#ends up seeing this same white wolf around where he works over the course of a year

[themoon-and-dejavu]

Rick's a huge animal person, his family always had dogs growing up and he originally got his degree in environmental science before getting on board with the Agency. Originally wanted to work for the forest service or a similar government agency on the state level, but that plan didn't exactly work out unfortunately for him safe to say.

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 19: Twi, Time, Shade (Chain) - “Please Don’t”

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Consequences on not telling Time the full truth was lurking in the woods between Twilight and Time's eras. Pulling Time to the side to tell him of the Hero's Shade, there's an attack on camp, forcing the secret to come out in the worst way.

CW: blood, injury, language, self sacrifice

Apparently I have a pattern of hurting Twilight in some kind of way when Shade enters a story.

“Guys, wake up. Anyone know this place?” Legend asked as he and Wild sat around the cooking pot. They had just shifted while most of them were asleep.

Twilight looked around curiously. “It feels familiar, but too young to be my era. Time, is it yours?”

The Old Man took a deep breath in, scanned across the new forest, then let out his breath. “Feels too old to be mine. Could be in a between era.”

Twilight blanched at that. That could be the worst thing to happen since that meant Sh- Nope, he was over thinking it too quickly. “Did either of you scout out around here?”

Wild kept stirring, but pointed in a direction. “Yeah, there’s a road about half a mile from here. Seemed to be well used, but it was too early in the morning for people to be using it.”

“I’ll go see if anyone is there now.” Twi tried to stand to make his way to the road, but Wild swiftly pointed his ladle at him with a fierce look.

“After. Breakfast.” The steely look had Twilight consciously sitting back down like a good boy. He was not going to piss off his Cub when it came to everyone being fed. A few others snickered and giggled and all got the same look from Wild. He really could be terrifying.

Wild made a feast of a meal for them: Crepes, oatmeal, omelets, toast, honey and nut fruit and of course an assortment of drinks that everyone liked. Even with the great smelling food in hand and a hungry stomach, Twilight was having issues forcing the food down.

Thankfully his own mentor had mercy on him. “Come on, you're too antsy and it’s killing me to see.”

The unknown bad choice of words could have made Twilight run for the trees to bring everything back up, but then he wouldn’t have been allowed to leave camp. Instead he put on his normal clothes, sword on his back, then waited as Time finished putting on his armor.

The walk was silent outside of Twilight’s heart pounding in his ears and the birds singing in the trees. That was until Time broke the silence. “Alright Pup, what has you so worked up?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you are lying and hiding something. You get the same crease in your forehead Malon does. Spill it.” Time grabbed the young man’s shoulder, bringing them both to a stop.

Twilight took several long breaths to calm himself and to figure out the words. “This is going to be hard to tell you, specifically you.”

“Harder than telling me that we are related, can shapeshift and that I somehow trained you in my future?” Time gave a half amused smile.

Oh if he only knew… “Yes.”

Time straightened up, full attention on his descendant. “I’m listening.”

“I didn’t tell you the full truth of how you ended up training me in the future.” Why did he have to do this now?! “You didn’t time travel to my era to train me.”

“How can that be if we are an unknown hundred of years apart?”

“Just… When we met, you weren’t exactly al-” A howl nearby stopped him short. His eyes blew wide.

Time grabbed the hilt of his sword. “Wolfos?”

“N-no” Twilight spun around. “I know that howl.”

Paws making contact with the forest floor could be heard getting closer, making Twi’s heart nearly leap from his chest. A flash of gold had Twilight racing for it.

“Pup, wait!” Time was no spring cucco, but he kept up with the younger.

Twilight zig-zagged through the trees, catching the briefest amount of gold and white. “Shade, wait up!” he hollered, but the wolf stayed out of sight. When he no longer could see where he went nor could hear him, Twilight stopped.

Time stopped with him, slightly panting. “Friend of yours?”

A yip had both men’s heads turning. Standing a few feet away was the wolf in all his golden glory. Twilight knelt down move eye level, “Are you going to just sit there or are you going to get over here and say hi?”

A few bounding steps later and the wolf had his front legs draped over Twilight’s shoulder. Shade rubbed his head against the other’s neck, giving slight whines as if saying he missed him. There were a few licks to Twilight’s hairline before the Hylian stood up, wolf still hanging on his shoulders, showing that he was taller than the younger.

“Pup, you are aware that he is a spirit, right?” Time asked, eyeing the giant wolf carefully.

“I know, but how do you know?”

Time opened his white eye, pointing to the marked side of his face. “He sees all.”

That gave a chill down Twilight’s spine. “Did he tell you who Shade is?”

“No, he only gave an all too delighted laugh.”

Shade’s ears perked up and did a slight swivel. A low baritone grumble came from his chest. He pushed off of Twilight’s shoulder and seemed to be tuning into whatever he was hearing. Twilight closed his eyes, filtering out the noises around him to get a longer range.

There was metal clashing, hollering and the screeching of monsters. “Ambush… Camp!” Twilight and Shade bolted in the direction of the others, Time right behind them.

When the two heroes broke into the clearing of camp they saw seven heroes all armed and surrounded by a mix of different era’s monsters. Giving a gruff-snarl, Shade led the attack as he literally dove into the horde. The action had Legend screaming like a kit and Twilight was not going to let that slip away later.

The camp turned into a bloodbath as more and more monsters swarmed in from all sides. It wasn’t an impossible fight, just one that they weren’t prepared for since most of them were still in their night clothes.

Twilight made sure to keep an ear out for everyone, especially Shade. Not everyone would right away think ‘Friend’ when seeing a red eyed wolf covered in blood. He knew first hand how badly that could go, seeing that he went through that exact thing after his adventure, forgetting that Ordon hadn’t been told yet of his ability to shift and they already had nightmares from when the children were taken and a wolf had been stalking around that time. That wolf had been him, but he was there to protect, not harm. They didn’t know and he paid the price. He would never blame them either.

Somehow in the fray Twilight became overrun with monsters and was brought down to his knees. His sword was ripped from him while at the same time a heavy foot flattened him onto his back. One of Wild’s silver Moblins was pressing its weight against his chest, club high in the air. The monster roared and Twilight matched it, but not out of fear. Twilight roared in defiance.

He didn’t know how it happened, but he knew why and when it happened. The fight unexpectedly turned, drawing the attention of the monsters to someone else. That someone else was Shade, but the wolf was now the skeleton Twilight had been trained by.

He stood tall as a fully armored in gold metal, sword drawn, single red eyed stalfos. To the rest of them, this would seem to be a Boss Stal that happened to be out in the open. He locked his gaze on his descendant and made his way over in large strides, ignoring fights around him.

As Warriors went to be the first to strike, Twilight hollered, “Wait!”

Shade caught the blade’s edge with his metal covered hand. He didn’t strike back, only shoved the captain away. Time was at his backside, sword already slashing at his side and it forced him towards Warriors who tried again to land a hit. With the power behind Time’s swings, Shade had to pull his weapon, but to defend himself.

It was irrational for Twilight to think something could happen to the Hero’s Shade as if he could be more dead, but he was not going to risk the chance of talking to his mentor again after everything. He didn’t think he could handle seeing metal and bones fall to the dirt. And what would happen if they did? What would happen to Twilight as a baby since Shade was the one to care for him in the woods before leaving him at Rusl and Uli’s door? Would Twilight still win against Ganondorf?

Would Twilight fail the legacy Time started? He would damn himself, but not the legacy created by a child who held the weight of the world on his shoulder yet still died with regret. He could never.

Twilight’s mind screamed for his original mentor. ‘No! Please, don’t! How can you not see who he is?!’

With everything happening so quickly, the Moblin holding Twilight down had looked away, foot relaxing some on his chest. The monster was still big, but Twilight just twisted his body enough to get a shot with his foot to the things jambags. It worked to his surprise. Sword in hand, the Moblin’s head fell to the ground.

Twilight looked up at Shade who was deflecting Warriors and Sky while Time readied another deadly blow. With his mind still irrationally thinking, Twilight ran to stop the fight, but it was about to be too late. He wasn’t going to make it.

Time had his Biggoron Sword thrusting forward and Twilight knew the other was too far into the motion to stop, so he did the one thing he could think. He just prayed that Time would forgive him if he survived.

“Shade!!” Twilight was one more step away.

The Stal turned around to his name being called, his eye locked onto Twi and the sword headed now for both of them. It was all in slow motion.

The Ordonian had no fear as he jumped that last step, flinging his arms over the golden armored skeleton into the resemblance of a hug. At the same moment Time’s blade was run through Twilight’s back, coming out his chest and imbedding into Shade’s chest plate. Twilight sucked in a stuttered and pained breath, sagging into the boney arms that wrapped around him as they both fell.

The sword jossiled as they landed, Twi on top, and he screamed at pain that slowly subsided as he went into shock. He looked between them, grabbed the blade and stood, removing the tip from the other. Twilight swayed on his feet as the battle continued around him, hands now bleeding from the sharp edge he was still holding onto and now pushing out of himself until he heard it clatter onto the ground behind him. Straightening up, he mouthed an apology to his former mentor before he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, going to his side.

Shade was up and holding Twilight in his arms before he hit the ground again. He looked around at his old companions seeing that there were many of them injured and Hyrule was going to be needed for those. He only had one choice and he wouldn’t fail or so help him he would fight every damn goddess and god there was! He laid the boy on the ground, trying to ignore the sounds of him sucking in breath and blood into his lungs. Shade placed his hands on the ground drawing in only as much magic as he needed. The grass around him shriveled and died as they gave their essence to him. Muscle and flesh formed under his armor though his clothes stayed tattered and torn.

Feeling his body reformed, he removed his broken helmet, throwing it to the side. He didn’t care how many enemies were left or who was now jaw dropped at the sight of who he was, what he had become. He didn’t care about the shock his younger self was still in. All he cared about was his Pup. Tearing the boy's tunics open more to access the wound, Shade saw how dire the situation really was and honestly Twilight should have already died from it.

With his death, Shade didn’t just become the Hero's Shade. The Lost Woods had granted him the power to protect the forest, to give and take life inside of it. That didn’t mean only for the things inside the forest originally, but the people who entered with ill intentions too. He was a deity in a different form than the one inside the mask he carried when alive. He placed a hand over the wound and one on the ground. He pulled magic from every living thing outside of the last few monsters and the boys. The tree’s bark rotted as the leaves turned brown. The grasses grew dry, critters that hid in the ground were consumed as well. It physically hurt him to do this, but he promised to restore it all.

Looking over his shoulder he shouted, “Leave some of the monsters alive! Restrain them!” To give life was to take life. Different shades of green magic swirled over his hand touching the ground, absorbing it, then releasing it into the boy’s chest. Twilight thrashed as the magic worked to stitch him back up.

“Twilight!!”

“Wild no!” Time went to grab Wild by his belt, barely making it to him when Shade’s hand swiped from the ground, upwards. Deep underground roots sprang up, blocking the Cub from getting too close.

“If you get too close, the magic will jump to you and I can’t afford that, not when he is barely alive.”

“What happened?” Hyrule asked.

“I- he-”

“No point in pointing fingers when what is done is done and even more so when it was no one's fault.” Shade snapped.

Twilight stopped moving, stopped breathing, heart nearly a flutter if that. His eyes were open, but no light shined in those blues.

“Come on Pup, take a breath, just one.” Shade closed his eyes and with a yell, pulled an extreme amount of magic from his surroundings. The trees snapped in half, forcing the boys to move closer so as to not be crushed. Shade gave away some of the magic he had used to bring himself back, revealing the wounds he had received during his final battle, including the fatal gash that went all the way across his midsection.

He could feel the wound closing the last bit all the way through and he pushed it slightly over to where his boy’s heart was lying still in his chest. Knowing that he was draining near his limit, he raised his left hand from the ground, raised it up in the air and swiftly slammed the magic overtop of where Twilight’s heart was.

“BREATHE!!”

Twilight’s eyes shot open, back arched off the ground, mouth drawing in gurgled air. Shade turned him to his side where the younger began to heave, globs of blood spewing onto the dirt before being turned back over.

“You irresponsible child! I kept you alive from the age of one up until I could teach you everything I knew, past fighting Ganon and this is the shit you do?! What were you thinking?!” He gave the boy a shake, wanting to knock some sense into him. All he got was a bloody smile. “Why are you smiling?”

“I missed you.”

[ineffablesnakegender]

My Sanders Sides headcanons (some sad some random X3). Anyway I'm mentally ill about my favorite guys so here's my headcanons only at this point they aren't even the same characters anymore and I should probably just make them my OCS but fuck you I won't do that. First off if you know me it's obviously Janus.

I think he uses all pronouns (I'm gonna be referring to him with he/him here so nobody gets confused) but won't elaborate on his gender or sexuality because he likes making people guess.

He's very tall (Remus likes to climb him like a jungle gym) and wears heels because, despite being unable to properly walk, he likes feeling superior to people. Of course this works against him and he ends up hitting his head, getting his hat swept off him by low ceilings, and tripping a lot without his cane. He also needs a cane because he's not used to having legs (he usually has a snake tail) and will trip over his own feet or forget to walk sometimes. Still he insists on wearing heels. "Beauty is pain" and all that

He's color blind and can only see in shades of yellow or blue like a lot of snakes (Patton knows this and decided on wearing a nice light blue so that he stands out to Janus because they're animal buddies shhh ignore canon we don't talk about that here).

He feeds on radiation I just know it in my soul. On the topic of things I have no reason to believe but I do. He's indigenous like me, sorry guys it's just true.

He's like the local cryptid. He'll often stand in the back of photos just to scare the others or pop up out of nowhere and stand behind them until they notice (he thinks he's so funny. Little bastard man. I'm gonna take a bite out of his skull. Cut him open to reveal he's been a cake all along) this has gotten him punched on several occasions.

In the same sentence he'll be like "hey I'm really worried about you" and then "you should kill yourself NOW"

Big Mortica Addams and Lady Dimitrescu vibes.

He really likes being outside. He's a gardener and takes care of wild animals. He does the white lady thing of saying "oh he's just a harmless little guy" when the little guy in question is a whole wolf :/

He follows Remus around when he goes adventuring because he doesn't trust him enough to not die. Where you go I go looking ass.

He does participate in a little bit of witchcraft.

Vegan. I can't explain this one.

His scales are hard like armor and are scattered throughout his body. He lets Remus chew on them.

[maria021015]

Once again Zaida found herself at the Stilinskis’ front door, wrapping her jacket around herself tightly against the slight breeze in the night’s air. Hairs prickled at the back of her neck as she waited for Stiles, and an uneasy feeling twisted in her stomach. Though when she turned and her eyes scanned the street she could not see any sign of life other than her own, she still felt as if someone was watching her. Paranoia? Or something more? She didn’t want to stick around to find out.

Her body was filled with relief when the front door finally swung open and Stiles moved aside for her to enter. Zaida followed their routine wordlessly. Step inside. Follow him up the stairs. Enter his room. Sit on the end of the bed. Watch the boy pace up and down, wearing tracks into the carpet.

“Stiles,” She warned him and by now he knew what she was going to say before she had to say it. He let out a deep, shaking breath as he took his place across from her on the mattress. His knees were bouncing up and down and his hands were clenching and unclenching over and over and over again. “Tell me what happened this time.”

“It was different this time, i- it was like…you know that movie, ‘Inception’?” He stuttered, staring at his hands and stealing glances at the girl beside him at any chance that he got. Anxiousness bubbled within him, threatening to spill over the edges and drown him. He kept it at bay by counting.

Five things. Zaida’s hair was twisted up high on her head. Strands of waves hung loosely around her face, having escaped the confines of her hair band. The green of her cardigan made the same shade come alive in the hazel pools of her eyes. Her white satin pyjama set made her bronze skin glow in contrast. The moonlight streaming through the half-drawn blinds glinted off the golden pendant that hung around her neck, nestled in the crest of her chest - decidedly exactly where he should not be looking right now.

“Of course I’ve seen ‘Inception’, I’m not an uncultured swine,” Zaida snorted, trying to make a lighthearted joke out of the situation.

“Well, it was like that. Like a dream…within a dream.” He whispered as his pulse mellowed. “First, I was downstairs, in the living room, but the Nemeton was there, just coming out of the floor. A-and when I reached to touch it, it was like I woke up, but I didn’t really wake up because then I was at the beach house. I didn’t know why I was there and when I got up from the couch I thought I saw you standing on the beach outside. But when I went to check, it wasn’t you. It was a woman with long black hair, but she had your eyes.”

At his description, Zaida froze. A woman with long black hair and hazel eyes at the beach house? How many times had Zaida herself woken up as a child, searching for her mother only to find her standing with her feet buried in the sand and the ocean water lapping at her ankles as she watched the horizon?

“I think- I think it was your mom,” Stiles admitted in a low tone and Zaida swallowed thickly, her throat going dry.

