#even my sense of humor isn't coming through at the moment

[mathematical-blasphemy]

These last two weeks:

Found out *during* the conference I was traveling for that my application for university funding had been canceled bc our department finance guy failed to approve it in the system.

A pipe broke above my apartment while I was traveling, causing water to flood into my bedroom, opening a hellmouth in the ceiling and destroying my bed, among other things. My apartment is now uninhabitable, I'm stuck in a mire of insurance claims/ living in temporary housing. Won't be able to move back in until probably the end of July.

Don't wanna get into the specifics here, but the three-week trip I went on was, on a number of levels, a personal disaster.

The startup disk in my laptop has somehow become corrupted, and now the hard drive seems to have disappeared (???), so I am just crossing my fingers at this point that I haven't lost everything. Hopefully will find out better news tomorrow when I bring it to the Apple Store (since I cannot currently log in to set an appointment or get tech support, as my apple ID password is saved only on my currently-unusable laptop).

My cat has been throwing up non-stop for the last 24 hours.

I am not sure what lesson(s) the universe is trying to offer here, but at this point I feel a genuine sense of hostility from it.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Lover's Quarrel

Pairing: Dark (aged-up) Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: You get away from Bakugo’s toxic clutches. But soon your peace comes to an end.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; minor Violence/Abuse.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I just realized today is his birthday, so here it is :) hope you guys like this.

–

“...you better damn pick up my calls, (Y/N). I’m losing my patience here so you better get that fucking attitude out of your system or I’ll do it for you. Swear to god I’m gonna drag your stupid ass back home if you don’t come to your damn senses and if you fucking think that-”

You press a button, closing the voicemail with a sigh. Throwing your phone to the bed’s edge, you turn your back to it, curling yourself into a ball. 

Your mind is an unstable whirlwind of thoughts and worries and a solitary tear rolls down your face. It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

You pull the blankets over you, but even their warmth isn't enough to calm the cold that scatters through your body. 

A sob breaks your composure and you hastily push your face into the pillow, smothering down the ugly sobs and whines that break out. 

It takes a long time until your eyes are finally dry and you have no more tears to weep.

But even afterwards, as you finally fall asleep, the heavy feeling still weighs on your heart.

Ding. 

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. 

Your friend looks at you and you’re quick to mute the notifications that pop up, eyes catching sight of the messages that Bakugo is spamming you before you black the screen. 

“I know I’ve asked before, but is everything really okay?” she asks, ignoring the movie on display in favor of looking at you, a concerned wrinkle settling between her brows.

“You seem… so distracted ever since you came. Is it about Bakugo?” 

You shift on the couch, uncomfortable. 

“It’s nothing.” you hesitantly tell her, measuring your words carefully. None of your friends know about the depth of Bakugo’s dark side and you’d rather not involve them.

Even though you’re almost sure that she suspects something is up, especially with the unannounced way you dropped by unannounced a couple of days ago, asking if you could stay a few days. 

“You can tell me, you know that, right? I’m not gonna judge or whatever.” 

You nod, giving her a small smile but no words come out of you despite the hefty weight on your mind. You don’t want to burden her with your problems. 

“I know, don’t worry. We’re just giving it some time. Lover’s quarrel and all.” you try to joke even though there's no humor in your smile.

"I see, okay." your friend draws a small smile, hesitating for a moment before letting it be. 

Work drags far too slowly. 

Boring paperwork to be filled, a few documents that need reviewing.

Nothing that actually manages to successfully distract you away from your current problems. If anything, it leaves you with far too much time for your mind to wander through your situation.

A definitive break-up is more complicated than what it seems as you’re aware that Bakugo won’t peacefully accept that. 

Just the idea of having to deal with an even angrier Katsuki has you cowering further into your chair and you distract yourself by opening your work email, digging into the emails that need to be answered. 

You’ll think about Bakugo later. 

“Later” arrives much earlier than what you expect.

When the clock hits 6 p.m you reluctantly turn off the computer, gathering your jacket and your purse. 

When you check your phone out of habit, the lack of messages surprises you. Strange.

Maybe Bakugo is finally catching the hints that you want to be left alone? You sure hope so.

You couldn’t be more wrong about it and you almost jump when your co-worker shrieks in delight, nudging your arm as you retrieve your car keys from the purse. 

“Oh god, he’s so cute, damn. Seems like someone was eager to see you.” 

Your heart drops at the sight of the blonde man that leans against your car, crimson eyes fixed on you.

“You’re so lucky. My boyfriend never comes to pick me up.” she whines before finally saying a distracted goodbye, throwing adoration filled glances at Bakugo when she walks away. 

For a moment, you consider leaving your car in the open parking-lot. You could take the bus to your friend’s apartment. It would be no big deal, only half an hour before reaching her place. 

But the impassive expression on your boyfriend’s face warns you not to ignore him and you don’t doubt Bakugo’s ability to cause a overly explosive scene right in front of your workplace. 

Your legs walk on their own towards him and he straightens up, pushing himself off the hood as he walks to you, meeting you half-way, far too close for your comfort.

He’s wearing civilian clothes, you notice. They make his firm muscles bulge from beneath the thin material, the veins in his arms popping out with his hands hidden in the pant’s pockets, as always.  

“What do you want?” 

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk then.” 

Irritation seeps into Bakugo’s face. He’s never had much patience. 

“We can talk in your car. The keys.” 

Despite his stretched hand, you don’t deposit the keys in his palm. It’s your car. It’s your life. You have to fight for it. 

“Y/n.”

You take a step back, shaking your head. 

“If you wanna talk, then we can talk here. Out in the open.” 

The corner of his mouth twitches with ire, and it compels you to take another tiny step away from him. 

“Will you stop fucking stepping away from me?” his voice booms loudly through the empty parking lot, eliciting a wince from you. “Quit acting like I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp or somethin’. I’m just trying to take you back home, you idiot.” 

“But I’m not going back.”

“You are.”

You clench your teeth, hoping it would help ease out the incoming flow of angry tears that threatens to spill at any moment now. 

“I said. I’m not going back.” 

Bakugo ignores your words, losing his patience upon your refusal. 

“Like hell you aren’t. I’ve had enough of this stupid attitude of yours.”

His hand latches to your wrist, holding it in a bruising grip, tight enough for you to feel the bones in your hands being painfully compressed together. 

“Ah, Katsuki, you’re hurting me!” you cry out, attempting to release his grip by using your free hand.

But your fingers are far too weak to pull him away and he groans when your nails scratch him. It makes him grip your hand harder and you sob, body limpless following forward when Bakugo tugs you in his direction. 

You bump into his hard chest, head sharply pulled back with his callous hand enveloping the back of your neck, his large palm easily covering all of it.

The tall hero doesn’t even bother looking around, unafraid of the possibility of someone walking by. Bakugo’s never been one to be overzealous, much less now that the position on Pro Hero Number 2 belongs to him. 

“You’ve had your fun these past days. But it’s over now, y’hear me?” the tips of his fingers dig into your neck, and you’re barely able to hold his threatening gaze, already knowing that you’re not coming out on top of this.

“You’re coming back home with me. No fuckin' fuss, no complaining, and that’s final. Like hell I’m gonna let you get away from me, so you better start fixing that attitude.”  

He squeezes your neck, looking at you with deadly eyes. 

“You hear me? Brat.” 

He keeps his hand on the back of your neck when guiding you to your own car, unceremoniously pushing you to the passenger’s seat before claiming the steering wheel for himself. 

A few tears escape from your eyes and you turn your face to the window, ignoring the sharp looks Bakugo throws your way.

You hug yourself, all of your hope dissolving at the realization that you’re never truly gonna be free from him. 

[kanmom51]

Are you sure? Jeju - Episode 4

The Pool

Honey's I'm back. Been to the edge of Australia, literally, and back.

Finally watched the episode, and oh boy, there is so much to break down, isn't there.

I won't lie, I've seen so much talk about EVERYTHING here on Tumblr and on X, and I really am joining this party super late. But I will be posting here for the fun of it, cause it's never enough, right? And also maybe I can bring some of the moments together, for points to be made, Idk. I just hope I can manage to get some posts done before the next episode drops, cause there is really so much to unravel here.

Out of everything that went down I thought I'd start with JM and JK's pool party fest.

They return from dinner, where they let Tae know he's a guest on THEIR show once again (and I mention this just because those two just don't stop reminding us and him of said fact, lol) and decide to go into the pool to cool down.

JK looked like he needed a bit of cooling down when JM was undressing next to him.

It was just the two of them, Tae not joining.

