act. Now, I feel like I have a more concrete sense of self. It isn't constantly shifting, even though I still feel directionless and don't know what I want out of life or, in some ways, who I am. Like… I wonder sometimes if the personality I'm projecting is even me or just another persona that I'm wearing. I'd like to think that I'm me now, but sometimes I wonder….

9. Self harm and suicidal ideations and threats… golly gee willikers. I used to hurt the shit out of myself. I'd cut myself, burn myself, punch myself, hit my face and body. Even while I was working, I'd cut myself in the bathroom… I threatened countless times to end my life over… oftentimes situations that didn't warrant such a reaction. Then, after most breakups, I would become extremely suicidal, thinking I was an evil piece of shit that deserved to be "abandoned" or I would feel that I had been mistreated and would react with rage. Most of the time, I would default to self harm and suicide attempts/ideation even if I was initially angry. I got locked up a few times after the breakup that happened a few years ago. Got put in the back of a police car once and brought to the mental ward and had my family threaten me with lock up… god, idk how many times lmao. I've been hurting myself, in one way or another, since I was a teen. These days, I'm not hurting myself much. I burned myself about 6 or 7 times after a guy rejected me, and fell into a deep depression, planned my suicide, would drink constantlying, etc. But I haven't harmed myself in months :)

10. Intense emotional swings. So… I have always been a very intense and emotional person. Since I was little, I felt like, sometimes, the emotions inside my little body were too big for such a small vessel. As I aged, my mood became increasingly erratic and unstable. It got VERY bad while I was working. I would feel one intense emotion over some trigger, and would experience a prolonged episode after the fact. It would feel like… if I was angry at a situation, I would be infuriated, homicidal, shaking with rage. And then I would shift to elated joy and euphoria that felt like I was having a manic episode. From there, I would go anywhere. Sometimes into a deep and dark despair, to feeling like I was agonizingly alone and rejected or abandoned. I feel like… I just was always in pain tbh. About one thing or another. I feel like I was horribly sensitive to the world around me and every little thing would elicit an extreme reaction. So, before I got diagnosed bipolar, I told my old psychiatrist that I was experiencing what I believed to be "rapid cycling bipolar symptoms." However, bipolar doesn't cause extreme emotional responses to everything all day. I could go to work feeling on top of the world, then go from that to despair, anger, infatuation, insecurity, or any of a plethora of emotions, and each one was just… a huge wave of feelings. It became absolutely and completely exhausting. I was exhausted by my changes in mood. These days, I'm not reacting as extremely as I was to every little thing. I'm not always in as much pain, I'm not constantly shifting emotional states and moods. I feel like I've found, in some ways - as long as literally nothing goes wrong lmao - a sense of stability. I'm still intense, but my reactions are not as severe as they used to be and my moods are not CONSTANTLY reacting to every little thing in my life.

11. Abandonment. I touched on this to an extent… but this will go into it in more depth. So… I have had a fear of abandonment and being left alone since I was little, but it was mostly about my mom. As a teen, and as I developed bonds with friends, I began to worry about being left by my friends. As I got older and became more interested in relationships, despite having issues with dysphoria and sex and intimacy, that fear of abandonment and rejection sensitivity became overwhelming. In any rejection scenario, I have frantically and pathetically tried to prevent what I perceived as "abandonment." I would develop these very intense and all consuming bonds with people and often come to believe that the relationship was closer and more intimate than it really was. In relationships, I would hurt myself or sometimes say I might hurt myself when faced with abandonment. Not an idle threat, but a real and true possibility and, often times, an eventual reality. It's been bad throughout my adult life, specifically, but it was horrendous with the girl I dated a few years ago. I was jealous, insecure, possessive, and constantly feared that she would abandon me. However, my unstable disposition, my anger outbursts, jealousy and insecurity served only to drive her away. As the relationship was coming to an end, I became increasingly erratic and frantic as I tried to convince her I was worth it. I begged, I stalked her in an attempt to her to talk to me, I sent countless texts, emails, made new phone numbers to contact her, snapchat, tumblr. I harassed her for months… and I feel so fucking guilty and ashamed that I have tortured myself with self-harm and physical and emotional self-flagellation. I went to insanely extreme lengths to prevent this abandonment. I pretended I ran out of gas on a road trip, I can't even remember everything I did. It was absolutely fucking crazy and toxic and scary and bizarre. I tried to kill myself in this one incident and desperately called her friend crying and screaming… I'd taken a lethal dose of psych meds and… my god I just… I feel so fucking ashamed. I hated myself. I wanted to kill myself over this unhinged behavior. I'm sorry… I truly, truly am sorry. I wish I could take it all back… but fucking can't. I'm sorry. I didn't… I don't think I really realized how bad things were getting. I didn't realize what the effects of my undiagnosed BPD was going to do to anyone. I couldn't even think past my own pain and suffering and extreme emotional problems and issues with self-regulation. These days, it's still a issue. It isn't NEARLY as severe. It's bad but… not AS bad. I still get frantic when I fear I'm being abandoned, I might beg and plead, I will act out impulsively in some misguided attempt to keep them close. But more often than not, this serves to push others away, not keep them close. It definitely has not gone to the extreme lengths of the past. I hope it never does again. I will make sure I don't get that bad again.