“Why would you be dreaming about my mom?” She questioned, not seeing the sense in such a thing. Stiles had only ever seen her mom in the pictures littered around the beach house.

“I don’t think I was dreaming about her…I think she was there in my dream,” The boy reworded it and a chill washed down her spine. “She was trying to speak to me, but I couldn’t hear anything. It was like my ears were underwater. But reading her lips…I think she was saying, ‘he’s coming’.”

An involuntary shudder ran through Zaida’s entire body. “That last time I spoke to Mom, she warned me that the alpha pack was coming. You don’t think she’s talking about Deucalion, do you?” She wondered aloud and Stiles pursed his lips, revealing his answer wordlessly.

Four things. His body felt hot. His hands were cold. And sweaty. The constriction in his lungs was slowly easing.

“But why would she come to me? Isn’t that something she should tell you?” He asked and Zaida couldn’t deny that he was right. Why warn Stiles about something concerning her?

“Unless, it’s because she can’t reach me. My blocks are always in place now,” A proverbial lightbulb went off in Zaida’s mind. “Deaton said that when you three died it would change you. Maybe you have a connection to the spirit realm. Maybe that’s why she was able to contact you and not me.”

“But if that’s true, and he is coming for you…Zay, you need to run.” The boy’s honey-eyes locked onto her and alarm shone behind them.

The image of her desperately fleeing as Deucalion narrowed in on her, red eyes glowing and teeth bared menacingly, flashed behind his eyes. Deep rooted fear grew within him. If something were to happen to Zaida…he wouldn’t be able to bear it. Seeing her flash of dark brown hair in the hallways or hearing her creative insults in her melodic voice…He lived for those moments. Watching her laugh at one of his stupid jokes, or seeing the cogs in her brain whirring as she figured something out…Those were the moments that made everything else worth it. As she faded from those memories in his mind, Stiles’ chest filled with an aching pressure. No, he wouldn’t be able to handle it at all.

“I’m not going anywhere,” She set her jaw stubbornly, unaware of the worries plaguing the boy across from her. “These past few weeks, I’ve been training. When he comes for me, I’m going to be ready, and I’m going to kill him.”

“What if he comes for you when you’re alone?” Stiles’ brows drew together into a concerned frown as he ran his fingers through his hair, mind immediately going to how she had arrived only moments before. “I mean, God, he could have attacked you any of the number of times you’ve been walking over here in the dead of night. I should never have let you come. I shouldn’t have even called you.”

It would have been his fault. Deucalion could have come for her and she would have been gone and it would have been all because of him.

“Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I?” She reminded him soothingly, unable to stop herself from reaching out this time until it was too late and her hand was already gripped tightly within his. “He’s not as strong as he was a few weeks ago. He has no pack, he almost died…I could take him.”

Three things. Rain was beginning to fall outside, pattering lightly on the roof. The wind was rustling the trees that lined the side of the neighbours’ house, right by his window. And her voice - so smooth and so rich - calmed the storm in his mind, pulling him back from the edge. He was still worried, but at least he was no longer on the precipice of a panic attack.

“He also has his eyesight back, and he's had two weeks to heal.” The boy pointed out, shifting to face her with softening and pleading features. His leg pressed against hers and it sent a buzz up her thigh. “You need to be careful. Don’t make me do this all without you…I need you with me.”

His voice was the barest of whispers and his words made her heart break into a sprint within her chest - running toward him or away, she wasn’t yet sure. She should move. She knew she should. But her muscles stiffened in surprise when he lifted his hand to brush loose strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Instead of dropping his arm back into his lap, his fingers lingered there, caressing lightly from her cheek to her jaw and leaving a trail of red blush in their wake.

“...You don’t need me,” Zaida scoffed slightly, eyes lowering as the memory of him with Lydia painfully struck her deep in her guts, escaping from the box in the basement of her mind where she’d banished it to. It was always going to be Lydia. Not enough. Second choice. “You don’t even want me.”

Two things. Her perfume was sweet and hung in the air between them, taking over his senses. He couldn’t smell anything else. He could barely think of anything else besides her. She sat before him without the armour of the make-up she used to disguise her struggles that hid in the darkness beneath her eyes, and yet there was beauty to even that - to the strength that it testified to. Stiles found everything about her beautiful - it didn’t matter if she was dressed to the nines in tight tops and short skirts or if she was swimming in oversized sweats. She was striking no matter what she wore, and this was no exception. She could be disfigured beyond recognition and she would still set his heart ablaze simply because she was Zaida. Zaida, who was determined, and brave, and stronger than anyone he’d met. Zaida, who was so smart, and fierce, and supportive, and relentless. Zaida was the girl he had fallen for without realising it because it had been that easy to do. The fact that she was in front of him doubting his feelings and desires when he was barely hanging onto control with the thinnest of threads was what ultimately made him snap. If she couldn’t see how much she meant to him…

“I can show you…” Stiles trailed off and she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he paused. She looked up curiously as his eyes flickered to…was he looking at what she thought he was looking at? “...Just how much I need you…How much I want you…”

He was suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to engulf himself in her - to smell that sweet perfume, to hear her small and sharp intake of breath, to wind her soft hair through his fingers and feel her lips against his, to taste her…To make sure that this was not a dream - that he had really woken up - and that she was still here with him. Her name was like a chant in his mind that he could no longer drown out. Giving into the current, he allowed himself to follow the gravitational pull towards her.

Zaida, Zaida, Zaida…She was here…She was alive…She was okay…

Zaida’s heart lurched when Stiles leaned forward, his amber-eyes half-lidded and both hands shifting to cup her face. She was jolted out of her trance of shock when the bridge of his nose brushed against hers, sending her jerking backwards. Gripping his wrists, she pulled his arms from her as she scrambled away, jumping to her feet with a loud gasp.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The brunette exclaimed in exasperation, her entire face turning a dark shade of scarlet. Had he just been about to kiss her?

“Zay…I-” Stiles blanched in surprise at her reaction, taken aback by how quickly the situation had turned on its head. It was as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dunked over him. How had he read her signals so wrong? The night in the ambulance…that morning in the kitchen…her reaction in the locker room…he thought it had meant something. “I’m sorry, I-I thought…”

“No, no, this was a mistake. A big mistake.” She muttered breathily, shaking her head as she backed away towards his bedroom door. How had she ended up in this mess? This was all her fault. She’d thought she could just ignore what had started between them - that she could pretend it had never happened. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to stay away from him and she had brought this upon herself. “I should never have come here.”

“Zay, wait!” Stiles called out to her - his father be damned - getting to his feet and then hurrying after her when she fled out of his room, down the stairs and then out the front door.

“Just stay away from me, Stiles!” Zaida shouted back at him as she emerged into the night, the light rain doing nothing to cool her burning skin or sizzling anger. She didn’t look back to see him standing in the doorway with a crestfallen expression on his face, wondering where he had gone wrong. She just kept walking.

Zaida didn’t really know where she was going - she just let her legs carry her as her mind spiraled out of control. Being almost kissed by Stiles was the last thing that she had expected to happen tonight - or ever. Not only did it reignite that relentless little flame of hope within her chest that she had tried so hard to suffocate, but it forced her to confront what had transpired once again. All she wanted to do was pretend none of it had ever happened - not their moment in the ambulance, or that morning in the kitchen, or that scene in the locker room. Everyone coming together on her birthday had made her think that it would be possible to just go back to how things were before - exactly how she wanted it to. But this? This now made all of that impossible. That blurred line between friendship and romance that she and Stiles had been flirting with had finally been undeniably crossed, and there was no pretending it hadn’t happened. This was irreversible.

She knew her initial reaction to any problem was to push it away - to hide from it. If it couldn’t find her, it couldn’t hurt her. She’d spent years of her life avoiding people - neglecting friendships and relationships - for this exact reason. She hated the pain that came along with it - the unbearable ache that made her feel weak. Not enough. Not enough. Not enough. She had let her guard down. She’d let Stiles in and now she was reaping the consequences.

Zaida was numb from the cold by the time she found herself at Lydia’s front door. She was soaked to the bone and wasn’t entirely sure if her face was wet from tears or the rain. She lifted her phone to her ear and it rang five times before Zaida was about to give up and walk back to the apartment. On the last ring, Lydia’s groggy voice greeted her.

“Bitch, you better have a good reason for waking me up.” The redhead groaned on the other end of the line.

“...I’m at your front door,” Zaida said in a defeated tone and it was all Lydia needed to hear before she was propelled out of bed.

“I’m coming now,” She stated and Zaida could hear her covers rustling before the girl hung up.

Lydia didn’t let Zaida say anything when she saw the state of her friend, instead ushering her inside the house and up the staircase. When they entered Lydia’s bedroom, the redhead handed Zaida a bundle of clothes and shoved her towards the ensuite bathroom, starting the hot water. Once Zaida was warm and dry, she emerged from the bathroom to find Lydia, Allison and a box of pizza waiting for her.

“You guys are the best,” She sniffed, her nasal passage feeling stuffy as she crossed the room and collapsed onto the mattress. The girls truly knew her well - eating her feelings was always her first solution to everything.

“Now, devour and tell us what happened.” Lydia demanded, throwing the lid of the box open and pushing it towards the short brunette. “You came from Stiles’ house, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I came from Stiles’ house,” She huffed and ripped off a large slice of pepperoni pizza, shovelling it into her mouth. How could she even explain what she was feeling at the moment?

“What did he do? Did he say something to you?” Allison leaned forward, her jaw locking protectively as her dark eyes stared at Zaida analytically. “Was he rude or mean? Do I need to kick his ass?”

“No, he…” Zaida sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself to admit to what had transpired aloud. “He tried to kiss me…”

“Wait what?! I should have brought out the celebratory champagne, not the consolation pizza!” Lydia squealed excitedly, shuffling closer. Then when she recalled the state Zaida was in earlier, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, then what’s wrong? Was it bad? Did he use too much tongue?”

“I said he tried to kiss me, I…I didn’t let him.” Zaida swallowed thickly as both girls stared at her blankly in disbelief.

“Wait, let me get this straight. The guy you like - and have been pining over for months - tries to kiss you, and you don’t let him? Why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?” Lydia exclaimed and grabbed the nearest pillow, whacking Zaida over the head with it in the hopes it would knock some sense into her.

“It’s not like I was expecting it! It threw me off guard and I panicked and then freaked out and left.” Zaida defended her actions, though as the words left her mouth she realised she really wasn’t making much sense at all. “This whole situation has just got me losing my mind, and I can’t explain it.”

“I can. You’re full of adrenaline and cortisol.” Lydia snorted and then followed up with more information when she was met with confused expressions. “Fear. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Zaida spat, glaring darkly at the redhead’s use of the word and reaching for another slice of pizza. She found that the chewing calmed her nerves.

“Zay, let’s just talk about this, okay? Since the moment you moved to town you knew that Stiles had a crush on Lydia. That’s the way it always was. That’s what you got used to. When you started liking Stiles, didn’t you feel jealous? Bitter? Angry, even?” Allison prompted the shorter girl to open up. As someone who was an expert of shutting her own feelings away and then becoming overwhelmed and deflecting, the huntress knew the best approach was to break everything down.

“What? No, of course not.” Zaida scoffed at the absurdity of admitting to such a thing right in front of Lydia - her best friend who had stood by her side through everything. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt the girl or make her feel guilty for something that was not her fault in the slightest.

“Come on, Zay, just…you can be honest with us. I’m not gonna get mad or offended, we just want to help you.” Lydia reached out, squeezing Zaida’s leg reassuringly with a look of sympathy behind her green eyes.

“What do you want me to say? That every time he would talk about you, it made me feel sick? That when I’d see him looking at you, it made my heart ache? That I’d get so mad at myself for feeling jealous and bitter when it had nothing to do with you?” Zaida finally exploded, having been pushed to her limits. All of the building tension burst like water through a collapsing dam. “That I started comparing myself to you and figured out that no matter what I did I’d never be good enough for him, because I’m not you, Lydia. I thought that I would never have to actually face the idea of you and Stiles together because you were never interested. But what I saw that day in the locker room crushed me. I never thought anything could hurt that badly, but I was wrong. So yeah, maybe I am jealous, and bitter, and angry, but I never wanted you to blame yourself, so I stayed silent when all I wanted to do was scream.”

“And that would have been hell,” Allison stepped in. “Feeling like that about a stranger is one thing, but about your best friend? It’s infinitely harder. I remember how easy it was for me to take out my jealousy on Erica by hating her. You decided to do better by being a good friend. But suppressing your emotions like that works for a bit, until it just doesn’t cut it anymore. If you keep stuffing everything into a box, eventually it’s all going to come bursting out…and it comes back with a vengeance.”

“You know what I think?” Lydia nodded in agreement, trying not to take Zaida’s outburst to heart. She knew her friend hadn’t meant anything ill toward her. “I think that when you walked into that locker room you were forced to confront how you really felt. In that moment, by thinking that I had stabbed you in the back, you allowed yourself to feel everything completely unfiltered - everything that you tried so hard to push away just came flooding back in.”

“Yeah, it certainly felt like I was getting hit by a tidal wave,” Zaida snorted, attempting to lighten the situation by not taking anything too seriously.

“Nah uh, that right there? Avoidance.” Allison snapped her fingers and shook her head sternly, like a teacher admonishing a student. “We’re not doing that anymore. It’s not healthy. This is a safe space, so let it all out.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Zaida yielded, picking at another slice of pizza and diverting her gaze to the grease that had sunk into the cardboard box - looking anywhere but at her best friends’ faces. “Maybe you’re right - both of you. I didn’t want to let my feelings towards the situation ruin our friendship, so I pushed everything away and thinking that Lydia betrayed me did bring it all to the surface. And it hurt like a bitch. I never want to feel that way again. So…yeah, I’m scared - terrified even - of getting my hopes up only for it to end in pain and misery when he inevitably goes running back to who he really wants.”

“And that’s why when Stiles tried to kiss you, you panicked and fled. You didn’t want to feel hope again because you believe he’s using you as a placeholder?” Lydia broached the subject of the kiss tentatively, gently prodding for more information.

“I guess, yeah.” The naiad shrugged half-heartedly in admittance. “But it also means that I can’t keep ignoring what started up between us and pretending it never happened to make it easier to go back to being friends. I can’t just expect something like this to go away. He’s going to want answers - answers that I can’t give him. How am I supposed to brush this off as something else when…well, when it firmly steps over the friendship line?”

“So what I’m hearing is, you were suppressing your feelings towards the situation again until you were forced to confront them and everything exploded?” Allison hummed pointedly, raising a brow. “You see how it just makes everything worse? It just leads to build-up with no resolution. You can’t keep pushing everything down - you can’t just brush this off. You need to face it head on.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Zaida huffed, feeling a stress headache pounding at her temples already. She was overwhelmed, and exhausted, and frustrated, and all she wanted to do was finish eating this pizza and then maybe find a bucket of ice-cream to dig into. “Seriously, what do you want me to do? Should I go up to him and say, ‘hey Stiles, I’m an emotional mess right now because I know that the only reason why you’re interested in me is because you can’t have the girl who you really want. So maybe don’t try to kiss me because I’d like to remain in my bubble of delusion, many thanks’.”

“You’re so convinced that Stiles is just using you as a back-up, but why? What has he done that makes you so sure that there’s no possible reality in which he is actually over Lydia and genuinely likes you?” Allison interjected before Zaida could spiral any further.

“I…” Zaida opened her mouth to answer, but she found she couldn’t really come up with any solid evidence. “Because he…that’s the way it always goes. He’ll say things that make me believe he might have moved on, and then the moment he has an opportunity he goes running back. Like after the conversation we had at the ice-rink, or the moment we had after we saved Jackson. Why should this be any different?”

“It’s easy to make assumptions based on patterns of behaviour, but realistically there’s no evidence.” Lydia reasoned, desperate to get the girl to see the other side of things. “In fact, Stiles had the perfect chance in that locker room when he thought that I was making a move, but he didn’t take it. I saw his face, Zay, and he wasn’t into it at all.”

“...But he didn’t pull away,” Zaida began but Lydia shook her head insistently.

“That doesn’t mean anything other than that he was surprised.” The redhead promised, drawing upon her knowledge base for an answer. “It’s a confirmation bias - you’re looking for evidence to support a theory that has no real substance to it because you want to justify what you already believe. You feel like you’re not enough so you’re unconsciously projecting those insecurities onto reality, conjuring something that isn’t really there. On top of that, you’re afraid of getting hurt, so you’re sabotaging your own chances in an attempt to protect yourself.”

“What happened tonight, before Stiles tried to kiss you?” Allison shifted approaches, preferring a show and not tell method. “What were you talking about?”