JK is in first and JM following, entering and moving towards JK with a LOOK on his face. A LOOK that had JK finding the need to remind JM that the pool wall was glass and see through.

There is no way under the sun that JM's intentions were pure at this moment.

NO WAY!!!

JK knew it.

You gotta be daft not to see it, especially with that man's reaction to JK's comment.

And it's funny, cause it's not like JM didn't see that glass pool wall before. It was just JK's need to remind him off it that makes it so much clearer he was up to no good, lol.

Did you notice how the footage cuts at that moment? I guess we are already used to these cuts, right? There are PLENTY of them in this episode as well. Don't get me started on the before shower, during shower and after shower that night, lol.

Right after that cut we go into Jikook playful mode.

We don't know just how much time they spent in that pool, but we got close to 4 minutes of it. Clearly they were there for some time, we got to see some highlights. The PG version of them playing around in the pool.

It amazes me every time when I see just how in sync those two are with each other. And we got to see it here as well. I mean, we saw it right through the episode. Remember in part 2 of my Jikook in bed (AYS CT) when I mentioned JK was just being with JM when he was just resting his head on JM's thigh? Well, I believe that word is so appropriate for this episode as well.

BEING

Just the two of them.

Even with Tae there with them, it was just them being with each other. With the mundane and everyday stuff.

It's the checking in on each other (for example when JK was getting excited over the food in the Japanese restaurant and JM checks in on him, or when he hits his fist on the table in the chicken restaurant and again, JM checking in on him, or JK just rubbing JM's thigh in the restaurant in episode 3 knowing he's not feeling the best).

It's the making joint decisions - what to eat, when to eat, what to do, when to go to sleep.

It's the calmness. Just calmness in their interactions.

It's them knowing what the other is feeling or meaning, at times without even speaking.

It's them playing around with each other when others don't even understand what's going on (Tae on the boat not getting their playfulness or sense of humor).

It's their constant hyping each other up or complimenting each other.

It's them finding solace in each other.

It's them cuddling watching the sunset.

It's them finding figures in the clouds and drawing them.

It's them hugging while snorkeling.

It's them seeking each other out while snorkeling, wanting to share the experience with the other, share the fun.

It's them sharing their solo music and choreo with each other before it comes out. Spending their time talking about each other's singing and dancing.

It's them being super flirty and talking with underlying innuendos through out their conversations.

It's them just BEING with each other.

I will most likely be writing much more about this, probably small posts with these special moments, but I just had to mention this here as well. Because this here, their time in the pool, was one of those moments as well.

They just click.

And it's so damn loud just how special they are with each other, how different they are with each other.

Saying that is not about diminishing what they have with the other members, because we all know just how close they are with each other, all 7 of them. They are bandmates, they are good friends, they love each other. But let's be realistic here, with all of that, the level of their friendships, the depth of their relationships with each and every one of the other members varies. it's just how it is. Real life, you know. And saying that JM and JK's connection is different and showing how it's different does not diminish from their connections with the others, it just highlights THEM.

And as such, I don't cower away from making these comparisons, because they are part of what screams that the two are a couple. There are things you do with your significant other you don't with your good friend. There are ways you behave with said significant other that you won't with your good friend. There are things you will allow your significant other do to you, do with you, that you won't allow with a good friend. It's the way you communicate with your significant other, things you say, things you don't say, things you don't need to say, tones you use, all of which you don't do with a friend, no matter how good of a friend they are. That's life. No reason to shy away from that just because there are some people that will take it the wrong way.

JM and JK in the pool was just that.

When you know you know.

They were playing games with each other.

Btw, I'm gonna say it even though you have all probably noticed this already, but JK, he doesn't push JM in that game. Not one time. And it reminds me of previous times they've done this.

More games.

then for Tae's benefit.

They were being playful with each other.

They were having fun with each other, just BEING.

Doing THEIR thing.

Jjust clicking.

Being absolutely the cutest EVER possible.

And they can't be Jikook without their signature "You are me I am you", right?

This whole sequence reminded me of the last time we got to catch their late night playfulness. You know, the whole mosquito net debacle, lol.

Only this time there was no alcohol involved and they fully aware of the cameras filming them, lol.

And before all those that happen to be lurking here waiting for me to say something to latch onto start celebrating "she said it", I say calm your farm, because NO SHE DID NOT. Them knowing the cameras are there and having fun TOGETHER, at times posing for the cameras, hence doing it for us to see, takes absolutely NOTHING from it being an authentic and spontaneous interaction.

I can't believe that I actually have to explain this.

Did I mention how many times those two reminded Tae and us that he's a guest on THEIR show?

"The guest is coming"...

"He must be bored and wanting attention"...

"He must be lonely..."

And this is for our benefit? Or their own, perhaps, lol.

"He's the guest... guests can comb their hair...guests should be pretty..."

And then the editors chime in as well.

I guess it was super important to drive this point right home just in case there were those that still didn't get it.

This show, it's JM and JK's. Period.

Tae = guest.

And he is sure going to be reminded of that by both of them throughout the trip. He is, and so are we.

And what about JK leaving the pool only to jump in again ("it's cold") to climb out again with JM?

Again, one of those "we do things together" of theirs.

All in all, the episode was friggin amazing. If there was anyone who for some reason (delusions, for one) thought that Tae being there with them will take away from us seeing just how JIKOOK those two were, or that JK would show his undying love for his husband and father of his children (🤮🤮) that sure was a hell of a rude awakening for them.

The interactions were as clear as day. And very telling. As per usual and as I had said in the past, if anything then JM is the axis with JK and Tae circling him, biding for his attention, JK knowing everything there is to know about JM while Tae needing to say just how much he knows JM. And if we're on the subject of Tae wanting to tell us just how much he knows JM, what we also got to see is just how much Tae and JK don't know about each other (Tae not knowing JK doesn't drink sweet drinks before eating or JK not knowing that Tae has been struggling with sleep lately), again, as a stark difference to JM and JK's abundance of it (JM knowing JK hadn't slept on the flight back prior to their trip, JM singing 3D).

I have so much more to say, but I'm going to stop right here, leave some more to talk about later.

[tosomeonessomeone]

Intertwined.

words・3.2k /pairings・Bang Chan x reader / genres・fluff, humor, little angst/ warnings・ none

You’ve been working with Stray Kids for a long time as an artist and visual creator for the group, you and Bang Chan are really close due to being both 97’s liners.

The dance studio pulsated with tension as Chan grappled with intricate moves, each step echoing his mounting frustration. Minho's concerned gaze caught Chan's eye, "Hey, Chan, something's off. You seem distracted."

Chan let out a heavy sigh, "Yeah, it's been one of those days. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

As they retreated to the break area, the atmosphere grew more strained with the members bickering over trivial matters. Felix raised his voice, "Can we just focus, guys? This isn't helping anyone."

Chan, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him, rubbed his temples. "I need a break," he muttered, escaping the heated exchange.

Silently, Chan sought refuge in your studio, a sanctuary amidst the chaos. As he entered, you looked up from your work, sensing the distress in his eyes. "Rough day?" you asked.

Chan slumped onto a chair, "You have no idea. Dance practice was a disaster, and the members are at each other's throats. I just needed some peace."

You nodded sympathetically, "Take your time. I'm here if you need to talk."

The frustration lingered as Chan paced around the studio. "This song is just not coming together! We're running out of time, and it's driving me crazy," he vented, frustration evident in every word.

Approaching cautiously, you offered, "Chan, take a deep breath. We'll figure it out, like we always do."

He shot you a sharp look, "It's not that simple! Do you even understand the pressure we're under?"

"I do, Chan. But snapping won't help. Let's talk it through," you urged, attempting to diffuse the tension.

He scoffed, "Talking won't magically make the song perfect! We need results, not empty words."

Remaining calm, you said, "I'm not trying to provide empty words. I'm here to support you, but yelling won't change anything."

Frustration boiling over, Chan exclaimed, "Support? I need more than support! I need solutions, and it feels like you're not getting it!"

Taking a deep breath, you carefully responded, "I'm on your side, Chan. We're a team, and we'll find a way together. But lashing out won't solve anything. Let's step back and rethink our approach."

He sighed, a mix of anger and exhaustion in his eyes, "I know, I just… I'm sorry. This is so much pressure, and I didn't mean to snap."

You nodded, "It's okay. We all have our moments. Let's take a break, clear our heads, and come back to it with a fresh perspective. We've got this, Chan."

As the tension gradually subsided, you both understood the challenges you faced but also the strength of your partnership to overcome them.

You extended your hand towards Chan, offering a silent gesture of reconciliation. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted his hand to hold yours. The touch, though tentative, spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you.