So… at this point, I feel like I'm so much better than I used to be. But like, things aren't perfect. And I worry sometimes I will continue to have these issues for many years to come. I'm not sure what to do about dismantling every maladaptive pattern and dealing with extreme reactions to life events, fears of abandonment, emptiness, anger and rage.

I want to be better, entirely. But sometimes I wonder if better is more a state of mind than an actual state of existence.

[yelenasdiary]

To Tell A Story

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff X Fem! Reader.

Summary: Natasha blames herself for you getting seriously hurt in a mission, you assure her it was the best thing that could’ve happened.

Word count: 0.6K

Warnings: mentions of death and pain

Type: Slight angst. Fluff

Natasha woke up before you, she laid there watching you sleep, peacefully. Her mind gave her flashbacks to the day that almost took your life. Blaming herself for not getting to you sooner, the marks of history left of your body. Her finger softly traces over the many scars that marked the right side of your body. Watching her finger following the marks, tears built up in her eyes as the flashbacks of you being in intensive care soon flooded her mind. Seeing you like that crushed her, she would wait by your side day in, day out, waiting for your eyes to give her the butterflies you didn’t know you gave her. 

You were lucky to even be alive. Falling 4 floors of an exploding building after being a little too close to an explosive crushed your right side from your ribs to your feet. Natasha was the one who found you under all the rubble, she never stopped. Clint tried to tell her that you were gone and even if she did find you, the chances of you being found alive were slim. 

It took a long and hard few months to accept that you’d never be able to help the rest of the Avengers in combat again. That didn’t mean you were completely useless to them, they helped you find another important role to help them. 

You stirred in your sleep when you felt Natasha softly press a kiss on your shoulder, slowly waking you. “no-no, go back to sleep” she whispered. You could tell she was crying. Opening your eyes and turning to her, “what’s wrong hun?” you spoke, breaking through your morning voice. “Nothing, it’s fine” Nat replied, still tracing her fingers over your body. “Talk to me” you replied. 

Nat took a moment to gather her emotions, “I blame myself for this, I shouldn’t have run off when I did, if I stayed then you would still be able to come with us, you’d still be able to do the things you said you wanted to do without that” your eyes followed hers to your cane. “Nat, I think otherwise” you turned your eyes back to her as tears fell from her eyes, wiping them away with your thumb “Do you think that if everything went smoothly that day, that we would be here, like this, right now?” you added. “You almost died; I can’t forgive myself for that”. You pulled her in softly as she broke down more in the crease of your neck. “Believe it or not, but it was the best thing that has happened to me” you held her, kissing the top of her head. “What?” she looked up at you. “It gave you the courage to tell me how much you love me, something I wished so much to happen one day. I was always too scared to tell you that everything about you makes me weak, your smile brightens my day, your eyes tell me that everything is okay, your laugh is my favourite song, your strength blows me away every day. Natasha, you are everything to me. I just never knew how to tell you. So when you held my hand tightly when I woke up and whispered those 3 little words to me, I knew right then that you were the one keeping me here” you rubbed her back gently, feeling her sink into your touch. “And all of this” you pointed to the countless scars on your body, “is how we tell our children how their mother brought me back to life” you smiled softly. 

“Our children?” Nat smiled at you in awe. “One day” whispered. “I love you” Nat followed, leaning up and kissing you softly.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova |

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

[the-bau-quinjet]

Is that my sweater?

Summary: When lounging around the compound, Steve wears a lot of sweaters. When he's on a mission, you "borrow" those sweaters.

Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut, some cursing probably

Word Count: 2284

a/n: I needed some fluffy Steve Rogers in my life today.

Masterlist

You're not sure when it started, but when Steve is on a mission, all you do is worry. It's easier to control when you're on the mission with him or even on a mission of your own, but when he's gone and you're in the compound?

All you do is worry.

You could barely even sleep. That is, until you found a semi-decent solution.

Before the last mission Steve went on, the two of you were arguing about Harry Potter. He had the audacity to say the movies were better than the books, which is categorically untrue.

Unbeknownst to you, he was just trying to get a rise out of you because he likes the way your face scrunches up in annoyance.

Anyway, he followed you to your room when you stormed out of the kitchen, not wanting you to be mad at him while he was gone. He carried his sweater in his hands, having taken it off while cooking, leaving him in a white t-shirt.