“Well he was telling me about a nightmare he had and he thought my mom was visiting him in his dreams to warn me about Deucalion.” Zaida gave the short version of events, unsure about why this was important. However Allison and Lydia hadn’t been wrong yet, so she trusted their process. “Then he got all worried about Deucalion coming for me and he said that…that he needed me. I didn’t believe him, and I said that he didn’t even want me, let alone need me. Then…then he said he’d show me how much he felt both of those things. And that’s when he tried to kiss me.”

“Oh my God, the boy practically told you he couldn’t live without you and your first thought was still that you’re his second choice?” Lydia groaned and buried her face in the pillow she had used to smack Zaida earlier. No amount of blows to the head would clear the mess that she had going on in there. “And here I was, thinking that you were smart.”

“Zay, Stiles obviously cares about you very much.” Allison took the softer approach, which was entirely reminiscent of their old dynamic - back when everything was simpler and they hadn’t known werewolves existed. “I think you need to talk to him.”

“How am I supposed to look him in the eye after I freaked out like that and ran off into the rain? He’s probably going to ask me about it tomorrow at school and I have no idea what to do.” Zaida ran her hand over her face, massaging her temples to ease the growing tension collecting beneath her skull. Her thoughts were a jumbled and confused mess.

Could it all be true? Could Allison and Lydia be right? Had she just been projecting all of her insecurities and seeing things that were never there? Did Stiles actually want her and not Lydia? Had she just completely ruined her chances? Damn it, she needed more pizza.

“Lyds, you got any ice-cream?” She let out a heavy sigh, reaching for the last slice.

[im1nobody]

Meeting Xander

Trigger warnings: Christianity, queer harassment

Xander Character sheet: Age at death - XX XXX-XXX

Xander used to be Alexander, but he’s a disgrace. He’s a fallen angel, a fallen cupid. But he’s not bad. He just didn’t agree. Xander spends his days roaming the human world, watching it evolve. He’s been here watching them evolve for centuries now, he hasn’t kept count. He watched them evolve before though too, when he worked for God. When he was a Cupid, an angel of love.

Xander kept up with the human trends, he kept a lustful outfit with reds and black. A shaggy wolf cut ending around his shoulder of black hair and pink strands framing his face. When he was hidden in his angel form his wings were out, large and white with rainbow hearts on the tip of the feathers. They were worn and rough from his fall. His eyes are a soft pink like aphrodisiacs, and a third eye is placed on top of his forehead that sees relationships and futures. A special power only a few have when born, and it cannot be taken away. Xander often spends nights among humans in nightclubs with his wings hidden and his third eye closed in order to keep an eye on his community and to keep them safe.

All other powers were stripped from him when he fell. When he disgraced God. When he asked too many questions. But what else was he supposed to do when he continued to see the mistreatment of people they made? The people they made, the people who are harmed because of the people they love in the name of God. In the name of sin. Is it fair to let these people continue this abuse against queers because they believe it’s wrong? Because they believe they should pass the judgment of God?

Xander brought these concerns to God, wanting to help the people he truly feels his work is devoted to. God ignored his concerns though, he gave humans free will and they shall do as they please with it. They will have their judgement come soon enough. He couldn’t let it go though. Xander took all the queer jobs and worked hard, bending rules, to keep them safe and happy.

Word got around and Xander lost his bow. God offered retraining to keep his job but he broke. Xander broke and yelled.

 “How can you allow them to do this? It’s disgusting, and to sit back and allow people to harm someone else just because of free will makes you a lousy ruler. Their judgement day may come but someone needs to protect the queers, you made them how they are. What happened to love thy neighbour? Don’t you love all your children the same? How can you let them die, how can you let them be abused and assaulted and murdered because of how you made them!” Xander yelled shaking with rage.

God did not take that well and banished Xander taking his powers and throwing him to Earth. He didn’t mind though, he spent his time wandering and watching his people. Watching the lovers. Helping them when he could such as protests and keeping gay bars safe.

Xander was in his hidden form on a bench watching people walk by smiling softly. The fight is still going but in America, the place where he mostly resides, gay marriage is legalized. There’s much more to do still but it’s better than before. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Xander sees some wings. He hasn’t talked with another angel since he was banished. Xander looked over and recognized her as one of the new guardian angels, he couldn’t remember her name and never bothered to pay attention to God’s workers now. He has no respect for God anymore but many of their workers have no idea what they do and believe.

“Hello, uhm I don’t think I’ve met you before?” she says.

“Probably not, I don’t work for God. I’m fallen.” Xander says watching her curiously.

“Fallen? You used to be an angel?”

“Yes, I used to be a cupid. Not anymore. They didn’t like how I saw things. How I did things”

“You did things differently?”, Adora crinkles her brows. Of course, she had heard of fallen angels and how they were cursed because they did things differently. It was a lesson in her schooling. It was rare though, the main one being Satan whose name was not allowed to be spoken. It’s taboo to talk about any fallen angel.

“Of course, I want to protect people. They didn’t care about the effects their followers had on others. ‘Oh they’ll get their punishment when their time comes’ they said. I think it’s bullshit,” Xander rants.

“What effects I’ve been having some trouble with the other angels. They won’t explain some things to me. I’ve noticed how tensions here have been high, because of the gays. I was wondering if you knew what that was about. No one else will tell me,” Adora explains softly, hoping to finally understand all the hostility going around,

“Some Christians,” he responds drawing out the word as though it was poison in his mouth, “believe that people in the LGBT community are against God. And they decide to take it into their own hands by killing and torturing them,”

Adora’s wings puff in surprise at that statement. Her eyes well up with tears, only her left eye visible. A bright golden colour left her distressed as she silently cried thinking about all the people lost to hatred.

“Well, we have to do something, right? Surely-”

“They won’t do anything” he cuts her off. “You shouldn’t try, you’ll fall too,”

“But that’s not right! They’re being hurt, they’re being killed!”

“I know. But God won’t do anything and if you get in their way, and break their rules you’ll pay for it,” Xander responds sternly. He looks at the new angel and his gaze softens. She truly wants to help it seems, but he can’t trust her until she proves herself. 

Adora huffs wiping the dried tears off her face and flies back to her dorm. Her head hurts with conflict. Everything he has said matches up. And everything she has read and known shows that fallen angels are bad, and they say and do bad things against God, but is that the case?

Adora scrambles to the bookcase grabbing everything she can find that might give her answers. She spends hours reading them, looking for any clue on what to believe, what’s right or wrong in this situation. How to help. Anything!

Adora falls asleep in her pile of books leaving her roommates to find her, curious and concerned. They recognised one of the books on fallen angels and hoped she had not begun talking to him. When somebody asks too many questions only bad things can happen, that is the lesson many angels have learned. They hope Adora will learn it soon too.

[overlyimmersed]

Pals...I just gotta talk cuz I'm...just having something...

So June is almost over...

I do have a drawing I'm working on for Pride and I'd like to finish it by month's end.

Unfortunately...

Rather then working on it, I've spent the last 4. Hours. Trying to eat half a sandwich.

Why did it take me 4 hours to eat half a sandwich? Well because I had a spider incident.

I...don't consider myself arachnophobic. I am 29. I see spiders daily. Literally every day. There's a large black wolf spider that lives on the railing of the wooden ramp my father built for my grandfather that sometimes needs a wheelchair. I love that little guy. He's a cool spider. He's black as tar with emerald green eyes and some white marking. Very cool little pal. I think it's neat to watch spiders catch prey in their webs. I have captured and released countless spiders from my bedroom over the course of my life. Killed even more. Some...very big...

The spider responsible for this "incident" was not big. It was a common grass spider. Not big. Not venomous.

So. What. Happened?

Look...I haven't been sleeping well for...around 8 months. Because I moved so I had a mix of seasonal and relocation depression and the house had fucky acoustics and I can't sleep in the same room as my cats but they had to be in my room in this house cuz housemates had cats of their own. Then I moved back home. I'm currently staying in a camper cuz my bedroom in being renovated. So I have multiple kinds of depression and am sleeping in the same room as my cats...

Why does this matter? Well I've been hallucinating spiders for the past 1-2 weeks due to sleep deprivation.

OR SO I THOUGHT

It was not hallucinations. It was this little fucker. So that's cool, I'm not as physically messed up as I thought. Spider was real all along. But... I actually don't like spiders...inside a room with me. When they're outside where they belong, they're cool. Come into my space and I start to come a little unglued. I don't like the way they move, they're fast, and I don't want them to touch me.

So this spider makes itself a known by scurrying between my chest and the edge of the table my computer is sitting on. I shriek and nearly fall from my chair to get away from it. I try to kill it somewhere on the table. My cat tries to catch it. There were several attempts made on it's life that all failed. Normal spider encounter stuff. And then, predictably, it disappears. Fine. That happens. It's been in here for days and days already. Not big deal, try to get back to my sandwich and just put the little creeper out of my mind.

Nah.

Me AND MY CAT both spent the next 5-10 minutes jumping at every movement thinking it might be that blasted spider. It never was, but I...was not doing well. Paranoia was starting to close it's grip around my mind. But I was trying to keep a lid on it and just...go about my night. Then...

I felt it...

The spider was on my body. It had SOMEHOW gotten onto my right arm. The last place I'd seen it was on the window glass TO MY LEFT. So obviously I scream, jump up and try to brush it off me, make sure it isn't on my clothes, the whole bit. And I succeed. But because of the previous paranoid behaviors I'm actually not 100% sure it was the spider. It could have just been my own hair and me being hypersensitive out of fear.

NAH.

I search the floor to see if I could find it, so I can murder it cuz I knew I'd get no peace till I saw the bastard's corps. Didn't find it on the floor. I try to talk myself down, assume it was my hair after all and get back to sandwich.

then I see movement. I had been the spider and I had brushed it off into my cats' water dish where it was now trying to swim out. This is my chance. I know exactly where it is and it can't get away. I murder the spider. I nearly fail due to my own stupidity, but I do get it done.

Yay! Now I can finish my food in peace!

Except nah.

I spend the next four hours having an anxiety attack. Hyperventilating, then crying, then just...disassociating... All over a spider that I turned to pulp HOURS ago. Simply because, this one. touched me.

I've never had this happen before. I'm not arachnophoic. So why did it take me 4 hours to eat half a sandwich... When I really just wanted to finish my lunch and work on that damned Pride drawing?

[cryptid-killjoy]

orleans-jester​:

“I was thinking Meatloaf actually,” Thomas said. He shouldn’t be surprised anymore that they ended up on the same wavelength at times like this. “I’m not square enough to be Brad, and not … well, flamboyant enough to be Rocky.” Him and short shorts didn’t mix. ESPECIALLY not in public no no. “You’d be a cute Columbia. It’ll be a good time.”

The whole submarine thing had been hilarious. Poor rich, white folk, willingly climbing into a tin can deep to go deep into the ocean. It was their own fault as far as Thomas, and as far as most people, were concerned. The second they saw it was operated by a gaming controller, anyone with brains would have stepped out immediately. “I do hope they died to My Heart Will Go On, that would be the icing on the cake.”

Has there ever been an idea that Flotsam gave that Thomas did not leap for? Perhaps there had been a few he was less enthusiastic about but usually, he was all in. Believed in Flotsam to the point of moving up and away from a country he thought he had finally found a place in, to go and try their hand at another. And there were no regrets about any of these decisions. Not a one. So a boat, they shall have. Something comfortable, but still with their rugged roots. “We must think of what to name her,” He proclaimed. “Maybe it’s just because we were talking about Pippin but - perhaps something with merry, since we’ll be having a lot of fun aboard it.”

Ahh Hook - another reason, albeit a smaller one, for their immediate departure. The pirate has been trying to get an audience with them for months now.

And what else would these wolf-given muscles be for, other than to lift his husband, his wife, his children. He was no gymrat, didn’t look like one either thankfully, unlike some other wolves, lifting nothing of consequence to increase his vanity. These were used for work, and for protection. So he was able to lift his skinny assed husband off of the ground and into the water that he was admiring so much, feeling the waves come up across their ankles. He heard Flotsam’s complaint and knew it wasn’t serious. Those kicks of his could take a beating. He’d seen it.

“I’ll rub your feet warm by the fire, how about that?” He said with a grin, intending to start one up once they were inside. Settle in, enjoy what there was, before all of the tourist frenzy and driving around would begin.

The pups were fine in their stroller. The wheels had sunk into the wet ground enough to where it wasn’t going to go rolling off. They were looking up at the grey sky, at a few of the gulls that were flying about. He could see it through his own vision, thus he wasn’t worried about them at the moment. His attention was on his husband, and the way that he was getting some praise for picking a good spot. Well, if he kept that up, he might start getting a praise kink.

The kiss was one out of a movie, no doubt. A kiss at the ocean, the salty waters, the air coming in, their short hair flying all around, but it wouldn’t truly be one of their moments without a bit of fun coming in, like falling down into the water. Thomas started to laugh, really laugh, giving into his fate and putting his arms under the water to support himself back onto his arse. Of course Flo brought him down, he would have done the exact same.

He was in no rush to get back up, but watched with amusement, as small wave over wave made its way over his kneecaps now, as Flotsam tried to get back up. “Alas, seems you’ve found some buried treasure,” He grinned, finally getting up, little stones in his shoes and sand covering his jeans. “At least half a dozen, I’d wager. But this one, we’ll keep separate since it’s special.”

Flo’s hands pointed back and forth between one another all excited about the wavelength page. “We’re vibing, babe. Love that about us. You know I keep wanting a reason to wear a top hat.” His nose scrunched. So maybe Valerie had wanted a top hat jealous of Thomas’s, Jules’, and Caim’s, but actually, so was Flo. Valerie eventually got her hat. But, that didn’t stop Flo from wanting a reason to wear a glittery one. “And you just look so good in leather and on motorcycles. Eddie makes so much sense. You’ll be the hottest Eddie there ever was.” Rocky was wrong. So wrong. It was the sort of thing or hilarity that wasn’t meant for public laughter. It reminded him of the time he’d never forgive Clopin for trying to dress Thomas up in booty shorts and knee sox on pride day right after he’d come out of the closet with him and all Flotsam wanted was to have a nice day of being proud of being themselves once they actually finally could be. It was not Thomas’s best look. Rocky was just as wrong. “Yes, it’ll make me feel like Clopin tried to dress you and make you into a cross between him and Richard Simmons again. Let’s not revisit that.” He laughed. “I’ve seen enough gold underwear wearing men to last me a lifetime walking around my house living with the Trouillefous.” Flotsam gave a little shiver like he was remembering something scary he couldn’t unsee. 

He kept laughing about the Titanic. “Ten bucks says they have a chinsey version of the blue heart necklace in the gift shop. Ten more bucks says I’ll buy one for everyone if they do.” He laughed even harder at it. 

As for a ship name? Something with Merry? “No bad. I’m not against it. Put a pin in that. We’ll work on it.” 

Rub his feet by the fire? “Was there a fire place?” He didn’t even notice as he went through, but he was all about that. 

“Buried treasure. I like that.” He said as he turned it to get a closer look at the white and mauve scallop shaped seashell. Maybe it wasn’t a rare one, but it was flawless. There wasn’t a chip on it’s bowed edges. So shiny too. Strange. Almost unnerving how perfect it was. He wanted to put it somewhere safe so he wouldn’t mess it up. But, he saw it as a good sign. It was a good start to the vacation. 

“Yeah, it’s a special one. Our kiss found it.” That’s how Flo saw it. “I think that’s why it’s that color. We made it blush.” He thought himself clever for that one as he pushed himself over to Thomas and showed him a little closer. 

Then Flo leaned right over him in the water and kissed his head before looking out at the ocean. The sky might have had the gray dreary of Ireland, but that was Flo’s favorite. He was absolutely alight within it. He didn’t need the tropics and palms trees. He wasn’t a California boy. He was more likely to follow Maddy into her snow shoe world of winter cabins than some place he was going to sweat his ass off and get a heat stroke. That was not for the leather clad Doc wearing guy. 

“I can’t believe we get to step out to this the whole time we’re here.” Thomas scored on this one. They already had their castle in Spain... ex that... castle in Rohan. Whatever this place would end up in Flo’s mind who knew, but it was special already. Sometimes trips were just trips. But, sometimes there was something magical about a trip that seal it in his mind. It was already starting to happen. He could feel it. 

He pushed himself up. “Okay. Let’s get the kids. Let’s get settled in. Let’s eat right out here on the beach. Get them in their swim diapers.” He clapped. He knew the water routine with kids. “This is going to be great. Kids. Sand. Making sure they don’t eat it and stick it in their eyes. Sand castles. Buckets. Floaties. Towels.”

Then when he reached the shore back to the kids and his clothes were stuck to him all sopping which kept a smile on his face because that in of itself was funny, he picked up his phone from the stroller bag rather glad it hadn’t been in his pocket when he heard it going off. 