You guided him towards the couch, and as you both sat down, a heavy silence hung in the air. "Chan, I know it's tough," you began softly, "but we can navigate through this. We always do."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I just get overwhelmed sometimes, you know? It feels like the weight of everything is on my shoulders."

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, "You don't have to carry it all alone. We're a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, a team. I forget that sometimes."

"It happens," you reassured, "but we're in this together." The room was filled with a comforting silence as you both absorbed the shared understanding.

Chan finally broke the quietude, "Thank you for being patient with me. I don't say it enough, but I appreciate you."

"I know," you replied with a soft smile, "and I appreciate you too, Chan. Let's tackle this challenge together, one step at a time."

As the weight of the argument lifted, you both leaned back on the couch, finding solace in the shared space. The connection between you spoke of a partnership resilient enough to weather storms, and the quiet moments that followed were a testament to the strength you found in each other.

Feeling the need for a break, you suggested, "How about we take the rest of the night off, Chan? We could use a breather."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, a break sounds good. My head's been spinning with the music."

You both settled on the couch, legs stretched out on a large puff in front of you. "What do you feel like eating?" you asked.

Chan thought for a moment, "Let's go with something comforting. How about ramen and dumplings?"

"Perfect choice," you grinned, reaching for your phone to place an order.

While waiting for the food, Chan scrolled through the movie options. "How about this one?" he suggested, showing you the screen.

You nodded in approval, "Sounds good to me. Anything to take our minds off things for a while."

As the food arrived, you both dug into the delicious spread of ramen and dumplings. The tension from earlier slowly dissipated, replaced by the warmth of shared comfort food. The movie played, casting a soft glow in the room.

Chan stole a glance at you, "Thanks for this. I needed a break more than I realized."

"You're welcome," you replied, "Sometimes stepping back is the best way to find a new perspective."

*your pov*

As the movie played on the screen, my thoughts swirled like a whirlwind. The atmosphere was relaxed, the air tinged with the comforting scent of the food we just enjoyed. Yet, there was a subtle undercurrent of unspoken emotions.

Feeling the weight of the day's events, I contemplated our journey together. Chan's dedication and passion were evident in every note he crafted, yet the toll of creative struggles was undeniable. The realization dawned that sometimes, in the silence between shared glances, words weren't necessary.

In a moment of unspoken connection, I decided to lean my head on Chan's shoulder. It was a subtle move, a gesture seeking solace and understanding. The soft fabric of his shirt provided a tangible reassurance, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond we shared.

As my head rested against him, I could almost feel the tension dissipate. The movie continued to play, but my attention was drawn to the rhythm of his heartbeat. There was an unexpected intimacy in this simple act, as if the proximity ignited a flutter within both of us.

I stole a glance at Chan, and our eyes met briefly. In that moment, it felt like our hearts were engaged in a silent conversation, exchanging sentiments that words struggled to convey. I sensed a subtle shift, a recognition of vulnerability and strength entwined.

For Chan, my head on his shoulder seemed to unleash a cascade of emotions. The rise and fall of his chest quickened, a heartbeat echoing the unspoken understanding that enveloped us. It was a moment frozen in time, where the complexities of the day faded into the background, leaving room for an uncharted connection that pulsed between us.

*Chan pov*

As her head gently found its place on my shoulder, a mix of emotions stirred within me. The weight of the day's frustrations lingered, but her silent gesture offered an unexpected balm. I could feel the subtle warmth radiating from her, a connection transcending words.

My mind raced, contemplating the intricacies of our partnership. Her support was unwavering, a pillar that held me steady amidst the creative storms. In that moment, as the soft fabric of my shirt cradled her head, I couldn't help but acknowledge the depth of our bond.

Her presence felt like a lifeline, a silent reassurance that we were navigating the challenges together. The movie played on, but my focus shifted to the rhythm of our shared heartbeat. The vulnerability of the day seemed to dissolve in the quiet intimacy of this simple act.

As I stole a glance at her, our eyes met briefly, and a surge of warmth pulsed through me. It wasn't just the weight of the day that quickened my heartbeat; it was the realization that our connection ran deeper than the melodies we created. It was a shared journey, marked by unspoken understanding.

Her head on my shoulder seemed to unlock a reservoir of emotions. The uncharted territory of vulnerability and strength interwoven echoed in the accelerated beats of my heart. In this unassuming moment, I found solace and a silent promise that, no matter the challenges, we faced them united, and that, perhaps, there was more to our connection than even I had realized.

*end of povs*

As the movie wove its story on the screen, a quiet tranquility settled between you. The weight of the day gave way to a shared moment of solace, and the air held a delicate sense of connection.

In a subtle shift, Chan's fingers brushed against yours, and without a word, he reached out to intertwine your hands together. It was a gesture both gentle and firm, a silent agreement that spoke volumes. The warmth of his touch sent a reassuring current through you, a reminder that, despite the challenges, you were navigating this journey hand in hand.

The intertwining of your fingers became a dance of unspoken understanding—a language that surpassed the need for words, a silent promise echoing the depth of your connection. In that shared grasp, the complexities of the day seemed to fade, leaving behind a sense of unity resonating between your intertwined hands.

As your fingers found their natural fit, you stole a glance at Chan. His expression mirrored a subtle mix of reassurance and vulnerability—a moment frozen in time, a bridge between the challenges you faced and the uncharted territories that lay ahead.

The movie continued to play, but the real narrative unfolded in the intertwining of your fingers—a quiet acknowledgment that, no matter the twists and turns, your hands would navigate the journey together.

As your intertwined fingers created a connection, a comfortable silence enveloped you. The movie played in the background, providing a soothing soundtrack to your unspoken conversation.

The soft glow of the studio lights created an intimate atmosphere as you gazed into Chan’s deep brown eyes, a gentle smile on your face. "You know, one of the things I love most is seeing you feel loved by your members. Despite the hardships, the way you guys support each other is truly heartwarming."

Chan's eyes reflected gratitude, "Yeah, they mean everything to me. Their support has been my anchor."

You nodded, "And now, it's made me realize something important."

Curiosity flickered in Chan's gaze, "What is it?"

"I want you to feel loved and cherished by me too," you confessed, "just like you do with your members. You deserve that, Chan, and I want to be the one to give it to you."

A warmth spread across Chan's face, a mix of surprise and appreciation. "You'd do that for me?"

"Absolutely," you assured, "you've shown me your vulnerabilities, and I want you to know that I'm here for you, just as you've been for your members. You deserve all the love and support, and I'm ready to be a part of that for you."

As the weight of your words settled in the air, Chan's expression shifted from surprise to a profound sense of gratitude. It was a moment of mutual understanding, a bridge between the support he received from his members and the love he was now willing to accept from you.

You couldn't help but glance at Chan, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You know," you began, "seeing you well, in your element, it just… makes my heart flutter."

He turned to you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, "Really? I thought I was a bit of a mess today."

You chuckled, "Everyone has those days. But the way you handle it, your dedication, it's inspiring. And being here for you, supporting you, it just feels right."

Chan's gaze held a warmth that mirrored your sentiments, "You have this way of making everything feel a bit lighter. I appreciate that more than you know."

You grinned, "Well, if you ever need someone to share the weight, I'm here. Always."

His expression softened, "That means a lot. It's reassuring to know you're by my side through all of this."

You nodded, "Absolutely. We're a team, right?"

He squeezed your hand gently, "Right. A team." The acknowledgment lingered in the air, and in that moment, the unspoken promise of always being there for each other became a quiet foundation beneath the surface of your connection.

As the movie's glow painted the room, Chan took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. "I need to be honest with you," he began, his words measured yet sincere.

You turned your attention fully to him, a sense of curiosity and anticipation in the air. "What's on your mind, Chan?"

He ran his free hand through his hair, a subtle nervous gesture. "Over the past few months of working together, I've come to realize that just being part of a team with you might not be enough for me."

A quiet intensity settled between you, and you searched his eyes for understanding. "What do you mean?"

Chan met your gaze, "I've been feeling… more. More than just collaboration. It's like, every shared moment, every challenge we overcome, it's been building up. And I can't ignore it anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. "Chan, what are you trying to say?"

He took a moment before confessing, "I think I've developed feelings for you, more than just professional admiration. I care about you deeply, and I can't help but imagine a future where it's not just about the music, but about us, together."

A blend of surprise and warmth enveloped you. "Chan, I never saw this coming."

He nodded, "I know it's unexpected, but I needed to be honest with you. I've been grappling with these feelings, and it felt like the right time to share them."