When he got to your room, he dropped it on a chair so he could grab your hands to truly convey how wrong he was about the books and movie situation.

When he was called for the mission, he left the sweater behind, leading to your so-called-solution for sleeping while he was away.

The idea hit you one night when you were physically exhausted, but mentally couldn't calm down. You rolled over, trying to get more comfortable when you caught sight of his sweater on your chair.

In your sleep deprived state, you shuffled over to grab it, throwing it on over your own pajama shirt before returning to bed.

You were enveloped in his scent, easing the nonstop worry long enough for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, you told yourself it was a one time thing. It only happened because he left the sweater there. You were just worried about your best friend. It didn't have to mean anything.

Those were all lies.

The next time he left on a mission, you were quick to find you couldn't sleep again. Your thoughts kept returning to his many sweaters, causing you to sneak into his room to steal one to sleep in.

Every time he left while you were still at the compound, you would "borrow" a sweater from his closet, returning the previous one you had to his laundry basket.

You figured he would never find out. He owned so many sweaters, he wouldn't notice when one was dirty even if he didn't wear it.

Oh, how wrong you were.

-

"Y/N, welcome back!" Bruce greeted you as you walked into the lab, having returned from a mission late last night.

"Thanks, Banner!" You looked around the room, surprised to not see Tony. "Where's Tony?"

"Oh, he's on a mission. They left a day after you, should be back on Sunday." He replied, not taking his eyes from the tech he was working on.

"They?" You questioned, trying to think of who you had seen around the compound since returning.

"Yeah, Tony, Bucky, Nat, Wanda, and Steve." Again, his eyes remaining glued to his project, not realizing the way your face fell at the mention of Steve being gone.

"Five of them? What happened?" You tried to mask the worry that was already creeping in, threatening to take over.

Bruce finally looked up, surprised you hadn't heard about the explosions.

"There was a series of explosions in Baghdad. Intel suggested it was all to assassinate one man, but multiple bombs were used to divert attention."

You nodded, trying to take in the information. "Any leads?"

Bruce's expression turned grim as he nodded. "Hydra."

You felt your heart drop even further as you now fully understood just how dangerous the mission was. No wonder they needed the five of them.

You nodded in response before muttering something about going to the gym, needing to leave the lab so you could worry in private.

Since the compound was nearly empty, you ended up going to the gym as you said. You managed to distract yourself for a few hours, but there was still 4 days before they were supposed to be back.

That night, you snuck into Steve's room, borrowing another sweater to snuggle up in for the next few nights.

-

Friday morning, you woke to somebody knocking on your door.

You couldn't really be mad since it was already almost noon, but it was still mildly annoying to be disrupted from your limited sleeping.

In your hazy morning fog, you got out of bed to open the door. Your grumbling about being woken up died on your tongue when you realized just who was on the other side.

"Steve!" You jumped into his arms, ecstatic to see him after worrying so much. "I thought you weren't supposed to be back until Sunday!" You squeezed your arms around him tightly, unwilling to let go even when your feet returned to the ground.

"Yeah, we got done earlier than we expected." Steve graciously returned your hug, thrilled to see you after nearly two weeks apart.

After a few reassuring words that the mission went well and he was uninjured, you finally stepped back from each other.

"I was wondering if you wanted to join me to watch the next Harry Potter-" He abruptly cut himself off as he took in your appearance. His brows pinched together in confusion. "Is that my sweater?"

You instantly froze. In your sleep fogged ming, you had forgotten to take off his sweater before answering the door. You could feel the blush warming your face as you tried to think of a way out of this.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" You gave him a nervous smile, trying to avoid admitting the truth.

He laughed, although still confused. "Not really, no."

You sighed, before reluctantly confessing. "Yeah. It's your sweater."

He waited, as if expecting you to willingly explain why you had it, before he eventually asked the question you were dreading.

"Um, why are you wearing it?" He coughed, a slight blush growing on his cheeks as he looked you up and down again.

Your mind raced trying to come up with a good reason for you having his sweater, but you couldn't think of anything but the truth.

You threw your hands up over your face, avoiding all eye contact as you blurted out, "I was worried about you."

He waited again, before gently prompting you to continue. "So..."

"So, I broke into your closet and stole your sweater to sleep in because it's the only way I can get myself to calm down enough to sleep while you're on missions." You gasped, covering your mouth as you realized what you just admitted.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he sputtered. "Missions? Like multiple? You've, uh, you've done this before?" His face grew redder at the thought of you sleeping in his clothes.

You nodded, hands still over your mouth to prevent any other unfortunate confessions.

"Um, since, uh since when?" He cleared his throat, trying not to sound to giddy.

"You remember when we had the Harry Potter movies versus books argument?" You moved your hands away from your face just enough to talk, before quickly covering your face again to hide your embarrassment.