“I’m going to set my phone to family mode.” He rolled his eyes. He had family mode which only allowed his family’s notifications to get through. Anyone else that had an emergency for them could get ahold of them without a phone. 

“It’s Caim texting me. Says Silvain comes here a lot. Tray informed him we came here. Wants to know if we’ll watch his on Titanic day. Him and Adam. The snake kid. Remember we met him at Caim’s dinner, in Venice? I guess the Titanic is one of his things. Caim says we won’t have to babysit him as long as Silvain is around. Just make sure they don’t run off till Trinity picks them back up. I think he’s really asking us to babysit his kid and his weird keeper while we’re on vacation for a day. Can we say no to a demon?” He laughed at the thought not really wanting to look his most thankful gift horse in the mouth. “Not sure I really mind the company to one museum, I guess. Do you?” 

After a lovely evening with his husband, lovely. Lovely. Flotsam's mind started to realize a part of them was always Valerie and just like parts of Flo remained in Val, Val's manner of speech/thinking was still in Flo. He did. He had a god damn lovely evening with his husband before packing for Ireland. Now he remembered why he missed having a dick though. How lucky was he to experience his handsome husband every way possible?

He woke in a good mood. Even going back to bottle mode didn't feel as intense as it did the first time now that he'd gotten to switch back and forth. There was a safe feeling in knowing all he had to do was take off the necklace if Valerie really needed to. All Flo's little secret fears and true wishes were out of the bag so to say and Thomas and his wolf helped put Flo at ease there too. Halloweening was on the list of to dos. So Flo wasn't freaking out. Everything was going to be okay no matter where in the world they were. He still wanted to get away after all he'd learned of himself in the middle of what else had been stressing him. So he was back to escapism mode with the vacation wanting to get away, but really, it wasn't so heavy anymore. Thomas was still being the fix it guy for him and all it took was a conversation he never wanted to have.

The first thing Flotsam did was start to write a list of things he wanted to do before leaving Ireland. Order mattered not. He found the basics, as far as basics go for him. He isn't the sort to want to tour every damn castle in Ireland or anywhere else in Europe. But, Blarney Castle he'd go for.

"Babe. So fair warning. I'm taking the kids to carry out their first felony. We will accomplish a family heist at the Blarney Castle and steal plants from the Poison Garden. Goals. I have them."

Go to Blarney Castle

Kiss the Blarney stone

Steal plants from the Poison Garden

The Northern Lights

See The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Grand Opera House in Belfast ((because it has to be fate that's playing while they're there))

The National Leprechaun Museum

Titanic Museum

Goals indeed. "Northern lights. Pretty sure there's somewhere in Ireland you can see them. I so wished you were there when I got to go to Alaska. I wished it the whole time we were staring at the sky. Not that I told anyone this back then because I was still in young crush me who refuses to tell anyone I like you in that wayish. But, we can see them in Ireland too. Even better. Your green world. Meant to be. Has to happen."

He was googling things on their way there, in parking lots, in lines, sitting around waiting for flights, all those boring moments he took his moment to play tourist. He spoke as they were on their way to the rental.

"Rocky Horror is playing at the Grand Opera House. Feels like an authentic Irish experience to me." He laughed having a hard time picturing Rocky Horror being done with Irish accents and couldn't help not smiling. "Leprechaun museum for cheesy pictures with the kids and Titanic Museum for morbid pictures of us having fun taking end of ship movie photos at what's essentially a memorial of dead people's things drudged up from bottom of the ocean, Captain. Gotta love capitalism." He said with his own cheesy grin.

He grinned over at him when he called him Captain remembering their date on the boat. He really liked that. "We should buy a boat. Also this is the last trip without Pippin. I'm getting her a damn plane for real. The one I would have ended up getting Chip. I halted on that because of his zombie-thing worried that maybe he shouldn't be flying around after all wings or not. But, Pip's still clear headed. If anything they can fly together and she can take over if he zombies out."

They were building an air strip out in Nola. It's all Feral now. They were probably never going back any how. Time to consider where to keep a private plane elsewhere.

When they finally pulled into the rental and Flotsam got to see where his escape was going to be he smiled. It felt like something Thomas would pick.

"Look at you giving us the real deal experience, Cap. This is so great. Perfect for all of us." He kept picturing him with the sea behind him. Something kept making his mind go back to that date. He remembered how Thomas looked with the blue waves of adventure behind him. But, he really did like the privacy there. With the triplets he liked their own space. He'd accept the maid service for the time being. Flo's one of those people who would rather do something himself than have people near him sometimes. So, it would be no wonder if he ever called them off or put a do not disturb on the property as a whole because fuck people. No maid outfit required for Thomas. It would probably weird Flo out if he did.

"Oh, you know what else I want to do at some point? Go to the rebel poet's pub. James Clarence Mangan. I don't know the name of it. But, I know it's in Ireland. I'll find it if I look it up. But, I heard he haunts a pub in Ireland. I'm going to find out if it's true." Leave it to Flotsam to want to go get autographs of dead celebrities, not live ones. "Maybe Leap Castle, but only because I know it's like one of the hauntedier ones and I would love to see the murder hole, but really. I don't need to see every castle in Ireland, ya feel me?"

Then right as he said ya feel me as he walking through the quaint style cottage of neutral colors he spotted the prize winner of the property. The ocean.

"Oh!"

It was ocean front property. Flotsam started to glow. He didn't need River's inner physical glow to see this beaming straight from the inside out. He stopped yick yacking and his whole face lit up.

"Oh my fucking a-hole. Look at that. Look what you did. We are sitting next to the ocean. Like... on purpose. We can just walk outside and it's... it's right there." He pointed out at it over top of the stroller he'd been pushing. "Right there." He jumped enough to where both feet came off the floor and knees rose waist high. His feet in those heavy kicks stamped back down. "Right there, Thomas. It's right there. Real ocean."

They didn't have to get into a car and drive there first, get the car and go home after, consider the light of day, or night, length of travel back for drying off, cleaning up, anything that beach brings on. It wasn't a lake shore. It wasn't a river's shore like on the old Mississippi. It wasn't a swamp. It was a real life ocean shore.

"Right. There." He kept pointing.

[samstree]

A Study in Blushing

In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.

(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)

Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.

read on AO3

“Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”

Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.

The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.

“W...What did you—”

“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”

“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.

Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”

“No...?”

“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”

With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!” he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”

Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”

“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”

“No!”

Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.

“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”

“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”

 ~~

Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.

Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.

Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.

Although that would be really cute.

“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.

Hmm.

No tripping over words.

“Thank you, dear heart.”

He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.

Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.

Not subtle enough.

“Something on my face?”

“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”

Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.

Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.

 ~~

The snow is terrible.

The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.

Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.

Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—

And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.

“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.

“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.

“Here, let me.”

Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.

“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.

“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”

Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”

He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.

Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.

“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.

Oh.

His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold

Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.

A blushing witcher.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”

“Um, sure���not cold.”

And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.

If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.

Geralt does blush.

Because of him.

He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.

Jaskier is so drunk on power.

The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!

Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.

Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.

He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.

And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.

The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.

He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.

“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”

Huh, he’s said it out loud.

“Saying what things?”

Well, if it’s out there…

“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”

His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.

“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.

“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”

“Told you what?”

The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.

“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”

Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.

“You are not making sense, Jask.”

“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.

Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.

But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.

“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”

The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.

“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.

The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.

Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.

“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”

Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.

“Geralt, are you—ow!”

He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.

There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.

“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”

“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”

The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.

“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.

Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.

“You are too good to me.”

“And you are a pain in the ass.”

Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”

“I need to tell you something.”

“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”

“Let me go first?”

The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?

“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”

“Geralt.”

“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t…not…”

“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”

The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.

“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”

The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.

What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“That you are greedy?”

The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.

“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”

“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.

The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.

“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”

Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“Good.”

Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—

“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”

“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.

Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.

Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”

“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.

Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.

For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.

~~

Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰

On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

[doctorstethoscope]

In the Garden || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

hello babes! Something a little different today-- I didn’t have time to write a request that I was going to be pleased with, so this is something that’s been sitting in my drive for a while. Hope you like it! 

Submit requests here! 

contains: sexual innuendo, gun mention

wordcount: 2.4k

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress, much less a gown like the one JJ was zipping you into now-- dresses weren’t practical for field work with the BAU, and even when you’d worked in the counterterrorism unit, you’d much preferred a professional blouse and pair of slacks. But the First Lady had decided to throw a ball in the White House to celebrate federal employees, and the Bureau was receiving an award, which the Director had hand-picked the BAU to accept. So, gown. Even though you’d much prefer to be changing into a pair of sweats-- you had been called on a case two days before the ball, and Garcia saved the day by running to everyone’s apartments and grabbing their nice clothes so you all wouldn’t be late. Which is how you found yourself squeezing into a sleek off the shoulder number in the Batcave, with Emily batting at your face with a makeup brush and JJ tugging at your zipper. 

“Babe, you look hot.” Penelope says as Emily and JJ step away from you, admiring their work. 

“All Emily’s work,” you deflected with a shy smile. 

“We’ll have that fight when we’re not running late,” Emily said, pulling you out of Garcia’s office, she and JJ not far behind. 

Derek let out a wolf whistle when he saw you all approaching, and you heard JJ’s windchime laugh from a few steps behind. 

“Hello ladies,” he said with an exaggerated leer. 

“Derek Morgan, you’re lucky that my thigh holster doesn’t go with this dress.” Emily spits out, and all of you burst out in laughter. 

“Chocolate thunder, you clean up good,” Garcia says, crossing to Derek, who moved to put his arm around her shoulders as Reid emerged into the bullpen. 

“Speaking of cleaning up good,” JJ says with a small smile, and you catch Reid blushing. 

“Did you know that balls like this can cost American taxpayers up to a million dollars?” He asks the group, and you smile.

“Maybe don’t mention that when the first lady gives us the award, yeah Spence?” You tease, and he treats you to a little chuckle.

You hear Hotch before you turn to see him and Rossi. “Alright, let’s go,” He says, leading the group out of the BAU and towards your SUVs. You end up in the passenger seat of the car Rossi is driving. 

“You doing okay, kid? You’re awful quiet this evening. Invitations to Federal Government Prom don’t come often, you know.” He smirks, and you half-ass a smile in return. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, Rossi. Just tired, you know. Would have preferred to get a night’s sleep in my own bed before we did this, you know?” 

He nods, but there’s no use in lying to a profiler. 

The food, you have to admit, is leagues better than the instant ramen you would have cooked up if you had gone home tonight. And the conversation isn’t half bad either, you admit to yourself as you lazily flirt with Paul, a junior fellow from the Department of Health and Human Services, just barely putting in enough effort to seem interested while allowing your mind to wander.

The sensation of a warm hand in between your exposed shoulder blades distracts you from your train of thought. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron’s deep baritone interrupts Paul’s nervous tenor. “I’d like to cut in for a dance, if you don’t mind.”

Paul sputters, and you laugh, because you know that Aaron was asking you, not this early-thirties politico type that he towered over, both physically and morally. 

“We’ll catch up later?” you said to Paul, with absolutely no intent to catch up later, before Aaron led you out to the dance floor. 

“Hotch, I’m gonna step on your feet.” You warned. 

“No you won’t,” he assures you. “Follow my lead.” 

You do as you’re told, and you’re surprised to realize just how easy it is to follow him, anywhere. 

“Aaron Hotchner, when on Earth did you learn to ballroom dance?” You asked incredulously. 

“Boarding school,” He answers with an easy smile.

“You’re joking,” you accuse. 

“Ah, yes, something I’m known to do.”

“You remain a mystery, Hotchner.”  You tell him.

“I don’t know. That might have been my last secret.” 

You roll your eyes, content to continue dancing, and finding yourself getting distracted again. 

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asks, and you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down in front of your boss. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. But really grateful to be here, of course, and--”

“I wasn’t asking as your boss, you can stand down,” He smirks, dipping you quickly and it takes your breath away. “You’re thinking of leaving.” He says as he lifts you back up, and it’s not a question. 

“How did you-- I can’t believe-- Damn profilers.” You harrumphed. 

“You’ve been distant, the past couple weeks. You’re in your early twenties accepting an award at the White House, by all accounts you should be ecstatic. That’s when I knew something was wrong. And when I saw you with Peter, or whatever his name was, who you couldn’t be less interested in, that’s when I knew it was us.” 

“See, and that’s exactly why I need to leave. Because I’ll never be able to do that.” You tell him, finally looking him in the eye.

“You will,”  He says in a self-assured tone that does nothing to assuage your anxiety.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. 

“I do.” 

“Maybe I’m not good enough, Hotch.” You confess carelessly. He’s already figured you out. Might as well fess up to your deepest insecurities while your boss holds you and stares you down with his deep brown eyes in the middle of the East Room.

“You are,” he says in that same tone, that you’re sure is supposed to be calming but is only infuriating. 

“But maybe I’m not! Maybe I’m one of those people who always wanted to do it, who always wanted to be an agent, but it’s like a pipe dream for me. I don’t contribute to the team the same way everyone else does. I don’t pick up on the things that seem so obvious to all of you, and it sucks. I can still do good work, but you know-- you change your dreams and you grow up. Maybe I’m one of those people and I’m just not supposed to be here. I just can’t stay knowing that I’m not supposed to be here-- I have to leave.” You’re not even sure if your soliloquy makes any sense, but Aaron pulls you a little closer, so he can speak the next few words lowly, directly into your ear. 

“You’ve been here eight months. It takes time. You are an incredible agent, and an asset to this team. I don’t need another profiler that sees the same things we all see-- I need you, and your observations, the things we missed-- those are the things that solve cases. I can’t-- I can’t allow you to change your dream. I can’t let you leave. I need you here.” 

You let his words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks again. 

“The, uh-- the team needs you. We all need you, and your observations, is what I meant.” He stammers. 

“Hotch?’ You ask, confused by the sudden change in tone. 

“Do you want to go get some fresh air? Get away from the crowd?” He asks, pulling away to look at you, and there’s an invitation in his eyes. Maybe a more seasoned profiler would know exactly what it was, but you were excited to find out nonetheless.  

“Yeah, I think I do.”

You’re certain that you’re breaking some sort of law as Hotch pulls you out of the ballroom and down a hallway, his fingers interlocked with yours. You try not to think about it too much. Your heels click against the marble floors as you follow Aaron’s brisk pace, and eventually he finds a door outside, opening it up and allowing you to pass through it first. It takes a minute to place yourself, especially under the cover of night, but after a moment you realize you’re in the rose garden. 

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” You say under your breath with a little laugh as you look out over the sprawling display of flowers and plants. 

“It definitely beats the Quantico courtyard,” Aaron agrees.

“Never thought I’d make it there, either.” You confess, not looking at him.

“But you did. It wasn’t meant to be easy, but you made it, and you’ll grow. You just need time.” He tells you. 

“How can you be so sure?” You ask, feeling your eyes well up. 

“I was young once, too.” He tells you with a self-deprecating grin. 

“You can’t play up the wise, ancient elder with me, Hotch. I’ve seen you chase Jack across a soccer field like you’re still in your twenties.” You laugh, but he can hear the emotions behind it.

“Hey, come on, I mean it. I’m not Rossi, but I’ve got my fair dose of wisdom to share,” he says, moving closer to you and placing a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Let’s keep dancing. If you want to talk, you can talk. But you thought you couldn’t dance, and you could dance, right? So we can keep doing that until you believe me.” He said, pulling your hand up in his and placing his other on your waist. 

The two of you moved slowly, the orchestra from inside only barely audible from where you were standing. With Hotch’s bad ear, he could really only hear it when his body was angled just right in the direction of the East Room, but somehow he had perfect rhythm regardless. You move in silence for a song or two or three before Hotch speaks up again. 

“I lied to you, earlier.” He confesses, still guiding you effortlessly through a simple waltz. 

“How do you mean?” You ask, suddenly nervous that you were right, that you’re a complete failure of an agent, and that you need to pack your bags and head on back to Kansas.

“I lied when I said that I’d told you my last secret.”

“Oh,” you said, too caught up in your own head to try to understand what he was saying.

“And I lied when I told you that I meant the team needed you--” you felt that bone-crushing weight on your soul again-- “we do, of course, but that’s not what I meant.” 

“Hotchner, what are you talking about?” You finally asked, no longer able to tolerate the emotional whiplash of his conversation.

“When I said I needed you, I meant it.” 

“Oh,” you say, your face a portrait of shock and confusion, even though you understood him completely. 

“That’s selfish of me as a person, and wrong of me as your superior, and maybe that means that I’m outing myself as the kind of fucked-up person that isn’t worth another second of your time, but I needed you to know.” He stops dancing now, tries to hedge a bit of space between you without letting you go entirely. 

“Aaron,” you whisper, clinging to him more tightly as he pulls away, feeling his jacket wrinkle under your fingernails. 

“Yes?” he whispers back. 