The room hung in a delicate silence, the weight of Chan's revelation echoing in the air. It was a turning point, an acknowledgment that the dynamics between you had shifted beyond the realm of collaboration, and the uncharted territory you now faced held the potential for something deeper.

Chan chuckled, breaking the emotional tension, "You know what made me realize it even more? It's those moments when you're just… you. Like when you decide it's a good idea to get me all dirty with paint, or when you declare a spa day because you can't deal with your artwork anymore."

You couldn't help but laugh at the memories. "Guilty as charged. I might be a bit unconventional with stress relief."

He grinned, "And that's what I love. Those silly moments, the laughter – it's when I feel closest to you. Like that time we had face masks and painted each other's nails."

You chuckled, "I didn't think you'd enjoy that."

Chan shrugged, "Honestly, it was one of the best days. It made me realize how much I appreciate not just the artist in you, but the person. The one who's not afraid to be a bit goofy, to let loose."

The sincerity in his voice melted away any lingering uncertainty. "Chan, I appreciate your honesty. These feelings, they're not one-sided," you admitted, "Those moments we share, they mean a lot to me too."

As the weight of his confession and your shared laughter lingered in the air, it became clear that your connection had transcended the professional realm. The acknowledgment of deeper feelings was met with a warmth that extended beyond the art studio, painting a canvas of possibilities for the journey ahead.

Chan's laughter filled the room, a contagious sound that lightened the atmosphere. "And you know what really got to me?" he continued, "When you started recreating all those memes from the group. Like that time you screamed 'Ice cream!' just like Minho."

You grinned, "Well, Minho's enthusiasm is contagious. I couldn't resist."

Chan chuckled, "You nailed it. I couldn't stop laughing. And then there was the moment you sang 'Listen to my heart beat' just like Chanbin. I think that's when I realized, I love seeing you be a part of our craziness."

You blushed, "I never expected my attempts at humor to have such an impact."

"It's not just the humor," Chan explained, "It's the fact that you're willing to dive into our world, to be a part of it. It's endearing, and I can't help but be drawn to it."

As your laughter echoed through the room, it became another layer of your connection—one that transcended the challenges of music and embraced the joyous, silly moments that brought you closer. The acknowledgment of these shared experiences added a touch of lightheartedness to the depth of emotions already present in the room.

As the glow of the TV casting a soft ambiance. Your eyes met Chan's gaze, there was an unspoken understanding, a connection that transcended words. A subtle shift occurred as your fingers brushed against each other's arms. The touch was gentle, tentative, yet filled with a mutual yearning for the uncharted.

Chan leaned in slowly, his eyes shifting from yours to your lips. The anticipation hung in the air, a sweet tension building. You found yourself doing the same, drawn to the magnetic pull of this unexplored territory.

In that moment of suspended time, your lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a delicate fusion of emotions—affection, longing, and the acknowledgment of something new and beautiful. Chan's hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing against it softly, deepening the connection between you.

The kiss unfolded in a slow dance, a merging of two souls discovering a shared melody. The studio, once filled with the echoes of music, now held the harmonious rhythm of your intertwined emotions.

Time seemed to melt away, forgotten in the tender exchange between you and Chan. The once-muted movie now a distant hum, overshadowed by the quiet symphony of shared emotions. As you shifted, Chan's hands found your hips beneath the oversized t-shirt, a subtle reassurance that echoed the newfound connection.

With a gentle motion, Chan helped you transition, and you found yourself straddling his lap. The warmth of his touch lingered through the fabric, creating a cocoon of intimacy. The shared gaze spoke volumes, revealing a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words.

Your arm circled around his neck, fingers gently tangling in his soft, curly hair. The texture was a testament to the authenticity of the moment, the tangible connection grounding you both in the reality of this shared space.

As your bodies intertwined, the studio became a canvas for a different kind of art—one painted with shared glances, lingering touches, and the quiet melody of your breaths. The oversized t-shirt draped loosely, a symbol of the vulnerability and ease that enveloped you.

Chan's hands on your hips and the soft strands of his hair entwined with your fingers created an unspoken language—a dance of intimacy that deepened with each passing moment. The movie, now a mere backdrop, faded into the periphery as your shared connection took center stage.

hey guys, this is my first time posting my writing here! hope you enjoy it.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I'm so glad I found a person who has Harry James Potter as a favourite character, he's my favourite character too and inspiration

Glad you enjoyed!

Harry has always been my favorite character in the books he's so special to me, and I hate the movies for doing him dirty.

He's sarcastic, clever, stubborn, resilient and an actually amazing wizard. He's a better strategist than Hermione but no one talks about it (I love Hermione, but she's good at memorizing books and solving riddles, not making battle plans). And he is so funny, in a more sassy way than Ron but their sense of humor really matches in the books and you see why they are such great friends (and I love their friendship).

Harry isn't some sweet hero or a paragon of any kind, he's angry, like, really angry, and I love that about him. He has every right to have a bad temper because his life sucks. By the final books he casts Unforgivables out easily, Snape is surprised he managed to cast Sectumsempra, but it really isn't surprising when it comes to Harry "hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through him like poison" Potter (a paraphrased quote from POA!)

But with how truly awful his life is he pushes forward with way less angsting than he could have pulled (like he has his angsty moments, and I love them too! I wouldn't have loved him as much without his angst, yes, even in OOTP). I find his mind so fun to be in and love the fact he is the narrator for the majority of the books. He's the kind of brave where he's scared but fear never stops him because whatever you threaten him with, he's had worse. I just really love Harry and whenever I try to read fics it's just not his character there...

One time, an irl colleague told me that out of the Golden Trio my personality reminded them most of Harry, and it made my week.

My love for Harry James Potter's character is a foaming-at-the-mouth sort of love where I want to dissect his brain but also cover him in a blanket and give him hot chocolate milk while whisking him away from all the adults who failed him.

I'm so glad to find more people who love him too.

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number, Part 3

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

(four weeks ago)

J: guess what?

HS: What?

J: no you actually have to guess!

HS: Why?

J: i wouldn't have said guess what if i didn't want you to actually guess. i would've just told you

J: so guess!

HS: Uh...you went on a date with a decent guy?

J: normally i would say RUDE but you're correct!

J: still...RUDE

(ten minutes later)

HS: Wow.

J: wow? just wow? i'm making real progress here!

J: college graduate, good head of hair, sense of humor that isn't misogynistic, and he's stupid hot

J: i think i'm in love

HS: After just one date? Don't you think it's a little too soon to tell?

J: who knew you were such debbie downer

J: i think you need to go on a date. maybe that'll make you believe in the power of love and a beautiful smile

HS: Ha ha

HS: I already told you I'm too busy.

J: no one's too busy for love h

(present day)

Y/n had never felt more nervous in her life.

Here she was sitting across from the person she'd spent countless days and weeks and months texting. There was never a moment where she didn't have anything to say to him, but now her mind was completely blank.

She wasn't supposed to see him again. The tour buses were typically a ghost town as it got closer and closer to show time, so she figured she could wait there before she had to leave for the airport.

When Y/n saw Harry outside the tour bus, she thought he'd come to yell at her some more; part of her thought she was about to be sent to jail for stalking. But all he wanted to do was talk.

And now they were on a couch not saying a word.

There was too much that needed to be said, but Y/n didn't know how to start, and she assumed Harry didn't either because he was just as quiet. But since the silence was almost as unbearable as when he yelled at her, she mustered the courage to say something.

"I...I don't know how to convince you that I'm not a stalker," she said, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. Then she laughed a little.

"What?"

Her eyes flicked up to Harry's, and when he wasn't laughing or smiling with her, she stopped. "We, uh, we had the same conversation, only in reverse, remember?"

Y/n had gone through many emotions that day—mortification, terror. She'd gone out on a limb by texting so soon after a date, and to find out that said date had given her a fake phone number was not the best feeling in the world. And then realizing that she'd sent a picture of herself half-naked...not her proudest moment.

"I—It was a risk for me too, you know," she said quietly. "I didn't know who you were, either, and I—I don't know what else you want me to say. I wasn't lying. You were the one who asked to talk, so talk."

Harry didn't talk, at least not at first. Y/n wasn't going to say anything else until he did, though. He'd yelled at her, called her sick, assumed the absolute worst without about her before stopping to ask for an explanation. And she understood, but then why not just let her be? Why drag this out?

"I want to believe you. I'm trying to believe you," Harry said. "You just—You have to understand how alarming this was for me. This isn't the first time my phone number has gotten leaked."

"I'm sorry." It was all Y/n could think of to say.

"And so hearing you say my name when I'd never told you...I got scared, and—and angry that it'd happened again."