He nodded, thinking back a few months.

"You left a sweater in my room when you were called away on that emergency mission and I just..." You gestured with your hands, not wanting to actually say it out loud.

Steve was completely speechless. You worried about him enough to want, no need to sleep in one of his sweaters when he was gone?

The only word he could manage to get out was a whispered, "why?"

You shrugged, repeating your earlier statements. "Because I worry about you when you're on missions."

"Yeah, but why?" He was having a hard time comprehending what this actually meant. He meant why did the sweater help, but you took it as a question of why you worried.

You shrunk in on yourself, avoiding eye contact again.

"I, uh, well you're my best friend, and I, um, care about you..." You trailed off, not sure you were entirely ready for your feelings to be out in the open.

"Enough that you worry so much you can't sleep without my clothes?" Steve was so bewildered, he was barely thinking. He was definitely not controlling his tone of voice. The question came across to you as harsh and annoyed.

In your eyes, he was clearly upset with the situation. The only logical reason you could think of for him to be that upset is if he knew about your feelings and didn't reciprocate them.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you hastily removed the sweater, leaving you slightly chilly in just your tank top and shorts. The chill sent a new wave of emotion over you, anger replacing the sadness at how harsh we was being with you.

"Yeah, I care about you, asshole. Hell, I think I'm in love with you." Despite your mumbling, he could clearly understand what you said. His eyes went even wider at your latest confession.

"I'm sorry I took your clothes." You threw the sweater at him, grabbing a sweatshirt from your desk. "If it helps at all, I only ever had one sweater at a time." Your bitter tone did not go unnoticed by Steve.

"Y/N, I..." He paused, still overwhelmed by finding out that you loved him too.

Your eyes quickly softened, the brief angry stint ending. You couldn't be mad at him for not feeling that same way. It wasn't fair. You would just have to move on.

"Steve, it's fine. I'll get over it." You brushed past him into the hallway, deciding to drown your sadness in junk food from the kitchen.

Steve stood frozen, watching you walk away and wondering how that went so poorly.

-

When you made it to the kitchen is was thankfully empty. You dug around for a few minutes, looking for something that would make you feel better, ultimately settling on a package of Oreo's and a glass a milk.

For some reason, it's always been a comfort food for you, reminding you of being a kid and having no real problems.

A few stray tears fell down your cheeks, but you hastily wiped them away. You would resign yourself to cry in the comfort of your own room later.

A few minutes into eating your Oreo's, nearly everyone appeared in the kitchen.

You honestly should have expected it since it was pretty much prime lunch time.

You did your best to put on a happy face as you ate your cookies, not really joining any conversations but nodding along. A few minutes later, everyone settled around the room, eating various things and having separate conversations.

You had just finished your cookies and rinsed your glass when Steve ran into the room, a look on his face that could only be described as desperate.

"Whoa, slow down there Capsicle. Where's the fire?" Tony joked, earning chuckles from a few people.

Steve ignored him as his eyes scanned the room, settling on your frozen form by the sink.

"Cap, you good?" Sam questioned as everyone grew more concerned with his behavior.

Again, Steve ignored him. He took four large steps around the island before coming face to face with you. You took a deep breath, really not wanting to have this conversation in front of literally everyone you work with.

"Steve, wha-"

He cut you off by pulling your head to his, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

You froze at first, but quickly leaned into his embrace to deepen the kiss.

He pulled back, much too soon for your liking, to stare into your eyes.

"Y/N, I honestly have no idea what just happened in your doorway. I think my brain malfunctioned or something, but please believe me when I say I've been in love with you for months."

A blush painted your cheeks as you took in his words, a weird mixture of confusion and relief flooding your emotions.

"You do?" He nodded, still holding you close to him. "But- you just- you do?"

He laughed, pulling you into a hug and whispering in your ear, "I do. I really, really do."

"I love you too." You admitted in as soft a whisper, eagerly leaning into his warm embrace. You took a deep breath, finding comfort in the all too familiar scent.

You would have stood in his embrace for hours if not for your moment being interrupted by the clapping and hollering of your teammates.

"About time, punk." Bucky smirked from his seat on the barstools.

"Personally, I would love to know what happened in Y/N's doorway." Tony chimed in, laughing when you hid your face in Steve's chest.

"Steve probably just found out about Y/N's sweater habit." Nat added casually, earning looks from everyone in the room.

You were speechless, having been sure no one else knew.

Wanda, Sam, and Clint looked way too excited to learn more.

"You all really need to be more observant." She muttered to yourself.

You and Steve slipped out of the room when attention had turned to Nat, slowly making your way back up to your room.

"You're welcome to steal my sweaters anytime." Steve pulled you into his side as you walked down the hall.

"Oh, well I guess I'll start with this one then." You smirked before pulling him into your room, already removing the sweater from his body.

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