“I’m glad you told me,” you tell him, and that’s all the permission he needs to take your face in both of your hands and kiss you, with a gentleness that makes you feel like spun gold, with the reverence of a man who knows that love is not a game, with the hunger of one who has been starved for months. 

He pulls away from you, too soon, and your eyes are wet. “My resignation will be on your desk by Monday morning.”

He takes a step away. “What do you--” 

“Goodnight, Aaron,” You tell him with a sad little smile, turning around towards the door you came from and leaving him in the garden.

You’re drowning your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s when the doorbell rings the next day. You swing the door open grumpily, to reveal Aaron. 

“It’s Saturday, and you can’t turn in your resignation until 9am Monday. What can I do in the next forty eight hours to convince you that you belong here?” Aaron asks, still standing in the hall of your apartment complex.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. You can’t give him what he wants, but you won’t have this argument where all the neighbors will hear, either. “It’s too late, Hotch.”

“It’s not too late,” he argues, checking his watch. “I have forty six hours and thirteen minutes.”

“I’ll still be the girl who got this job on her back forty six hours from now.” You tell him, folding your arms.

“You’ll be what?” He asks, incredulous. 

“I know that you heard me loud and clear. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know that you slept with Erin Strauss. I didn’t think you were her type.” He says, and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re absolutely incorrigible!” You cry out. 

“Who implied that you got this job on anything other than your own merit?” Aaron asks, a glint in his eye that lets you know that they’ll be handled just as soon as he gets you to shred the letter of resignation you drafted last night.

“Didn’t I? You didn’t clear my promotion because you were attracted to me?” You asked.

“I cleared your promotion before we even met-- your interview was a bureau formality. Your reputation and the glowing recommendations from your peers in counterterrorism spoke volumes.”  He assures you.

“Oh,” you let out, your anger deflating. 

“If you want to leave because of my inappropriate behavior, please reconsider. I’m incredibly sorry for--” He starts, but you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Please continue to be inappropriate,” you tell him in between kisses. 

He smiles as he continues to place kisses across your face, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “Right now?” He asks, slipping a hand underneath your shirt.  “You want me to be inappropriate right now?” 

“If you’re really good at it, I’ll let you tear up my resignation yourself.” 

@romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse @scuttling

[moonlightwritesdisney]

YOU. — Wyatt Lykensen

Pairing: Wyatt Lykensen X FEMALE! READER

Requested: Yes / No

Warnings: vulgar swearing. descriptions of blood. unhealthy behavior. mentions of rape.

Author’s Note: please note that you (the reader) and wyatt are both adults in this image. Just to clear up any confusion!

Summary: The first time he saw you he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He follows you everywhere. He gets jealous when he sees you invite a friend over for old times sake. Things go way to far. You will be his.

HE ALLOWED THE LOUD CHATTER and birds song in the bright summer square of ZombieTown to be slowly drowned out by all his pulsing thoughts. He stood in the distance observing you. Out of all the people that passed by blocking his view, he kept his hard eye on you.

 The way your soft brunette curls laid untouched just inches away from your descending chest. Echoes of your honey dripping laugh rang through his twitching ears. The jealously and anger only grew worse.

Unbeknownst to you, not aware of the wolf watching you had just finished a few hours of shopping, you were making your way down towards the central parking just by ZombieTown’s large water fountain before you were stopped by an old school friend — who was male. 

He was so surprised to see, he complimented you and watched you laugh in sweetness. Both of you stood their for at least 20 minutes catching up on old burnt out memories he was trying to re-flame. He could read your mind. He felt the same as you. He knew you were uncomfortable and wanted to make a fast escape. You didn’t trust this guy but.

“Hey uhm- i was actually wondering if you’d like to have dinner and a movie tonight?” Was this guy serious? After a twenty minute conversation?! You weren’t one to be rude because of your passive personality. “Oh — uhm sure! I’d like that. I’ll be there at seven o’clock”.

 And with that you were off and on your way home. Wyatt watched as you retreated towards the silver Cadillac you owned in the parking lot. He watched all around him. He glared at the young man who was walking the opposite way. That dumb human. He couldn’t stand a chance against him.

Nonetheless, he knew you’d be his one day. He’d let you have the little amount of happiness this human could spare for a while. He’d imagine you helpless crying and running straight into his arms. The way your head laid on his shoulder while he rubbed your back in a calming manner.

 Leaving little kisses on our neck when he was in the mood, the warm feeling of both your sweaty bodies pressed together in pure erotic euphoria. Tingles ran down his spine as he imagines your soft smile in his mind. His heart raced at the thought of your body. Every curve and edge. All the imperfections you could name he’d find absolutely exhilarating.

“Hey man, curfew’s almost up you have to leave”. Another voice snapped him out of deep personal thoughts, he eyed a stern looking officer dressed in a blue SeaBrook uniform, who was very tired and just wanted to go home. He nodded his way respectfully and exited the shopping plaza. The walk to your house wasn’t long. 

The city had separate ZombieTown’s main housing and shopping lot so you had to drive at least a small distance to venture for a desired shopping day. He had taken the path towards your small apartment plenty of times, along with being a wolf came with advanced speed so he made due time. The sky swirled with light pinks and oranges making a beautiful sunset in the small town.

The crunching of grass under his feet made his anxious as he took a deep breathe, his footsteps became silent in worries of you discovering him. He stood calmly in your background his ears twitching hearing you humming to yourself softly — he figured you were in the shower getting ready for you date.

A scoff left his red lips in jealousy, he hated that it wasn’t him. ‘in due time’. He thought to himself confidently as he caught attention to light fogs of steam arising from the running shower. Now, Wyatt was no prude but he absolutely couldn’t resist. His curious brown eyes peered above the brick ledge.

A gasp hitched in his throat. His heart could explode at any moment. Their you stood, pampering yourself in the shower. Looking ever so beautiful. The water dripping down your pale dark skin. Your green textured hair soaking up the moisture from the water. 

He bit down on his lip as goosebumps shot up his back. You were marvelous. Your beautiful voice flowing through his ears as you sung. His eyes grew yellow, his animalistic nature taking full control. Fangs flashed from his mouth.

He tightened his fist in frustration. He wanted to take you right then and there. ‘All mine’. He thought as he found himself skewing up dirty — unholy images in his mind of him senselessly fucking you, clinging to him as you screamed his name. He knew it was wrong. The tightening he felt in his boxers was painful. Too painful to even bear. He wanted you, every inch. 

To him you were everything. All his. After having to agonize through his painful boner he regained composure after zipping up his pale brown pants and moved stalkingly towards the right his eyes casting view into your bedroom window, the soft white shades slightly parted allowing him to see through.

Different collages and pictures of close friends and things you adored plastered all over your walls. Small shelves that held small knickknacks and small plants lightly attracting ray of sunlight bent at the wall. Your bed, freshly made with the soft maroon red and pillows with the dark hues of blue designed with golden tassels laid neatly, untouched.

 You were somewhat messy, but very articulate and decorative. Which he adored. Small white bookshelves filled to the end with large literature of your liking. Pushed up against your light grey accent wall. Posters and cute pieces of art made by yourself were taped just above your bed post.

He adored your room. It was full of positivity, light, and all things that you adored. The sweet vanilla and shea scent from your body streamed into his nose like a running river. Licking his lips in anticipation he closed his eyes and exhaled your delectable scent. 

You walks into the small atmosphere the cold air hitting your bare legs, missing the warmth of the water and steam capture your body in a relaxing shower. It was a sewer green like color to which your full cheeks spread into a large smile ‘perfect’.

After reaching for a pair of distressed and ripped jeans that you had seen in the corner of your eye you pulled down the chain to your light which shut off you quickly threw your clothing on your bed and sat down on the edge freeing the sparkling red cap on your lotion squeezing the lotion onto your hand. 

It smelt amazing, ever since zombies had fought for more equality from the humans. Zombies from everywhere where now able to walk into any store much to the similar human version of their Victoria Secret and others. To which they could by all sorts of cute lipglosses, lotions, night wear, and clothing. The sweet deep smell of cinnamon and rose entered your nostrils as you rubbed the lotion into your calves working your way up to the top of your thighs.

The black pupils widened in arousel and wonder as he stared into the inside of your window without your knowledge — your hands slowly rubbing the white substance on the curve of your plush butt. He was awe stricken, so captivated by the goddess he had known as you. His heart thumped wildly in his chest he couldn’t get enough of you.

 Your finger pulled up the red belt loops of the maroon jeans your legs fitted around, securing the gold buttons of your jeans into the red holes in front. You sighed and fumbled with the thin green fabric you scrunched up the material and pushed your head through, then your arms.

You stood in front of the large white rimmed body mirror that leaned against the back wall with a cute colorful tapestry laid over it with pictures of close friends and fun stickers plastered on the corners of the glass. You loved the way your outfit looked. You felt very satisfied. A huge smile spread across your cheeks. The left of your head swung towards the opening crack of your door — the ring of your front doorbell. 

You drowned in confusion, your eyes reached over to read the square alarm clock on your night side table. ‘6:24’. ‘He is only twenty minutes early’. Which you thought was very weird. You had just met back with your old elementary friend hours ago , and only after having a seemingly awkward conversation for twenty minutes you agree to go on a date but he’s twenty minutes early?!

You pondered at the all the possibilities as to why he suggested this. But nonetheless you shook the feeling away and picking up your towel placing it in your pale green clothing hamper. Stepping out of your room and down into the wide hallway your fingers wrapped around the chilling gold door handle and yanked it open.

 There he stood, bouncing eagerly on his toes. His hair slicked back with hair spray, the clothing he wore was doused with heavy calogne — the foul heavy smell of the body spray stung at your nose the second you opened your front door. Which was something you didn’t find attractive at all. The wide smile he wore seemed like it was too toiled. Like he was trying to hard. His clothes. Ew.

He wore a bright blue and white plaid buttoned, with a black lambskin jacket over it unbuttoned, dark blue low waisted jeans and light brown flats. Yikes. How human of him. You absolutely hated what he was wearing. You knew he was being desperate. You could see it in his body language and his expression. You spotted bright red roses — in front of him you would have scoffed and sent him away.

 If he truly remembered you he would have remembered you like sunflowers instead of basic red roses. How bland. But instead, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. You knew the crippling and heart breaking sorrow of rejection, you were a zombie of course so being cast out was something you knew all to well. Instead you tilted your head to the side and forced your cheeks into a great smile.

“Are these flowers for me?” You asked clasping your hands together. He looked down then up at your a small smirk plastering on his thin lips — ‘ABSOLUTELY NOT SIR PLEASE GOD SO DISGUSTING’. These thoughts screamed in your mind as you watched him with pure unattractive as his licked his lips “yes they are actually”.

 He said with a very man-ly chuckle “they reminded me of you so I picked them up at the zombie market in town on my way here”. As if this dude wasn’t trying hard enough. He truly had to glamorize the fact that he picked the flowers up at a zombie store instead of the regular human one. So he was racist and trying to hard. Great. You let out an awkward laugh and stepped aside allowing him in before the air became filled with his disgusting aroma.

You had retrieved the flowers from his hand and immediately threw them carelessly on the counter. He didn’t question it but instead following closely behind you. ‘I’ll burn them later’. You thought with a pleasing smirk that played on your face. He had already sat down in your living space his flats sprawled on the floor and his feet kicked up on your glass coffee table. Dog behavior. You rolled your eyes he was stupid and too dumb to even understand basic manners.

 Football was playing on your small flat screen, you had taken a seat next to him your feet flat on the floor, your toes curling in the soft plush carpet. “Would you like something to drink?” you asked politely, the man turned his attention towards you, a curl in his lip “hm sure, the finest wine you’ve got?” He requested you stood up and went into the small kitchen opening the oak cabinet next to the sink you had set both wine glasses down on the marble countertop. 

The dark brown hues in your eyes scanned out the closed window above your sink watching the bright pink sky combine with beautiful colors of orange and red cascading over the oval clouds. You twisted the cork out of the bottle of white wine you had just bought from ‘Z’s Gruesome Groceriez” in ZombieTown. 

You wondered if this human had tasted zombie issued wine before, since well zombie wine was a lot more bitter than regular human liquor / wine. It had a hint of brains. You shrugged with a ‘hmp’. ‘He’s too dumb to even notice anyway’.

After filling both glasses to the half point you held both of them in your hands and carefully walked back into the living room where the human sat on your white leather couch his eyes and full attention soaking into the fourth quarter and a fumbling ball. 

You cleared your throat to catch his attention, he smiled towards you and took the wine glass from your right hand and thanked you focusing his content back on the television. “So .. what are you doing for work now?” you asked trying to break the awkward tension to which he perked up after taking a small sip and setting it down.

 “Oh well I’d never thought you’d ask, I work as SeaBrook patrolman, you?” You ignored the sting in your gut “I work as a journalist and a proud activist for the Zombie’s and Werewolves’ against discrimination movement, or ZAWAD, it supports the bright culture of both werewolves and zombies and brings everyone together. 

We try to unite the communities in SeaBrook instead of pushing away and we absolutely do try our best too peacefully speak our thoughts and have mindful conversations without violence.” 

You spoke proudly watching his intense expression burn into your eyes. He nodded slowly and pursed his lips which confused you nonetheless you still tried to ignore the screaming inside your head and gut ‘make him leave’. ‘this is going to end badly’. Chills scattered down your back in anxiousness.

 “That’s interesting and ... very sexy actually, your very passionate about it i can tell”. You internally cringed at that word coming out of his mouth. ‘Sexy’. He definitely wanted something, and it wasn’t a genuine conversation. You froze with disgust his nimble tender cold fingers resting on your knee. “oh uhm, thanks i guess”.

 You spoke trying to give him the hint, you weren’t interested even  if he was the last person on earth you wouldn’t. His hand inched closer towards your inner thigh a evil smirk plastered on his face. “god your so sexy”. He then leaned his lips towards yours capturing you in his grasp. You didn’t give an inch, you squealed in protest.

 You moved your arms to his biceps and tried to push him way from you , he refused now he was on top of you. His rough calloused hands slide up towards your collarbone, you groaned in anger “can you please just stop-- STOP!”  You shouted, his breathe was hot against your neck his left hand slide up towards your neck and pressed down onto your windpipe. 

You gasped gritting your teeth, you used your right hand to try and push him off but his strength held your arm down. You felt helpless, weak, worthless to know that you had somehow allowed this disgusting being to get ahold of you. That is, until you felt him grasping the metal of your Z-band. 

You knew that taking it off could potentially be a very dangerous action, which was only to be taken off in emergencies only. This was a very big problem and it needed to be stopped. His hand gripped the clasp of your band, you felt the dark veins pulsating throughout your body. 

Using the strength to lift your left hand which caused a small chime from your Z-band to sound, it unclasped from you wrist and fell somewhere on the floor. In just a few seconds the light around your eyes had turned a deep purple cracks plunging from under them. A low growl erupted from your stomach then submerged to your throat. 

The man felt you vibrate from below him, he had suddenly noticed you had changed. He gasped and stood up as you growled and snarled, you inched closer towards him as he took steps back defensively. “Stay the hell away from me you bitch!” He shouted sternly but the anger was hot and boiling inside of you. 

Turning into a zombie was something you couldn’t control. It was coded in your genes. Once your Z-band was ripped from you the monster took over inside you, just as it did for anyone. Your vision had turned completely red. The low grumbles and growling roared within you, this is what you were. A monster, and damn, were you proud of it. 

You stepped closer to the cowering man as he flared his arms towards you, which unfortunately, only agitated you more. In this moment you were gone, the zombie inside you was controlling you, and you smelt fear. Which was a bad thing. “Your a waste of human life”. Your normal quiet spoken speech had transformed into a lower deep growl. Using your zombie strength you grabbed the human by his leather collar and bite deeply into his neck, the loud scream leaving the dry of his throat. 

The blood seeped out of his neck like a river, you lifted him to meet eyes with a demon like growl “next time you better stop”. You seethed before letting him drop to the ground, the now scared human scrambled towards his feet holding the gushing wound his hand covered in red. He disappeared out of the living space and out of your life forever. Or at least you hoped he did. Grunting you walked over towards the crack between the couch and the pale wall, getting on your hands and knees you reach down for the metal bracelet. 

After securing it in your grasp you immediately push the clasps together around you wrist. ‘Online’. You let a content sigh slumping back beside the wall the dark veins in your arms slowly recoiled from your arms and legs. Your back ached and your head pounded. The sweet tasting blood of the humans still resting on your lips and along your cheeks. 

Finally, after about a few seconds you steadily returned to your feet. Ignoring the few blood spatters that were now fresh on the floor. ‘I’ll clean it up later”. You let a deep sigh release from your lips as you picked up the two wine glasses and brought them to the kitchen and discarded of the waste in the sink. 