Y/n understood where Harry was coming from, and she didn't blame him for not believing her, but this all seemed redundant. She already forgave him in her note. Perhaps she could try a different approach.

"I didn't know who One Direction was when we first started talking," she said. "I didn't even know who One Direction was until I got this job."

Harry's brows raised. "Really?"

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You're popular, but not that popular."

To her surprise, Harry laughed. It was small and weak, but it was a laugh. "Fair enough."

"I swear I didn't know who you were until this tour. I saw the first couple shows on the road, I saw just how many fans you guys have, and so maybe I did a little research, but I didn't know it was Harry Styles, beloved by millions of teenage girls around the world, that I was texting."

Harry scooted closer to her, and with wide eyes, Y/n scooted away. She didn't know what that meant, or why he did it, but she wasn't ready for it. They'd been friends, were friends, she didn't know what they were. He was close enough for now.

Harry was...very gorgeous. Y/n was well aware of that after seeing pictures of him online and in passing during the day. Now that they were up close, she was suddenly aware of his pretty green eyes and hair that curled down to his shoulders. And the tattoos. God, how many times had she told Harry that she loved a guy with tattoos?

"So...You really only found out a few days ago?" he asked.

"I only know what you've said over text," Y/n said with a nod. "And some of your discography, obviously. And the names of your fellow boy band members."

Y/n watched as Harry took in what she said, hoping he would believe her, or at the very least not be angry with her anymore. She knew they would probably never be friends, but maybe she could go back home knowing he didn't hate her or think she was crazy.

"I...believe you. I think," he said after a couple long minutes.

"Don't say that if you don't—"

"No, I—I told you a few days ago that I know you, and I meant that," he insisted. "I jumped to conclusions because of past circumstances, but thinking clearly and reading your letter...those instances and this aren't the same. I'm sorry for exploding on you like that."

Y/n shook her head. "You said it yourself. This wasn't the first time something like this has happened. You had a right to be angry."

"I just—This wasn't how I wanted this to go."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted—I wanted the first time we met to be...I don't know what I wanted but I didn't want it to be like this."

Eyes blinking in surprise, Y/n said, "Well, I'm glad you believe me. Maybe we can still be frie—Oh."

Before Y/n could finish what she was saying, her phone went off. Her alarm.

"What's that?"

Y/n looked down at her phone, then up at Harry. Things seemed to be mended for the most part, but she didn't want to press her luck. If she left now, maybe they could go back to the way things were before their identities were more or less revealed.

"I set an alarm so I would make it to the airport on time," she said, standing up from the couch. "My flight isn't for another two hours, but I like to get there early because of security and all that."

"You're leaving?" Harry asked, sounding incredulous, though you weren't sure why.

"I told you I was. You threatened to call the police on me, remember?"

"But—But we fixed everything. I thought...This is still your foot in the door, June. I don't want to take that away from you."

It was sweet that he was still thinking about her career, Y/n thought. But... "I appreciate that you're taking my career into account, but I think I need some time to digest the fact that the...friend that I've been texting for the last couple months is—is—"

The truth was Y/n needed to get over the fact that she couldn't actually be with her perfect stranger. When she could hide behind her phone, it was easier to fantasize and come back down to earth, but now the reality of their situation was slapping her in the face. This wasn't going to end with the two of them together.

"Is what? Not who you thought I was?"

"I was taken by surprise too, you know. I thought, or I'd hoped for—"

"What?

"Nothing. I have to catch my flight," Y/n said. She stood up from the couch, or tried to, anyway. Harry reached for her wrist, keeping her there. She knew she could easily pull away and stand up, but she didn't. "Maybe I should've let you believe I was crazy," she said with a laugh. "It would've made leaving easier."

"You don't have to go," Harry insisted. "You're my friend, and I—"

"But I don't want to just be your friend, Harry!" She said, finally pulling her hand from his. "Maybe that makes me crazy for developing feelings for someone before I ever met them, but I'm not sure I could sit around and pretend that I don't want to take your face in my hands and—"

Y/n didn't even register that Harry had moved closer to her. Couldn't make a single noise before they were nose and his lips were on hers. She could only stare, nearly cross-eyed, so surprised she could hardly register how soft his lips were. And then, for just a moment, Y/n closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the kiss. Her hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer, pulling him over her, but before they could get any further her senses took over.

"H—Wha—What are you doing—"

"Do you know how hard it was to watch you go on and on about going out with complete dickheads?" he asked, not trying to kiss Y/n, but not moving away either. "To know that some undeserving idiot was taking you out and treating you so wrong when I could've—when I knew I could be better than that, be someone you deserved."

"You never—I don't understand." She did, she just didn't want to.

"June," Harry said. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek so gently, yet it sent chills throughout her whole body. "I want—I want y—"

Y/n didn't let him finish as she pressed her lips to his again. A hum rumbled from Harry's chest, clearly pleased by her reaction. She let herself savor every feeling—from the hand that cradled her face and laid her back across the couch to hair that created a curtain over the both of them and his persistent mouth that wanted more, more, more. The leather sofa was cool against her back and she whimpered, but Harry only took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, slotting a leg between hers while her arms threaded around his neck.

"Tell me you'll stay," he said, breathing only slightly shallow. Y/n had only kissed Harry twice, but she was aching to do it again. She leaned forward, but he moved just out of reach, his fingers holding her chin in place. "I'm sorry for yelling and immediately assuming the worst, but please don't go. Not yet."

He looked so sincere, Y/n thought. The way Harry stared at her was intense but endearing. His lips were a little swollen from all the kissing, and some of his hair was hanging in his face. She could understand why so many people were attracted to him, even outside the realm of physical beauty. If Y/n didn't know him the way she did and he still looked at her like that, she would do nothing short of eating out of the palm of his hand. His energy was hypnotizing, his intentions were good, and he had a decent heart to match. Y/n wasn't sure she'd be able to leave even if she wanted to.

"I won't. I promise."

If him pleading with her hadn't done the trick, his smile would have. It was full of hope rounded out by deep dimples and charm. "Really?"

"I know it probably won't be easy, but I want this too. I want you."

She spent so much of her time on guys who didn't care, who weren't after what she was after. Recently, Y/n had only gone out on dates because she thought she was crazy for developing feelings for someone she'd never met, but now...

She didn't even think it was possible, but Harry's grin widened, and when she leaned in again, he let her. They only kissed for a few minutes before Y/n pulled back with a start. "Wait!"

"What?"

She giggled, then smoothed the corner of his mouth where there was a little lip gloss. "You don't even know my name."

Realization dawned on Harry, as if he'd never even thought about calling her anything other than June, which was fine by her, but she figured he at least needed to know her real name.

"Oh right. I guess we should do this properly. I'm Harry, and I would very much like to take you out sometime."

Y/n grinned and awkwardly shook his hand while Harry was still on top of her. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Y/n, but you can call me June. Almost everyone does."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of nicknames," she said, looking at him oddly. "Why?"

"I want a name that's just mine," Harry said.

Running a hand through his hair, she said, "Well, can we kiss while you figure something out."

"Absolutely."

Twelve uninterrupted minutes. That's what Y/n and Harry got. He supposed they could've spent it talking, but they had plenty of time to talk. Harry just wanted to be close to her, and Y/n wanted the same.

It was weird to see her, to know she was June, and associate her with a different name. But not too bad that he needed a minute to think about it.

In twelve minutes, Harry was out of his shirt and Y/n was working on getting hers off. They knew better than to do anything more than that, but he liked seeing her in a way he never thought he would, and he could only imagine she felt the same. When Y/n finally managed to get her shirt over her head, Harry felt a bit like an ass for staring, but he couldn't help it. He was taking every inch of her in. Every curve, freckle and scar. Y/n squirmed a little under his gaze and attempted to cross her arms over herself, which was when he finally looked back up at her lovely face.

"Sorry. You're quite beautiful."

That wasn't a dick thing to say, right? He avoided stating the obvious, which was he wanted to put his mouth everywhere and didn't quite know where to start, but something crossed Y/n's face. Harry didn't quite know what it meant, but he would.

Though he did get a little worried he said the wrong thing, but before he could ask she pulled him down to her again.

All of that in twelve minutes. Harry wanted more, would've maybe gotten more, but the door to the tour bus flew open, and a voice drew nearer before either of them could separate.

"Harry? You in here? People are losing their minds because—Woah."

Harry was quick to maneuver himself in front of June as Niall's eyes fell on the two of them. He reached down and grabbed his shirt and shrugged it on. "Everyone can keep their pants on. I'm coming."

"Can you?"