You were fashioned in the bathroom taking a warm cloth and bringing it towards your face wiping off the dried blood. You sucked in a breathe the sound of your beating heart filling your ears. You didn’t feel at all ashamed for what you had done. That bastard human deserved it.

 The overbearing of your anxiety flared, you were worried you might get in huge trouble, since unfortunately, the human is never to blame. You had gone to bed that night in hopes for a better day the next morning -- the only problem was, he saw everything.   

[hakasims]

The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes​ who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

[urimaginespimp]

How You Get The Girl (This Love Final Part)

Bucky x Reader (elemental witch)

Set on TFATWS last episode

Note: Thank you to everyone that's tuned in, gave feedbacks, and liked/reblogged. I had to so much fun writing these! After this I’ll be working on oneshots completely unrelated to this story of several prompts.

We got a new Cap!

Previous Part: Untouchable

Marvel Masterlist

--------

“I’m serious, Shuri. I am over him.” you groaned as Shuri won’t wipe off the smug, disbelieving look on her face.

“Sure, Jan.” She replied getting up to continue on what’s she’s working on.

“Hey, I know that reference!”

“I’m just saying... Seven years of pinning over the guy – which five of it was when he was practically dead, by the way – and you’re telling me it took one confrontation for you to get over him.” She shrugged.

Some of the Dora Milaje were also in the lab, and you haven’t been vocal about it, but you didn’t miss the knowing looks they’ve been exchanging every time Bucky was brought in the conversation.

“Well, it would really be nice if you’re being supportive right now.” you sulked in your seat. Yeah, who were you kidding. Maybe you’re not completely, completely over him, but now you’re sorting to the fake it ‘til you make it method and so far, you’re doing well.

“Okay, fine. Want me to set you up with someone? My brother has some contacts around the world and I think with some buttering up he’d consider setting you up to bachelor royalties.” She wiggled her brows at you.

“May I suggest the Prince of Brunei? The internet says he’s looking for a wife.” One of the ladies snickered, making the others hum in approval.

“T’Challa knows him?” this piqued your interest. “He’s pretty hot.”

“Well make up your mind. It’ll take me a few business days of persuading my brother.” She raised her brows at you.

“It wouldn’t hurt to start dating. I’ll think about it first.” you muttered, missing how Shuri winked at the other ladies in the room. Ayo had told her in private about Bucky’s little confession to Zemo, and the princess has a few tricks up her sleeve to speed up the matchmaking process.

“I’m only staying for a few days more. It’s been a few weeks and Val’s been complaining from lack of sleep.” She’s been taking over your nightly escapades, and it’s starting to irritate her to be surrounded with so much booze but not being able to indulge.

Just then, Okoye enters the lab. “Check the news. There’s a live coverage of a hostage in New York. Sam and White Wolf are on it.”

--------

Bucky was looking over proudly as Sam was talking to the Senator.

Seeing Sam now walking over to him, he straightened up and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I uh was texting and all I heard was um a black guy in stars and stripes.”

They both chuckled, now walking side by side. “Nice job, Cap.”

“Thanks.”

--------

He’s done it. He told Yori the truth. Though now that might have been the end of their friendship, he knew the old man deserves the closure for his son.

Now back in his apartment, he took the notebook Steve once owned from his pocket, and opened it to the page where his list is. Looking over it, he saw that the only name left uncrossed is yours.

Just then, his phone pinged twice. One message was from Sam, and the other one from Shuri.

Sam’s read:

I wasn’t kidding when I told you

back on the boat that I’d get the

younger ones here to give you a

crash course on romance.

Check your email.

He rolled his eyes and opened the one from Shuri.

Y/N’s explained everything to us.

We saw you save those people,

White Wolf. Wakand is proud of you.

Brother says you’re welcome to

visit anytime. Take care!

p.s.

It’s good to know Y/N and you are

are on good terms. It finally allowed me

to set her up with one of the princes

mother’s been pestering me about. One less

off of mother’s list for me.

“Damn it, Shuri.” he groaned, reading the last part over and over again. He had to move fast. Heading over to his email, he opened the one from Sam.

The subject says:

21st century romance for reformed dummies.

There was an attached 60-second video. Clicking on it, he chuckled when Sam’s voice started booming behind the camera, where it showed two young girls and one boy, all around below 10 years of age.

“Okay, I gathered you here today because a cyborg friend of mine is need of help. I already filled you in the details necessary earlier, and all you have to do now is give him quick tips. Remember, talk slow.”

The boy on the middle spoke up. “Is she an avenger?”

“Not important, but yes. It’s the one with similar powers to an avatar.” Sam answered, followed by the two girls saying they know which one, and the boy to mutter ‘damn it I always had a crush on her...’

“Okay the first step would obviously be to say sorry.” the girl on the right said directly to the camera.

“Oh! Extra points if you do it standing like a ghost outside her door and it’s about to rain.” the other girl from the left perked up.

“I said he’s a cyborg, not a weatherman.” Sam commented, still behind the camera.

“Say you were afraid to tell her what you want.” the first girl spoke again.

“Six months is a long time to be afraid, man.” the boy in the middle spoke up this time.

“Try years.” Sam muttered.

“Then you say you want her for worse or for better!” The cheery girl exclaimed once again.

“You’ve been playing too many fake weddings, but yes, that could work.” Sam told her, making her beam, showing a missing tooth.

“Tell her you could wait forever and ever.” the boy added.

“I mean he’s already old enough to be your great grandpa but go on I guess.” Sam was snickering, causing the camera to slightly shake.

“Remind her of how it used to be. That is if he was good to her.” the more mature girl was pointing out. “Saying you’ll put her heart back together could also work.” she smiled, and the other one fake swooned on where she was standing.

“She’s right!” she exclaimed, while boy nods and says “that’s how it works.” at the same time.

Now turning the camera, Sam was now in frame.

“And that’s how you get the girl, Barnes. Straight from the local’s experts. Don’t fuck it up.”

And three voices scolded him for saying a bad word as the clip ends.

--------

It didn’t take long for him to take a flight straight to Norway where New Asgard was. This time without the aid of Zemo’s jet, he had to find the means to travel from the airport, while trying to calm his nerves.

As if the universe was on his side, a couple claiming to be heading back to Asgard allowed him to hitch a ride with them.

Now on the backseat, he tried to make small talk.

“So, uh, how are you guys settling in the planet?” he asked.

The lady on the passenger seat turned to face him with a smile. “It wasn’t easy, really. But the princess went out of her way to educate us about life here on Midgard. She’s so good at it, you’d forget she hasn’t even been living here a decade.”

He smiled. They claim you as their princess despite only being adopted by Thor. He recalls how you once rambled about being scared that they’d be indifferent towards you once Thor brings you to Asgard, one of the reasons you’ve been making up excuses to go with him.

“Why, would you look at that. We’re just in time before it starts raining.” The man driving commented.

Peeking through the window, sure enough, the sky was getting darker.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” he muttered. He might just take the little girl’s advice after all.

After getting out of the couple’s car, he ran straight to where he remembers your home was, just in time when Val just got out of your house.

“Hi. I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Bucky.” He greeted extending his ahand to her which she took. A skeptical look on her face.

“Call me Val. I’m sorry what are you doing here?”

“I need to speak to Y/N, please.” He answered truthfully.

“Well it’s about night time so she’s getting dolled up.” She answered

“I know, I know, it’s for her date. But that’s why I’m here.”

Val raised a brow, confused about what date he was getting all bummed about when you were only getting ready to go back to looking out for people out and about at night. But then it dawned to her that maybe this was some of your friend’s doing.

“Y-yes... the date.” She decided to play along, holding back a smirk. Just then, rain started slowly pouring, along with thunder. “Well shit, I have to help some folks get their kids back inside their homes now. You’re free to knock on her door.” She excused herself.

His own clothes were starting to get drenched when he finally knocked on your door.

No answer. He knocked again, louder this time. Now footsteps were heard coming to the door, and the knob turned as you opened it.

“Damn it, Val, the door’s not even lo-” You stopped talking, surprised at the figure that greeted you.

“Bucky... are you insane? Don’t just stand there, come in it’s raining hard.” he urged him to get in and closed the door behind you.

Facing each other, he was taking you in. Val wasn’t lying when she said you were getting ready for your date. He can’t believe he was already getting jealous of a faceless punk.

“So uh... what brings you here?” You decided to break the ice, fidgeting where you stood, still barefoot as it looked like you were gonna have to stay at home if it was going to rain this hard all night.

“Don’t go on the date.” he pleaded, confusing you.

“What?”

“Please don’t go on the date.” He repeated, now walking towards you.

There is no date, but now you were wondering why he’s telling you not to.

“Why?”

“I love you.” he answered without missing a beat, now stepping closer to you. Instead of the reaction he was hoping for, you scoffed and took a step back.

“Don’t pull a Laurie on me.” you replied, a frown etched on your face. He was confused.

“A Laurie?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen enough adaptations of Little Women to know that you’re pulling a Laurie on me.” You spat as a matter of fact. “You’re being really mean, stop it.” you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“What? I- I haven’t even thought of that reference!” he defends himself, cheeks reddening from embarrassment. “Amy was gonna get married, Y/N.”

“Oh then by all means, feel free to come back just after he proposes.”

“W- We’re getting sidetracked here, doll. I came here hoping there still an ounce of you that loves me. Please don’t tell me you’ve completely moved on from me.”

“What, like it’s hard?” you replied. It surprised you when his brows shot up from recognition of that line.

“Now you’re pulling an Elle Woods on me!” he pointed at you in an accusatory manner.

“Don’t point that finger at me, Barnes. How was I even supposed to know you’ve seen that movie?” you rolled your eyes, walking past him.

“I watched all the movies you told me about back in Wakanda.” he spoke up, making you stop in your tracks to face him again.

“Yeah, that’s right. I watched every movie, I listened to every song, read every book you recommended, and visited every internet site you once said I might like. I was always listening even when I made it seem like I wasn’t.”

You stared at him for a second looking for any indication that he was lying. Recovering from the mild shock, you pursed your lips. “I hope you know the Porn site was a joke. Sam did it to Steve once and I just thought it was hilarious.”

His mouth twitched. Walking over to you once more he stopped when he was only a step away, not breaking eye contact.

“I’m really sorry, Doll. I know it’s bold of me to even ask you, but please give me the chance to make it up to you. And I don’t care if it’s me that has to wait for you this time. Take all the time you need, just please don’t go on that date.”

“Bucky, there was never a date. I have no idea what date you were referring this entire time.” you confessed, making him bring his hands to his face and groan, muttering Damn it, Shuri.

Hearing Shuri’s name, you put two and two together. “Is this about Shuri trying to set me up with a prince?” he nodded as answer. “Well, I did tell her I was gonna think about it.”

He removed his hands away from his face. “Please say no.” He whispered. “I’d tell you what the kids told me what to say if I have to.”

“What kids?”

“Sam got a bunch of kids on video to teach me how to win you back. I’ve already stood under the rain outside your door just like what one of the girls suggested.” Judging from the grin on your face, he was now regretting even mentioning them.

“Well go on, then.” you urged. “Let me see how much you’ve learned.”

“The first time I saw you at the airport, I got so distracted looking at you just casually sitting on top if the ramps while we were preparing to fight. That wink you sent me that day is still engraved in my mind by the way. Then I was so taken back when you bluntly told me you’re attracted to me. I-”

“I don’t think the kids taught you to remind me of my attempts to flirt with you.” You cut him off, embarrassed at the memory. He chuckled at your expression.

“Okay, okay.” he took a deep breath.

“I think I started catching feelings for you the moment they woke me up from my cryosleep and you were there to be the first one to welcome me back. I didn’t think you were still gonna be there like you told me. But you were there, beaming at me like a ray of sunshine. All my years under HYDRA, every time I was woken up, I was only ever treated as an asset. But you welcomed me like I was a friend.” his eyes were starting to get glassy with tears, as he tried not to choke up.

“And then every time you were near, or even when I’d get a whiff of your perfume, I’d start feeling all warm inside and my entire body would be at ease, knowing you were an arm's reach from me. You were the last one I saw as I disintegrated from the blip, and you were the first one I sought out the moment we came back.” he was surprised when you reached forward to wipe away a tear he didn’t even realize had run down his cheek.

“I lied when I said I made a mistake kissing you. It was the first thing I wanted to do the moment I saw you again. But something inside me was always telling me that all I could ever be is someone grateful for your kindness. That it was impossible for the universe to even grant me someone like you after everything I’ve done." He let out a breath before continuing.

"But it was also you, Steve, Sam, and heck – even Zemo– that made me realize that I am worthy of a chance. And I’m sorry it had to take you telling me you were moving on, to have the courage to accept and take the chance that has been long offered to me by the world." He took your hand and gave the back of it a small kiss.

"I love you, Y/N.” Now it was him that had to wipe away your tears away. “Please don’t cry, doll. That wasn’t-”

“Just fucking kiss me already, James.” you laughed, in between sniffles.

He grinned down before you. “You’re my angel with a potty mouth, and I love you.” he whispered, leaning down.

“I love you too."

---------

You and Bucky were out with the Wilsons on their community's afternoon barbeque.

Sarah and you got along with ease, and she was telling you all about their old family business when Bucky hugged you from behind.

"Sorry to interrup, ladies, but I have to show you something Y/N." he said, kissing your cheek.

"Ew, man. I still can't believe your old ass has a girlfriend." Sam commented beside Sarah who was laughing

"You do know I'm older than him, right?" you chuckled.

"I know, but you don't look it." he replied, causing Bucky to flip him off.

Excusing yourself, both of you walked by the docs.

"What's up, old man?" you grinned at him.

"You know what, doll. Most couples would have endearing nicknames for each other."

"I'll call you something sweet once you tell me what that thing you call me when we're alone means."

"What, мое солнце?"

"Yeah, that one! Tell me or else I'll keep calling you ridiculous ones." you threatened, trying not to smile.

"Anyway, мое солнце, I just wanted to show you a text I got from Shuri."

I am yet to have any news that you

manned up and told Y/N you love her,

White Wolf. I was joking before, but now

I really might set her up on a date.

You both chuckled at Shuri's threat.

"I got this." you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialled her number. You placed it on loud speaker once she picked up.

"Y/N! So nice of you to call."

"Hey, Shuri! Listen..." you feigned seriousness in your voice before releasing a deep breath. "I'm finally over Mr. Smokey eye. I think I'm ready to go on that date now." Bucky was playfully glaring at you for the nickname.

There was dead silence from the other side of the line for a second. "Oh! About that... uh turns out he already has a girlfriend. Planning to propose soon, I heard. Oops!"

"Well that's a bummer. How about the other bachelor royalties your family's friends with? I recently found an article with a list. I can send you one right now. Preferably ones that don't look much like blue-eyed grandpa." you grinned at him as he rolled his eyes. He knows what you were trying to get him to do.

"Uh... turns out my brother isn't that friendly after all." She let out an awkward laugh. "Hasn't Barnes contact you at all?" you could hear the frustration in her voice.

"Oh, that discount prophet, I haven-"

"It means my sun." He finally caved, rolling his eyes.

"What?" you asked him, immidiately forgetting that Shuri was still on.

"WHAT?" she screamed through the phone after a second.

"мое солнце means my sun." he grinned at you.

"Is that Barnes with you?! Hellooo?!!!"

"Talk to you later, princess." you turned off the call when she was about to protest. Facing him again, you stepped closer and put your arms around his shoulders, both of you sharing a grin.

"I love you, мое солнце."

"I love you too, minn stjarna."

"You gonna tell me what that means?"

"You wish."

fin.

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @eliwinchester-barnes @ebxny27 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @fadingdreamersportsmaker @drama-queen-aa

[maria021015]

“What?” Xander just squinted at her. “I’m not even bothered to try and figure out what that means. Look, you aren’t even supposed to be here. I explicitly told you I didn’t want you walking around town after dark. So just stay out of the way until I finish, would you? Zaida!”

But Zaida wasn’t listening. Actually, Zaida was walking away, her attention captured by the unmistakable tone of the biggest jerk in school. His overly gelled hair was spiked up high on his head, as usual.

“What part of ‘I'm fine’ are you having a problem grasping? Okay, I wanna go home.” Jackson was shouting animatedly, getting all up in the Sheriff’s face.

“And I understand that.” Stilinski remained calm, his voice soothing and stable in the face of her classmate’s aggression.

“No, you don't understand, which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum-wage rent-a-cop like you! Okay, now, I wanna go home!” he raised his voice into a scream. How could he disrespect their law enforcement in such an entitled way? Of course, it was entirely in his character as a spoilt rich kid to shit all over working-class citizens, but it still made her blood boil. Zaida was about four wide paces from shoving Jackson away from the Sheriff herself when Stiles stumbled out of his father’s car, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“Oh, whoa, is that a dead body?” Stiles gaped, his eyes trailing a gurney with a humanoid mass covered by a white sheet being wheeled out from the video store.