"Niall!" Harry said, but June just giggled behind him. He looked back at her to see her smiling.

"It was a little funny."

Shaking his head, Harry leaned forward and kissed the top of hers. "I have to go—Can you give us a minute?" he asked, throwing a look over his shoulder at Niall.

"Yeah," he said, though most of it was covered up by laughter at having caught his friend. "Yeah, I'll—Wait a minute. Is that June?"

She peeked out behind Harry's shoulder. "Hello."

Harry's mind was alphabet soup for a moment while he tried to make sense of what was essentially his two worlds colliding. It would make sense that Niall knew June because he was always hanging out with the 5SOS boys.

"But what about that girl you've been moping about—"

"Niall."

"I'm going! I'm going! I gotta go tell Calum and the boys."

"Niall, no—And he's gone." Y/n sighed and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Then she playfully pinched his side. "Moping?"

"Oh hush."

J: where are you?

HS: Radio interview. I'll be back soon.

HS: Why?

J: i was gonna do a little shopping. thought you might wanna join

J: BUT i will just go by myself

HS: Sorry. I'll see you after?

J: fiiine

HS: Okay I'm back. Where are you?

J: still shopping!

HS: All you buy are t-shirts. How does that take so long?

J: um...RUDE i guess i'll just put the super sexy panties away

HS: ...please don't hurry

J: that's what i thought

HS: I miss you :((

J: you saw me twenty minutes ago

HS: I want you in my bunk

J: a little late seeing as we're already on the road!

HS: :(((

J: everyone is going to hate me, but do you want me to call you?

HS: No it's fine.

HS: Can you switch buses at the next stop for gas?

J: you're unbelievable

J: yes of course

HS: :)))

HS: Louis wants you to know we're disgusting!

J: tell louis he can kiss my ass

HS: I will do no such thing. Your ass is mine

HS: Louis is right

J: we are disgusting

HS: So... I'll see you in a couple hours

J: can't wait xx

J: but until then (download image here)

and that's a wrap! i hope y'all enjoy the last part! thanks for all the love on this fic, everyone has been so sweet💕💕

tags:

@cookielovesbook-akie @sucker4angstt @l0v3e1i @bellesmith628 @marigold-morelli @obsessedmaggiemay @voniikg @onecrazydirectioner @unabashedcolorfrienddreamer @austinsvlrslut @iheartharlow @jessitpwk @fictionalmenloversblog @onceagainace @zucchinimalfoy @sqrxndipity @indierockgirrl @drwho06 @shakiraa-a @nomyeyebrowsarentreal @sleutherclaw @yeehawbrothers @harryspirate

[yan-lorkai]

Cain I request a yandere!king malleus with a darling that hates him since he kidnapped them?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, kidnapping, reader jokes about commiting suicide.

From the moment Malleus laid eyes on you, his darling, he knew that you two were meant to be together foverer and ever. It was love at first sight as Lilia once read to him.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor, for you, the object of his affection harbored nothing but hatred for him since the day he had very gently and carefully taken you home. He remembered how easy it was to break into your room and to cradle you in his arms, you seemed to weight almost nothing to him and your peaceful expression was so breath taking that he almost believed he died.

He remembered how joyful he was when he brought you back to Diasomnia. And many years later, to Briar's Valley, through this time as his consort and lover. As the years passed, however, your hatred seemed to persist as stronger as fire, you still fight him, mock him and insult him, it's almost like dealing with a feral kitten and Malleus finds it more funny than bothersome.

Two to three years it's still too little time for someone like him who has a very long lifespan. For you, things are different though. So would just be better to surrender yourself to his love and care? You don't get frustrated at every failed escape attempting? At every punishment? He thinks but never comes to a conclusion.

Malleus watchs you from afar, his eyes asking for your love, his ears waiting for the day you would proclaim your affection to him. For someone so old, he is quite dreamy and full with innocent wishes, he get giddy just by been able to hold you, even if it's unwilling on your part. Even if you frown in disdain at his declarations of love and try to put some distance between you two when he try to kiss you or when you ignore him when he talks oh so sofly with you.

Despite your relutance, Malleus couldn't bear to be apart from you. He kept you close, a prisoner in the gilded cage of his castle, hoping that time would soften your heart towards him. But each passing day only seemed to fuel your hatred, as you plotted your escape with a determination that matched his own obsession.

Or rather, another failed escape attempt. And you sit at his feets and looks into his eyes. Even in your hatred, your unwavering defiance ignited a spark within him that still drew Malleus to you, almost as if he was a child discovering a new fuction on his toys.

"What I'm going to do with you, love?" Nickname rolling from his lips without him thinking twice. Because for him, you are his love, his entire existence, his universe and stars. It pains to know that he isn't your love yet, but he's going to be soon.

You remain stubbornly quiet, only looking into his eyes because his hands hold onto your face so tightly, almost bruising skin. But you don't give even the satisfaction of knowing this. You give him nothing.

"So fierce and fearless," Malleus ponders with a smile. "yet so tired and in so much pain. I can see all you think you can hide, can see how much you struggle against you and the feelings you harbor. But you don't have to!"

Malleus's smile widens as he pulls you closer, forcing you to stand up, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His words carry a strange mixture of concern and possessiveness, like a predator eyeing its prey with both hunger and affection.

"You don't have to keep struggling," He repeats softly, his voice almost a whisper against the backdrop of your racing heart. "I can take care of you, my dear. I can ease your pain, soothe your worries, and protect you from everything that troubles you."

You feel a knot tightening in your stomach, a mixture of fear and apprehension coursing through your veins. There's nothing alluring about Malleus's offer, there was no way you could let him even closer than he already was. For loving him would mean admitting that everything he did and take at this point meant nothing and were correct as he believed.

"I would…" you start to protest, the words catching in your throat as Malleus's gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

"Hush, child of man," He interrupts, his voice firm yet strangely soothing. "Just let me take care of you. Let me be the one to shoulder your burdens, to erase your pain, to fill your world with nothing but love and devotion."

His hand reaches out, fingers tracing delicately along the curve of your jaw and lips, sending electric sparks dancing across your skin; as he always used to do. Touch with so much care that could make you cry, if cared at all. Which you don't, instead you free yourself from his grasp and he lets you.

You take solance on the balcony, fresh air hitting your face just right to wipe the traces of his fingers off your skin. You hate him so much.

"Trust me," Malleus whispers, deceving voice sounding so soothing. For a second you reconsider everything but shake those thoughts out of your head and remain certain of your own convictions. "I'll never let anyone or anything hurt you. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Well... No one could hurt you more than he already did.

"I rather die, thank you." It's your tired response, though you laugh a little. You love life too much to do anything other than joke. "There's so many ways I could try."

Normally this would make Malleus leave the room now, he doesn't like to knowledge your different lifespans, but this time he remains motionless. For several long seconds only his increasingly erratic breathing cuts through the silence. Then you can hear the strong thunder that comes tearing the sky in the distance and unlike other times, you turn around to face him. An error!

The very composed attitude that Malleus acquired after years of being king is in pieces, his expression darkens at your words, a shadow passing over his features as he processes the gravity of your statement. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your skin with a mixture of desperation and frustration.

"No," He breathes, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't mean that. You won't ever know death, not now nor ever. You belong to me," Malleus hisses, his grip becoming almost painful as he tries to pull you closer, to erase the distance between you and ensure that you never leave his side.

You whines in pain, not knowing how to react at his sudden outburst. "You're mine, and I won't let you go. I'll never let anyone else have you, not while I draw breath. I'II protect you even from yourself if I need to."

His words are tinged with a mixture of desperation and obsession, a dark promise of what awaits anyone who dares to challenge his claim on you. And as you stare into his eyes, seeing the depths of his devotion and the ferocity of his love, you realize with a sinking feeling that there's no escaping the clutches of Malleus's obsession. It's very possible that you may never be capable of escaping, not from him or his guards.

For better or for worse, you're his, bound to him in every way. You remain in his arms for a long time and he refuses any attempt at letting you go this time, his nose resting on the top of your head and inhaling your scent slowly. You almost feel bad. For you, for him, if only things were different you would be happy to be here and now. But you aren't, you won't be.

Not now nor ever.

Even if it's futile, even if he traps you inside an eternal dream. You won't ever let your hatred burn down and disappear, you won't know what to do if you let this happens. It is better to live with a lie than to conform to the truth.

[suuuupernovaaa]

pxen

pxen [p’ɛn] n. functional clothing (item of)

Based on this request.