“Everybody back up. Back up.” Stilinski made room for the EMTs to transport the body into the back of an ambulance. He then turned to her and the rest of the teenagers on the scene. “Zaida, Stiles, stay in the car please until someone can take you home. Jackson, I’m going to need you to sit down next to your girlfriend and wait.”

“His girlfriend?” she whipped her head around, searching for the unmistakable red hair. She found Lydia sitting in the back of the other ambulance huddled beneath a shock blanket and staring off into space.

“Zaida, in the car. Now.” Xander all but dragged her towards the back seat of the sheriff’s car and closed the door behind her.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath. “Jackson and Lydia get to be out there where all the interesting things are happening, and we are stuck in a car.”

“Tell me about it.” Stiles rolled his eyes, his voice muffled by what sounded like a full mouth. She leaned forward from the back, peering through the separation screen to see the boy shoving his face full of curly fries.

“Do you know what happened?” she asked him, watching his reaction closely.

“All I know is what you probably already know, which is that there was an animal attack, and now there’s a dead body, and Jackson and Lydia were here when it happened.” The words tumbled out of his mouth so quickly and awkwardly that it took her a full minute to understand what he actually said.

“Right.” She sagged back against the seat, crossing her arms over her chest in defeat. Well, tonight was a bust. She’d been hoping to gain some more information.

After her parents' death, she had become obsessed with all the finer details, convinced that the police had missed something. That they had missed everything . There were too many loose ends that wouldn’t tie up no matter how hard she tried. When Xander had told her a couple of years ago that she was wrong and that he had seen the reports to prove it, she had no choice but to attribute her concerns to a traumatised young mind and hadn’t thought much about it since. But that bus…it raised the same questions. Boasted the same loose ends. The biggest predators in California were mountain lions, but mountain lions had four fingers - not five, like the claw marks at both crime scenes. Mountain lions couldn’t open an unlocked front door, and close it behind them upon leaving. Mountain lions couldn’t rip a metal door almost entirely off its hinges. It was the same thing with the video store. There was a clear exit point, but where had the animal entered? None of it made sense.

“Why are you here anyway?” His head swivelled in her direction as if the thought had just dawned upon him that she wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I came to bring my brother dinner. He’s working back late.” She lied casually.

“Your brother?” He repeated, still confused.

“Yes, my brother.” She sighed, getting comfortable in her seat. “Deputy Callis.”

“Oh, I didn’t know your brother was the new Deputy.” He frowned, crumpling the now empty take-out bag.

“And I didn’t know the Sheriff’s kid hung out with crackheads until the other week, but what do you know? Here we are.” She shot back with a faux angelic smile, throwing out the joke to broach the subject.

“Wha-?” His face scrunched, movement jerky as he twisted in his seat to face her.

“You know, that guy you almost flattened with your jeep? Leather jacket, black hair, sweaty, pale skin? The one who looked about half an injection away from croaking it? Yeah, that crackhead.” She explained, picking at her painted nails. “Don’t worry. I’m no snitch. Though, whatever it was that he was on, I suggest you stay away. That stuff looked nasty.”

“What? Derek?” His voice jumped almost an octave. “Derek’s not on drugs. He was really sick. Like hospital-grade sick. And I barely even know the guy. Definitely not friends.”

“Is Scott his friend?” She pried further. Stiles’ floppy-haired, locker-punching bestie had already exhibited some pretty weird behaviours. Influence of drugs, perhaps?

“Scott? No. God no. Derek Hale is no one’s friend. Derek has no friends, because Derek sucks.” Stiles shook his head adamantly.

Zaida wasn’t sure what their deal was with this Derek Hale guy, but she could practically feel the anxious energy pulsating off of Stiles. He and Scott were definitely hiding something. What they were hiding - and what their reasons were for hiding it - she wasn’t yet certain. One thing she was sure of was that she’d get to the bottom of it, eventually. It was just another mystery to add to the ever-growing list.

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Moving Day

it's the day that comes at the end of every season. and yet, somehow, the hermits still get caught off guard by it.

featuring: hermit ensemble, slice of life fluff, imagine moving houses but like every year and a half, werewolf!ren, something!joe, artic fox!etho, he is vaguely developed, there's pretty much no plot, just fluff, an ode to the end of this season

"Zed, you're gonna be late!" Tango calls as he drops in through the ceiling. With a bang, a mop of blond hair pokes out of the central storage. Zed rubs his head, pulling himself up.

"You're the one who distracted me with the Create world!" He replies, hauling a bag up the ladder with him. Tango laughs, throwing it over his shoulder as Zed flops onto the stone ground.

"Sure I was, it's not like you brought it up." Zed huffs, rolling his eyes. He holds his hands up towards Tango, who laughs. "Oh, you want to go over my shoulder too?" He teases.

"You are insufferable," Zed mutters, pushing off the stone himself instead. The cold is starting to seep through his cardigan.

"Have you packed everything?" Tango asks. Zed holds his fingers up to count off.

"Yes, I've checked everything four times! Maybe five, actually. I don't think there's anything left." Zed looks back at the ladders, closing his fist. Tango examines the pile of bags, humming.

"So you're sure you don't want me or Impulse to check for you?" Zed's mouth opens.

"Actually, can you check anyway?" He asks, "You know, just in case!" Tango laughs, giving Zed's shoulder a bump.

"Of course we will. But let's move these before Xisuma forgets them." Zed nods, quick to grab some of the bags. He heaves them up, almost buried under them.

"Season eight here we come!"

-

"You two!" Doc calls, scooping up the white fox before he manages to rush past him. Ren very nearly runs straight into his legs. The wolf sits down, ears twitching as he stares at Etho. Etho sticks his tongue out, Doc struggling to keep a hold on the silky fur. "You two aren't helping, you know that?" Ren barks, tail wagging. "Yeah, yeah."

With a wiggle, Etho manages to slip out of Doc's arms. He jumps up, curling around his shoulders instead and getting comfortable. Doc sighs. He bats Etho's shawl out of his face, ignoring the amused chitter. Counting, he finds most of his bags already in his ender chest. Luckily, because the two animals playing around him are making it difficult. Unlike-

"Doc," Bdubs cries, "Have you seen my razor?" Bdubs doesn't even bother with the door. Doc looks down at him on the lawn.

"Have you checked your half?" He asks.

Bdubs throws a hand up, "Of course I've checked my half, but Keralis tried to drag me into packing all his junk so I had to make a speedy escape!" Doc chuckles, watching as Ren jumps down to nose at Bdubs' hand. "Oh, hello, Ren!" Bdubs jumps into baby-talk immediately, crouching down. "Fancy you being here!"

"Please, take him-" Doc waves, "-The two of them keep running through my feet." Bdubs strokes through the fluff of Ren's neck, glancing up and spotting Etho.

"Oh, Etho as well!" Bdubs waves. Etho yips in reply, ear twitching. Then Bdubs pauses, looking at Ren properly. "Ah-ha, Snips! Of course, right-" Bdubs jumps up, "Thanks guys, I'll see you at the town hall!" Doc looks at Ren as Bdubs runs off.

"You going with him?" He asks. Ren's tail wags, staring at Doc. He sighs. "Right, of course not." Doc picks Etho off his shoulder, dropping him on the floor to a surprised squeak. "If only there was a way to attach some bags to the two of you." Both animalmits freeze, sharing a look with each other. Doc can't help but feel satisfied as they scarper towards the nearest nether portal together. "Perfect." He can finish packing in peace.

-

"Do you think you've got everything?" Wels asks, perched on a chest. Beef hauls his bag out the door with a huff.

"Well, I've got you. That's half the challenge." He looks up in time to see Wels rolling his eyes, pushing his helmet up.

"I take it back, I'm not helping you anymore."

Beef laughs, clapping Wels' arm, "We've still got Three Fox Hole to look through, you're not going anywhere yet." Wels' lips twist into a pout, crossing his arms.

"You know, when I packed early, it wasn't with the intention of doing your packing for you," he replies. But, when Beef holds out a bag, he still takes it.

"And I appreciate it!" Beef grins at him. "Maybe I'll reward you with some of my finest wallpaper-"

"Oh, please no." Wels' eyes are wide, staring in mock horror. "I might never recover."

"Oh, blackmail works too, then." Beef stands, walking past him. Wels slips off the chest, frozen in place.

"Beef- Beef, are you joking?" Beef keeps walking. Wels runs after him. "Beef!"

-

"Thanks for heading out this far, man," xB says, smiling at Keralis. "I know you've got a big space to cover too."

"Ah, it's nice taking a break," Keralis replies, holding one of xB's bags in his arms. "And I know there's no way this would all fit in your ender chest, princess." xB chuckles, looking at the half-folded clothes, trinkets, and daily essentials all sorted into piles.

"Yeah-" he scrubs the back of his neck. "-I kinda forget I've got so much. Too used to my travel bag." Keralis bounces the one in his arms.

"Well, it's a good job you've got me!" He bumps into xB's side, barely knocking the other hermit off balance. "I can always lend you some extra bags if you need them."

"The luggage dimension is just going to be my stuff at this rate," xB jokes.

"Oh, you haven't seen how much I have yet." They both laugh, Keralis putting the bag down with the rest that have been packed. "Now, what are we doing next?" xB turns to observe his piles.

"I think that one," he decides. Keralis nods, skipping across.

"Then let's go, we don't want to be late!"

-

"Cub!" Scar's voice calls down the pyramid. "I cannot believe this." Cub turns to see Scar walking along the corridor, wings fluttering in annoyance behind him. "Xisuma says my crystals aren't essential items so I can't take them. That's so unfair." Cub laughs before he can stop himself, getting an affronted noise from Scar. "Cub! I come here, I confide in you-"

"Scar," Cub interrupts, squeezing Scar's arm. Vex magic sparks around them, electrifying the air. "You could make some once we're in the next world."

"It's not the same!" Scar protests. Cub leans closer.

"Or," he whispers, "We could sneak some across ourselves."

"Oh." Scar claps his hands together. "Now you're speaking my language."

"The language of crime?" Cub asks, calling one of his bags over to him. He catches it mid-air.

"The only language I know!"

-

"This is why you should've made a proper storage system!" Mumbo cries, as Grian pulls out the contents of another chest. "This could've been so much easier!"

"I didn't know it was this bad!" Grian replies, finally managing to find his towels buried in an unmarked chest. He throws them towards his 'to pack' pile, Mumbo jumping out of the way.

"Didn't you have weeks to prepare for this?" He asks, looking at the scattered items in dismay.

"I mean- I did host an entire world in-between," Grian reminds him. Mumbo hums in agreement, deciding to organise some of the piles before they end up vanishing into a pure mess. He looks for similarities amongst the items, beginning to sort them into manageable groups.

Mumbo's lucky he thought to get all his essentials together ahead of time. He gave his luggage to Xisumavoid to store, and he knows it's all taken care of. It didn't stop him from checking his base another ten times, but he's pretty sure he's got everything now. Pretty sure.

He's going to end up checking his base again later, isn't he?

"Grian?" Mumbo asks, pausing as he notices something. The rummaging through chests stops, with only a quiet thud & 'ow' before Grian is looking at him.

"Yeah?" He replies.

"Do you… actually have any bags?"

"Ahhhh," Grian's face turns a similar scarlet to his jumper. "You see, Mumbo, last season, I kinda… borrowed some."

"Borrowed, right." Mumbo sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Were you ever going to buy your own?"

"Yes!" Grian replies, words fast. "I just. Never had time." Mumbo's had most of his bags since he joined, so he guesses he can't relate. Pretty much all the hermits gifted him one. Otherwise, he would've never remembered at that age, but that's its own problem. It's a good job he remembers the essentials even now.

"So, how do you intend on packing all this?"

Grian hums, "Do you think I could just shove it in there loose?"

"I'll go find some bags," Mumbo decides. And something to help his headache...

-

"How many cats do you think I could smuggle to the next server?" Cleo asks, holding up another of her kittens to Joe. Joe hums thoughtfully, bright green hair moving on its own accord.

"Well, I've certainly smuggled a few of my dogs inside myself." Cleo takes a deep breath, transferring her kitten to one hand so she can pinch her nose.

"Right, of course you have." She's long learnt to stop questioning how Joe works. She's a living zombie, he's Joe. At least it makes packing easier. "I think I might take some of them to my own world, this time," she muses. "Xisuma can do that, right?"

"I'm sure he can," Joe agrees. "If not, I will have a mass exodus of animals from the server." Cleo sighs, rolling her eyes. She sets the kitten down gently amongst the other cats.

"Right, are you actually going to help me carry my bags?"

"Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to stop you losing an arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She still can't believe that happened. First, her arm falling off, then nearly losing it amongst everybody's luggage? So embarrassing. She enters the main room of her base, where she's already got her bags set out. It's surprising how many skincare products you need when you're dead. Joe follows, looking around as if he doesn't know the place like the back of his hands. To be fair, Cleo would be surprised if anybody knew the back of Joe's hands.

"Right, I've shoved as much as I can in my ender chest. If you put what you can in yours, we can divide the remainder up," she lays out the action plan.

"Sounds perfect!" Joe picks up two bags. "Are you sure you don't just want me to transport them over?"

"Keep your true self off my stuff, Joe, you know what happened last time."

Joe sighs, "Fine, fine. We'll do this the human way."

"You'll do this the human way," she amends. "I'll do it the zombie way."

-

"Stress, it's only a spider," Iskall says, pointing his sword towards it. Said spider is standing triumphantly on top of her bags, red eyes glinting. Stress pokes around the doorway, brown hair falling across her face.

"Yeah, but it's a spider on me stuff!"

"You've fought worse than spiders!"

"Just get rid of it, Iskall!" He sighs. Readying himself for a fight, he crosses across the room, stamping his foot in front of the pile. The spider hisses, sharp fangs a warning. But when the creature jumps, Iskall's sword is there to meet it, throwing the spider to the ground where it disappears into twinkling orbs.

"Look, was that so hard?" Iskall asks, his hand on his hip as he looks back at her. Stress bounces in, grinning.

"It wasn't, was it? Guess I don't need to thank you, then!" Iskall rolls his eyes, slipping his sword back into his inventory.

"Like you don't need to thank me for helping carry your stuff?"

"Oh, I'll thank you for that." Iskall laughs, grabbing the strap of two bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

"How many trips do you think we'll need?" He asks, seeing her haul two up herself. Stress hums, observing the pile.

"Prob'ly only two or three. If we get started soon then we'll get done faster, too." Iskall can hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Aren't you the one that was scared of a spider?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about!" She calls, walking past him. Iskall shakes his head, smiling fondly before rushing after her.

-

"Hey TFC!" False calls, touching down at his base. She smiles at the sight of his usual suitcases, already neatly packed and organized. Everything's labelled in TFC's signature handwriting to boot. Far more planned out than her, she's gotta say. But that's a problem for the next world.

"False, what can I help you with?" TFC's smile is always nice to see. She flicks her elytra closed, waving.

"I came to ask you that, actually," she replies. "Wanted to know if you'd like help carrying things over. I did all my packing a few weeks back, so I'm kinda bored." And if she stays still for too long, X will probably try to rope her into admin duties. Sure, she knows the basics, but she doesn't want to be responsible for anybody's stuff going missing. Not her department.

"Well, I'm never going to turn down some extra hands," TFC replies. He walks over and pats the suitcases on the left. "These are all ready to go, I'm still finishing up with the others. Has Xisuma already started?"

"I think he was just finishing the pocket dimension, so you've still got a little while." The hermits always rush to be the first in, as if everybody's stuff won't fit. In False's opinion, being last is best. It's easier to get your things out when they're closer to the entrance.

"Good, good. Let him know I'm nearly finished, would you?"

False nods, saluting with one hand and picking up a suitcase with the other, "Will do!"

-

Hypno walks into Jevin's base to find him and Impulse slotting the last few items into boxes. He knows Jevin was mostly packed already, so it's nice Impulse has come to help out. But… Jevin might just be taking advantage of Impulse. Hypno won't think too much into it.

"X has finished setting up," he calls, not needing an introduction. Jevin twists to look at him, Impulse busy trying to fit a label on straight.

"So you're saying I'm late?" Jevin asks. Hypno chuckles, deciding to join them on the floor.

"You know what the rush is like to get stuff in. You'll be fine for a little while." Hypno shrugs, "After Wels, X'll probably be careful." Impulse nods, sitting back now the label of 'hoodies' is attached.

"I've already handed my stuff in," Impulse says, "I think False might have too? We both finished up pretty early."

"Yeah, there was a lot in the town hall ready to be moved." Hypno wonders if the hermits are getting more prepared for this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"So, you've come to help me carry these over?" Jevin asks, Hypno looks at the boxes, shrugging.

"With all three of us, it should only be two trips, right?" There are only five boxes, and two are pretty small anyway.