Lo'ak reaches out, touching the delicate woven poncho that his sister is wearing. It's not the kind of thing Lo'ak would typically notice, but something about it has caught his eye. There's a sparkle to it, something woven through the fabric that catches the light, very similar to the na'vi skin in the darkness of night.

"Where did you get this?" Lo'ak asks. Kiri looks down, and then shrugs.

"It was just with my stuff. It's really pretty, though. Tuk found one too... and mom."

"Huh," Lo'ak says, and his attention is then drawn to the carpet under his feet. A rug, brown and maroon, intricately woven and brand new. "This is new too, right?"

Kiri looks down, following her brother's gaze. "I think so. Looks clean."

"Huh," Lo'ak repeats, and then shrugs and moves on with his day.

xx

Even though I knew this day would come, I've been hoping to put it off for as long as possible. It isn't so much that I don't want to meet Neteyam's family, it's just that I'm worried to disappoint them.

As much as Neteyam hates it when I point it out, he's special. Not just because of the things I love about him, like his quiet sense of humor, his easy-going smile, his strength and his compassion.

He's special because of who he is, and who he was born to be. His birthright makes him special. Eldest son of Olo'eyktan. Were Neteyam ugly, harsh, stupid and cruel - the true opposite of himself - he would still be above my station.

He would still be too good for me.

And yet, here we are, walking hand in hand to meet his parents, so that he can introduce me as his betrothed. His intended mate. I had always told him I did not want his family to know about me, but never really told him why, until last night.

"Why now?" Neteyam had asked when I told him I was finally ready to meet his parents, moments after he took my hands into his and asked me to be his mate for life.

"Because I know now, truly that you love me. I don't need to be afraid anymore."

He had shaken his head and brushed a tear from my cheek. "I've loved you since the moment we met."

So now we approach their home, and even though I am secure in my relationship with Neteyam, I am nervous about being accepted into their family. He reassures me over and over that they will love me as he does, they will be thrilled for us, but it doesn't stop me from feeling sick to my stomach.

"Neteyam!" Taruk Makto is the first to greet him as we enter their tent, looking up from where he sits, and it's overwhelming to be in such close proximity to our clan leader. I bow my head as he looks from me to Neteyam and back at me again. His wife, Neytiri, is seated at his side, and turns her attention away from the arrows she is sharpening to look at us.

"Dad," Neteyam says, "Mom. I want to introduce you to Y/N."

He lets go of my hand, and places his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. After only a moment of hesitation, Neteyam's parents rise to their feet. As they do, I feel movement behind me, and glance to see Neteyam's siblings entering.

Kiri is wearing the shawl I made for her, and Tuk has a dressing wrapped around her tail that I crafted. Beneath our feet, I notice a rug I just finished a few days ago. It makes me feel a little more at ease and at home, to be surrounded by my creations.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Olo'eyktan says, and I touch my fingertips to my forehead, and then bring them down in a formal greeting. I repeat the gesture for Neteyam's mother.

"I've been, uh, spending a lot of time with Y/N. She's really wonderful. She's better on the loom than anyone else in the clan. She made the rug we stand on, and Kiri's poncho, and many other things I've brought home. She was just too, uh, shy to own up to her talent."

Neytiri turns around, looking on a nearby table, and grabs another poncho I made. This one is green, more earthy than the sparkly one Kiri is wearing.

"This, too?" Neytiri asks, and I nod. "This is beautiful. They're all beautiful. Truly, unlike anything I've seen. You made these?"

"I did," I reply a little nervously. "I wanted to give them to you myself but, since we hadn't be introduced, I had Neteyam bring them to you."

"I asked Y/N to be my mate last night, and she said yes," Neteyam says suddenly, and a hush falls over the room.

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, wondering which way their reactions will go.

Confusion? Anger? Disappointment?

"Wow, that's insane!" comes a cry from Lo'ak, and he reaches out, extending his arms to me for a hug. "Another sister, I guess! I mean, I've got enough, but you seem okay." He wraps me in strong arms, and I return the hug, so grateful that he's broken the silence.

When Lo'ak releases me, I turn anxiously to see Neteyam's parents, and the scene is exactly what I would have dreamed up if I hadn't been too scared to imagine this day.

Netytiri holds her eldest son in her arms, and over his shoulder, she smiles serenely at me. Jake has his hands outstretched, one on his wife's shoulders, the other on Neteyam's.

"I wish you had brought her here sooner, so we could get to know her!" Neytiri says.

"You guys are scary," Neteyam replies, and his father laughs. Neytiri reaches out, extending a hand to me, and I place my hand in hers.

"I have known something was going on with my son. He is as happy as he has ever been, smiling like a moron from morning until night. I was waiting for this moment." She holds one of my hand in both of hers, grinning at me. "You are welcome in our family. Now we can give you gifts in return, for the beautiful things you have given us."

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed at the tears pricking behind my eyes. "No, you don't have to do that. I like making those things."

Our chief hugs me next, quickly and a little awkwardly, and the relief I feel is palpable.

Quick acceptance is a surprise. I had imagined at least a little resistance, but I hadn't counted on Neteyam's parents putting his health and happiness above all else.

How could I? I didn't know them, hadn't known that besides being Olo'eyktan and the next Tsahik, Neytiri and Jake were just parents who loved their children.

We leave the tent much later, after hours of talking and celebration, and before we get too far away, Neteyam pulls me into his arms and presses his lips to mine in what feels like a long overdue kiss.

"I knew they would love you, just as I do," he whispers, his lips still touching mine.

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Two Peas In A Pod

—A blessing... or a calamity in disguise?

Fandom: Blue Lock

Pairing: Nagi X Fem!Reader

Genre: Crack, Humor, Horror

Format: Short fic

Warnings: Breast feeding, Jealousy, Probably ooc!Nagi

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: Idk I just thought this would fit him lol. Might remind you of boss baby.

There are moments in life which can never be forgotten. Long awaited moments that leave a sweet velvety taste in your mouth and get engraved on your memory,

Moments like this.

Nagi is in hospital, standing next to the delivery room with his infant in his arms. He's wearing the most genuine smile he could ever wear, staring at his baby boy's angelic face. The baby has the tiniest hands ever that would get lost in his if he were to hold them, and the cutest chubby feet ever. He could just eat them right away.

"Wow Nagi, he looks just like you!" Reo says, smiling at the sight while snapping a picture. "You two are like two peas in the pod, except that his hair isn't long enough to be as messy as yours"

"I know. I did hope he'd take after y/n, but he's still cute"

Your husband looks so grown up like this with a baby in his hands. That's what makes Reo to snap another picture, this time in full frame of both Nagi and the baby. His smile is as soft as when he watched him saying his vow to you, and he can't help but to feel happy for his best friend.

"I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee and call Isagi and others. They've been waiting for the news"

"Ok"

Nagi's gaze doesn't leave the baby's face to follow Reo's footsteps walking away. He persistently stares at the baby's closed eyelids, wondering if they're hazel colored like his, or have the color of your eyes. Maybe it's a mixture of both, he thinks, if it's possible. He doesn't have to wait for long to find out though, because suddenly, the baby's eyelids start shuddering and in less than a second, they're wide open, displaying the warm chocolate brown color of his eye balls.

Every inch of his figure resembles his father. Even the look in his eyes is curious, just like Nagi's is right now.

"Welcome home, little thing. We're gonna have so much fun together, me and you"

…

"I don't think that's gonna happen"

Nagi doesn't know whether he should believe his ears, or his eyes. A talking baby? That's a miracle! Babies don't start talking until they're two years old, but this one in his arms was definitely the one talking a little while before, since his intense stare is piercing through Nagi's heart.

I must have very strong genes.

"What do you mean, that's not gonna happen?"

"Oh sorry, I guess I wasn't being clear on the matter" The baby speaks in a semi-grown up voice. "I meant that, you won't be having much fun from now on"

"How come?"

The baby's innocent expression is all gone. Now there's a straight yet devilish look on his face which Nagi doesn't find charming. "I thought you would already figure out that much, but I guess I was wrong. Heh...what a pain"

"Stop giving me that shit and tell me already"

"You don't care much for sharing; do you, my dear father?"

Oh.

Nagi doesn't like where this is going. He feels an unwelcoming sense of threat in his heart.

"So what? Are you saying you're gonna steal y/n from me?"

"No..."

The grin on the baby's face isn't casual. All of a sudden, Nagi doesn't find a single thing resembling him. The baby looks more like... Light Yagami from death note, the blond version.

"...I'm saying that I already have"

This can't be happening.