"That's the spirit!" Impulse calls, grinning. "Do you think you're all ready to go?"

"Yep, I think that's everything," Jevin decides. He pats a box, making more of a squelching sound. Hypno does his best not to laugh.

"Then let's get moving!"

-

Xisuma sighs as his visor adjusts to filter out the sunlight. Coding that in was a stroke of genius. It used to be such a nightmare to continuously adjust between the pocket dimension and hermitcraft. He looks at the stacked luggage to be moved, trying to figure out if there's more there than before. He swears there is. And they didn't even say hi when they dropped it off! Rude.

He jumps when something nudges the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Turning, he finds Ren, his tail wagging proudly behind him.

"Oh! Hello there." He reaches down, giving Ren a scratch behind the ears. "Are you planning to change back before we move?" Ren barks in reply. "I'll pretend that's yes."

Turning, he sees a white tail flicking over blue diamonds. Of course, those two are together. Etho's curled up in the sun, black eyes watching the pair. One ear is stuck up, the other flopped lazily.

"You two aren't going to help me carry things in, are you?" X asks, sighing as he looks back at Ren.

"I think Ren forgot to leave a spare pair of clothes out, actually," Etho says, legs dangling off the throne. He's tugging his shawl over his nose now he's in human form. Or, as human as Etho gets. "And his outfit may have experienced some... unfortunate circumstances." Xisuma looks at Ren's sad eyes, shaking his head at the pair of them.

"And those didn't involve you in any way?" X asks Etho with what he thinks is an appropriate amount of suspicion in his voice. Etho holds his hands up, leaning back in a way that would have most people falling over.

"Are you accusing me, Xisuma?"

"I don't know, am I, Ren?" Ren gives a concise nod. Etho gasps, clutching over his heart.

"Betrayed by my own brethren!" Etho cries. Ren's tail is wagging, betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

"Come and help me carry things, you," X says, calling Etho over. "We'll be here for another month if you don't." Etho laughs, but jumps off the side of the throne, landing with barely a thud.

"What are we moving, bossman?" Etho asks. Xisuma surveys the piles.

"Mumbo's stuff next, I think," X decides, "He usually takes a while to unpack." Etho nods, following X's lead as they grab a bag and box respectively.

"So this is what you guys do at the end of the season?" Etho asks, Ren trotting along with them. Xisuma hums as he enters the pocket dimension, finding an open space at the back of the room.

"Yep, this is moving day," he explains. "I always try my best to make it easy for the hermits, but it doesn't often end up working." Etho chuckles, placing the bag on top of X's box.

"Seems like most people aren't done yet," Etho agrees.

"They'll get there," Xisuma replies. The hermits always do eventually.

They're just stepping out of the portal when a voice calls, "I'm not late am I?!" X scruffs Ren's neck, smiling at Zed, who's running over with far too many bags thrown over his back.

"Not at all, friend," he reassures him. Zed drops his bags, bent over and panting. Tango strolls up behind him far more leisurely.

"See, Zed, I said you wouldn't be!" Zed whips in his direction.

"Oh, you, mister 'oh Zed you're going to be late, we're all going to leave you behind', you-" Tango laughs, fluffing Zed's hair as he sets his bags down. They take the rest of his luggage out of the ender chest Xisuma left specifically for this purpose. Beef and Wels walk up together as they do, Xisuma waving to them.

"Beefers!" Etho says, grinning.

"Hey Etho, Tango, Zed, Xisuma." Beef pauses, "Oh, and a Ren!"

"Hey guys!" Wels simplifies, dropping his bags at the doors. "This should be everything from us."

"Perfect!" Xisuma nods, "You guys okay to help me carry things through?"

"Yeah, we can help out!" "That's cool with me."

Moving things goes a lot faster with five of them helping to carry things through. Xisuma just catches Impulse, Jevin and Hypno dropping one lot off, getting a frantic wave before the trio is rushing off again. The pocket dimension is quickly filling up with bags and boxes, the hermits a constant line as they drop in and out. Xisuma frequently checks, but it seems like the dimension is handling the pressure okay.

"Xisuma!" Joe calls, him and Cleo wandering up the town hall's stairs. By this point, Cub and Scar have joined them with TFC, False, Stress and Iskall all dropping things off too.

"Good to see you both," X greets, one of Wels' bags hugged in his arms. He turns away, before hesitating, something nagging the back of his mind. After a second of focus- "Joe, why do you have so many hitboxes inside you?"

"Ah, that's nothing you have to worry about, dear admin." Xisuma gives him a long look and decides this isn't a battle he's going to pick.

"As long as you're willing to help out," he says, instead. "We're only waiting for a few people. He takes a look at the gathered hermits. Cleo's now lying on the floor, Ren beside her. His tail is already wagging again. Cub is picking a box up, whilst Scar skips through the portal holding three bags with magic. Etho's chatting to Tango and Zed as they work.

"Of course! We'll be finished in no time." It's already taken most of the day, but X doesn't need to mention that. He sets his vision back to normal, does another check of the pocket dimension, and returns to carrying boxes.

The remaining hermits trickle in as the sun sets. Stress and Beef sort out dinner for everyone, Xisuma making sure the last of the luggage is safe.

"Wait!" A few heads turn at Grian's cry, heavy footsteps rushing up to town hall. "I- I've got my stuff." Xisuma blinks at the sight of the hermit carrying about four bags at once. One is bright pink.

"You're not too late," X reassures him. "You can just drop it in, there should be room." He's settled into a shaded corner, preparing for the process of safely moving over twenty players. And Joe. If he's being honest, the data is starting to give him a headache. But it'll be worth it once they're all in their new world. Their temporary 'in-between' world is already set up. Somewhere for them all to stay whilst he handles the switch over. Most of the hermits take the time to visit friends or do other projects during that, anyway.

"Thanks, X," Grian says, between gasps. He runs into the portal, X laughing softly to himself. Mumbo walks up a few minutes later, glancing at the group.

"Is Grian in there?" He asks. Before X can even reply, about four hermits are giving an affirmative. "Thanks, guys!" Mumbo heads in after, only two bags in tow. X watches, well-aware of the fondness in his chest. It's a good reminder of just what he does this for.

-

It's another hour until everything's ready. The sun is hanging over the horizon (Xisuma may have frozen the day cycle a while back.) X has watched warily as they've shared food, chatted, played games (including one very dramatic wink murder. He's not sure what happened in Grian's server, and he's not sure he wants to ask.) But now, they've all gathered around, watching as Xisuma enters the final commands.

"Okay, everybody here knows the drill. Stay with somebody else, I want to do a headcount on the other side, then you're all free to wander." He projects his voice, the hermits hushing to listen. "Is everybody ready?"

"Yeah!" "Born ready!" "We've been ready for hours!" "Is there food on the other side?"

X shakes his head. With a final press of the enter key, the portal opens in front of the diamond throne. There's a collective murmur of anticipation.

"Alright, you lot can head through. I'll join you in half an hour, max." He can't even make out words following that. TFC and False are first, walking through with a wave to the others. Stress and Iskall run after them. The rest of the hermits take their time. Some share hugs, some take a last look at the horizon. And Xisuma watches over it all, determined every single one of his hermits will make it safely through.

"X?" Impulse calls. He and Hypno are standing together. The town hall feels so much emptier now the hermits are gone. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Xisuma promises. "All standard procedure. I'll see you soon." They nod, sharing a last smile.

"Okay then. Stay safe, X."

"You two as well. Try and keep the others from misbehaving until I get there."

Hypno laughs, "No promises."

And like that, Xisuma's alone. He sighs, sinking back against the diamond throne. The sun casts golden beams over the land. This has been… a good season. They all are, but. Xisuma smiles as he sets the tick speed of the world to zero, freezing it in time. He thinks next season will be something special. It only takes fifteen minutes to finish his commands, the rest he needs to do on the other side.

"Goodbye, old friend." He pats the diamond throne. With a look over the eerily still shopping district, he sighs. It really is the hermits that fill a world with life, isn't it? "To more admin work," he murmurs, before laughing at himself.

"Shishwam?" Xisuma jumps, clutching his chestplate.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me." Keralis giggles. He's waiting in front of the portal, hands in his pockets. "I thought you went through."

"Well..." Keralis starts, "Somebody said we needed to go through the portal with someone else. And then I thought of a certain admin going through alone..." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head. He joins Keralis, swirling colours reflecting off his armour.

"Of course you did." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm ready to go." Keralis wraps his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"You've done a good job this season, Shishwammy. I hope you know that." Xisuma sneaks one last look out the doorway before they leave this world behind.

"Yeah." He smiles. "I think I do."

[miekasa]

mie!! i’m so late to the party but i absolutely loved ‘NICE’, it made me feel so warm and fuzzy <33 it’s so unique to its own and the flow of it is beyond wonderful!

what is married life like for oc and eren in ‘NICE’? is it just like before/do you have any nice!husband!eren headcanons?

AHH I’m so happy you liked it and that you took the time to come and tell me!! Married life for them... doesn’t really differ from what their lives looked like before actually hehe. They were basically married without knowing it 🙄🙄 idiots to lovers or something like that; but here are a few head canons of the months immediately following NICE!

You officially got married in Paris on the fourth, not too long after Carla’s wedding. You guys flew in some officials, checked through all the technicalities, and signed the papers right on top of the Eiffel Tower (access granted by the city of Paris upon request of one Carla Jaeger, of course). 

Aside from having the most picturesque location in the world to sign your marriage certificate, there wasn’t anything lavish in celebration after that. Carla’s wedding was just three days earlier, after all, and was still the talk of the local press. You did have a small party with your friends (Jean, Armin, Mikasa, Marco, Erwin, Levi, Hange came from the Alps for Carla’s wedding) in your overly large hotel room. Just some music, room service, and lots and lots of champagne.

Eren extended your winter break vacation by two weeks for an impromptu honeymoon to the Bahamas before you went home. Let’s just say you did not leave the safe haven of your hotel room very often, except to dip into the ocean a few nights (benefits of a private beach).

After getting married, the rings swapped places; the band with diamonds previously on your pointer finger was put on a chain (a new one since Eren threw the other one on the ground 💀), and you now wear the engagement ring on your ring finger.

Eren doesn’t like it when you take off the ring (the ring being the engagement ring). The first time you were going into the water, you were going to put it on the chain for safekeeping, but he protested very strongly. He would rather it rest safely in your suitcase than go around your neck again.

Your wedding bands are actually very similar to the band you already have: gold and diamond encrusted. Eren’s, however, has an emerald in the center, like the two emeralds that serve as the pistils of the sunflowers in your engagement ring (for reference, that ring looks something like this, but with a gold band). The bands were the first thing Eren bought when you guys got home.

Your friends in Dubai (Ymir, Reiner, Annie, Connie, Sasha) had no idea that you and Eren got married over winter break. Safe to say they were all… very surprised to hear the news. Connie was a little bit bitter because he missed it, and wolf whistles every time he sees your ring (even though he’s seen it before because you wore it on the necklace every day).

You got married in January, but have an official wedding in the process of being planned sometime around late summer/early fall. Carla insisted that you guys have a wedding despite already being married, and Eren agreed whole heartedly. They are both very into planning it, and yes, Eren is somewhat of a bridezilla, and his mom is enabling him 100% please.

The night you signed the wedding papers, Carla lent you an off-white satin couture gown from one of her past collections. She is designing and making your official wedding dress by hand, with the help of Mikasa.

The two of them are also making Eren’s suit, and all the outfits for your wedding party. Carla will murder you if you even so much as hint at just buying other suits/dresses. This is her baby’s wedding, and she runs one of the most renowned fashion houses of the modern century; she’ll be damned if you guys wear something off the rack.

You considered a destination wedding, but settled on having it in New York. You haven’t decided a location yet, and it’s the one thing Eren isn’t actually picky about (because you know he’s gonna go ham on the decor no matter where it is bye).

Jean doesn’t know it yet, but he’s your maid of honor. Good luck and best of wishes to Eren picking between Mikasa and Armin for best man.

Even before confessing and getting married, Eren never slept much in his own bedroom. You both have California king sized beds in your rooms, and more often than not, Eren would sleep with you in your bed. You didn’t always cuddle, but he just liked to be there (for your presence, and because he was grossly in love bye)… you ended up cuddling a lot of the time tho.

He wants to renovate your apartment now that you both “officially” live in the same bedroom, even though it’s not necessary. He just likes renovating things.

You guys go to dinner every weekend, and sometimes you even go dancing. Eren still can’t dance and he doesn’t actually care to learn; it just reminds him of being in Nice with you.

He kisses your ring finger every morning waking up and every night before going to bed; sometimes he even does it subconsciously in his sleep.

He holds your hand way more often. Not just because you guys are together now, but because he likes seeing the ring where it’s meant to be. He also notices that it helps to curb your anxiety, which is a good bonus.

Eren wants kids, but he hasn’t really brought it up yet. He knows you both are fairly young, and that you’re still technically in school, but that’s not really a deterrent for him.

The only reason he’s waiting to say something is because you guys have a lot going on with wedding planning and settling in to “married life”—there’s a lot of tedious paperwork to be done and documents to update. He’ll bring it up next year when all that is settled.

On the subject of school, you are still attending university, but have been eligible for graduation for a year now. You had enough credits to graduate last (the year before NICE) December, but there were a few more classes you wanted to take out of interest that hadn’t been running in past years, so you stayed for all four years. Eren picks you up from your lectures.

Eren graduated in December before you guys went on vacation. By normal standards, that’s a semester early. However, he was supposed to be in this Honors Arts and Sciences program, that should have taken him another two semesters. He decided it wasn’t worth it, and dropped the honors part, and with that, had enough credits to graduate, so he did.

A college degree is really more of an accessory for him anyway, and school was never his thing. He’s decently smart, sure, but he never enjoyed school because of the emphasis on exams; he’s more of a creative person, a dreamer if you will. The only reason he even went to Columbia was because you decided to go there. 

He and you both have enough money to live more than comfortably if neither of you decided to get a job after graduation… way more than enough/ But Eren isn’t doing nothing; he’s actually sorta been working his way into the world of professional interior design, and he really loves it. You’re proud of him, and more than anything, happy that he decided to go for something he loves.

Armin and Jean also graduated a semester early. Armin’s been living with Mikasa since Connie got his own place off-campus in January. Jean is a little upset blondie is living with his girlfriend before he is, but it’s whatever 🙄if it’s gonna be anyone, at least it’s Armin. 

Carla mentioned that Eren got married sometime during a NYFW interview (along with talking about her own recent marriage), and since then you both have interviewed for two magazines, one of which featured pictures from your smaller party in Paris. You’ve gotten requests from Vanity Fair and Vogue about your bigger wedding later in the year, but you guys haven’t invited any media officials as of yet.

You and Eren attend the MET Gala almost every year. You don’t walk the red carpet and nobody is scrambling to take your pictures; but you have passes because of Carla. Also, you could just buy your way in if you wanted you (and your friends have in the past). This year, Eren had to pay two security officers $10k in bribes because you two snuck away to fuck in… a part of the museum not sectioned off for the event. Whoopsies.

Even before Eren got him arrested, going out to brunch was kind of your and Armin’s thing. Eren insists he should be invited now that he’s your husband. He is not. (His bitterness grows when he learns that Jean has secured himself an invite somehow).

Eren sold the car he got arrested for drag racing in. He never told you why—and as far as transportation goes, it wasn’t a big deal because you guys have other cars—but, to him, it was a kind of symbol. He thinks it’s dumb if he thinks too long about it, but he just didn’t wanna have that there are a reminder of how he’d hurt you and his mom.

Jean still drives you to your therapy appointments, but now Eren picks you up. Eren also goes to therapy himself, and has been before you guys got married; his therapist says he’s undoubtedly happier in recent sessions… like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulder.

As far as drugs go, there’s, of course, weed on a happy occasion, or at a party; but he hasn’t touched coke since that one time (which was also the first time he’d ever done it). That’s not even him being a changed man, he just didn’t like it—he only argued with you about it because he was being stubborn. He’s more of a drinker than anything, and absolutely loves to get you drunk on a special occasion, too; he always has. He thinks you look cute, and he likes taking care of you.

You have lived in that apartment with Eren for years before marrying him, yet he insisted you needed to christen the place like it was brand new… at this point, the only places you haven’t fucked in are the elevator itself, the foyer, the storage closet, and the pool. The latter only because it’s been too cold in NYC… trust and believe pool sex is coming lmfao.

Eren bought the apartment and renovated and designed it, but he never did like being in it all alone, and that’s been magnified since you got married. If he’s there by himself, he’s usually in the living area, napping on the daybed. He waits for your faithfully every day, and is hardly in the bedroom if you’re not.

Eren has not stopped introducing you as his wife since January. Even to people in passing like cashiers and bartenders, everyone in the whole damn city probably knows you guys got hitched.