"Tough luck. You'll never be able to split us off. Y/n's love for me is boundless. I'm her one and only"

"You were her one and only" His gums are visible through his demonic smirk. "Now that I'm here, you won't get a quarter of the attention you used to receive. From now on, I'll be the one who sleeps in her arms at— well all the time. She'll always be near me, looking after me since I'm just a fragile little thing. The time she used to spend alone with you is gonna be limited to less than ten minutes, and your share of affection will also be mine. Even if you two do get the time to be alone with each other, she'll be too exhausted to even look at your face. She wouldn't miss it, since she gets to be with me all the time"

The world comes crashing down on the white haired man. Through his storming mind, he can see himself curled up under the strangely ice cold blanket while staring at you frustratingly, asking you to get in the bed with him already. But standing on the other side of the room, it feels like you're a thousand miles away, voice barely making its way to his hear yet so destructively striking him, saying you have to put the baby to sleep first. Even after doing that, you're so tired that you pass out on the bed before Nagi can even lay a finger on you.

"Not only that, I'm gonna take away all the other things you enjoy as well"

Another illusion appears before his eyes, only this time he's sitting on the couch, and you're standing in front of him, wearing a somewhat annoyed expression.

"I'm sorry Sei, but we can't afford to buy more video games anymore. We have to start saving up for Light's college"

No.... that can't be real. He can't give up on his video games for a serial killer's his child's future. That's absurd. You're not expecting him to do that, are you? You know how video games are important to him.

"Just you wait my stupid father, I will take everything you cherish in your life, and it starts from this very moment, with your most loved one"

His most... loved one?

Just as he's about to ask the little demon about his intention, the door to the room opens and a nurse comes out. "Alright! It's the baby's lunch time"

No. Not that.

"His lunch time? You mean, y/n's gonna feed her...?"

Nagi's voice is shivery, like he didn't know about how the babies drink milk. The nurse is a little taken aback by that, but still keeps her smile on.

"Yes sir, he needs to be fed right now, so if I may..." She reaches out to take the baby from his embrace, but fails when Nagi steps back.

"You... can't do that. I mean, this baby looks like he should drink formula milk instead of breast milk. It'll be better for him"

"The hell are you talking about, Nagi? Let the nurse take him to y/n" Reo suddenly appears next to him, giving him a questioning look.

"No— You don't understand— I—"

"What's up with you man? Here, ma'am; take the little thing to his mommy"

Nagi feels all the misery existing in the world raining on him as he watches the nurse take the infant to you. Reo looks away when you pull up your hospital gown to reveal the enchanting sight of your breast that are bigger than usual and are full of milk, all ready to be devoured in the baby devil's throat. This is it. The beginning of his torment, the sight of his most comforting treasure being possessed by another person, shattering his heart into a zillion pieces.

"No..."

The baby squeezes your right nipple with his hand, letting out a small whine.

"Stop it... No..."

You softly caress his cheek and baby talk him to enjoy his meal.

Why can't all of you people see his devilish smirk?

"No..."

The baby looks at him from the corner of his eyes. He's taking his most special thing, his stress balls, his warm pillows he snuggles his face into at nights, his soft squishies he plays with whenever he's bored, his delicious jello balls he sucks on to help him go to sleep...

"No... No... No..."

You hold your left boob and snuggle him closer to help him drink, and he helps himself out, by brutally taking it into his mouth.

It happens.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

Then Nagi wakes up from his sleep.

Through his blurry vision, he recognizes his room in the middle of the night, and of course, your kind hand on his shoulder.

"Sei? Are you ok sweetheart?"

Nagi keeps panting. He hurriedly looks around the room to see any sign of the baby, but thankfully, he finds nothing. He can't ignore the cute bump of your belly under your oversized T-shirt though.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"If the baby looks like me we'll give it away"

"Excuse me??!"

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

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[miss-musings]

"You Should Be More Careful With Your Shooting Hand": Was There a Better Way to Address Crosshair's Hand Tremors?

In the weeks since The Bad Batch series finale, I've seen a lot of discussion about how the show handled Crosshair's PTSD, hand tremors and losing his hand to CX-2. I've seen some positive and some negative, and a lot of mixed thoughts.

So, I wanted to share my thoughts on it purely from a writing perspective. There are a lot of aspects of TBB Season 3 that could've been executed better -- *cough* CX-2 *cough* -- but I just want to focus on these ideas on paper.

Before we start: I want to state for the record that I do not have PTSD, nor am I any kind of authority on mental health conditions. I am commenting on this only from a writing perspective. If I happen to come across as insensitive, I apologize because that's not my intention.

So, let's set up the general scenario and look at a few options for tackling it, analyzing the pros and cons of each option.

An Overview of Crosshair's Hand Tremors in S3

From his very first appearance in Season 3, we see that Crosshair has a tremor in his right hand. It is implied to be a symptom of PTSD — or something akin to it in the Star Wars universe — related to being imprisoned and tortured on Tantiss.

His hand tremors impact his sharpshooting abilities during the Tantiss escape in 3.03, during the Lau shootout in 3.04 and during the confrontation with the Ice Wyrm in 3.05. However, he and his allies end up "winning the day" in all three episodes.

(His hand tremors don't seem to be a factor during the Bad Batch's showdown with Asajj Ventress in 3.09. Even if Crosshair had been at 100% against her, I doubt he would've done anything.)

It isn't until 3.07 that Crosshair's hand tremors have lasting negative consequences. As a result of not killing CX-2 during their first shootout in the spire, his group is endangered, Nemec dies and Crosshair nearly dies too.

However, the group manages to escape Teth, and I'd argue that everything in 3.11 probably would've played out the same regardless because Hemlock would’ve sent a different CX operative to Pabu instead. (Although I realize the characters don't know that.)

Crosshair's hand tremors persist through the rest of the series, seemingly getting worse as CF99 prepare to infiltrate Tantiss, until CX-2 cuts it off during the hangar fight in 3.15.

Now, let's analyze a few options for how this could've played out. Again, we're just looking at each one on paper, not in execution.

Option A: The Version We Got

Let's call the canon version Option A.

In this version, Crosshair has tremors in his right hand throughout Season 3, and the only real negative consequence is that CX-2 is alive post-3.07.

In 3.11, Crosshair misses the shot to track Omega to Tantiss. However, it's not because of his hand tremors. It's because of the timing. He was about to shoot when stormtroopers found him on the Sea Wall, and by the time he took the shot — which, why was he running anyway? — it was too late. The ship pulled away at the last second and the tracker fell in the water.

Skipping ahead to 3.15, Crosshair and his brothers are infiltrating Tantiss to rescue Omega and the other prisoners.

There's a mounting sense of dread in the hangar fight: the CX operatives show up; Hunter is knocked unconscious; and Wrecker is attacked. As the dark climax/conclusion for the hangar fight and as the payoff to their one-sided rivalry, CX-2 decides to cut off Crosshair's shooting hand.

The entire hangar fight, but especially this moment of CX-2 attacking Crosshair and preparing to cut off his hand, is probably the darkest moment in the entire finale. This is underscored by the next two scenes: In a moment of morbid humor/dramatic irony, Omega notes that the blaster fire is over and leads the other kids to the hangar; and then Echo sees his defeated brothers being carted away to Hemlock's lab.

Crosshair's amputation then adds tension to the final confrontation with Hemlock, as now he's down a hand in general and his dominant hand at that.

So, let's look at the pros and cons of Option A (the version we got):

PROS: Payoff to the one-sided rivalry with CX-2; a dark conclusion to the hangar fight; additional tension in the final confrontation with Hemlock; playing into Star Wars tropes and drawing parallels between Crosshair and other characters who've lost hands/limbs, namely Anakin Skywalker

(EDIT: This ScreenRant article also argues that Crosshair losing his hand severs his connection to Tantiss and "marks a turning point toward redemption and a brighter future." So, make of that what you will.)

CONS: Admittedly this is being reductive, but Option A could feel like the amputation essentially "solves" Crosshair's hand tremors and/or PTSD, which is definitely not how it works. It could also be a very careless way to tackle such a heavy subject matter, especially for those who suffer from PTSD and see themselves in Crosshair. (As I'll talk about more in a second, this is something YouTuber SheevTalks discussed in his TBB Season 3 review.)

Option B: Crosshair Keeps His Hand in the Finale

This is the version that I saw YouTuber SheevTalks and some other folks on social media champion. (Note: feel free to watch his TBB Season 3 review, but just know that I DO NOT agree with all of his takes about the season or the show in general.)

Essentially, everything with Crosshair's hand tremors plays out the same way up until 3.11. In this version, he misses the shot to track Omega's ship because of the hand tremors, not because of the timing.

This would add greater tension in the episodes leading up to the finale, because failing to track CX-2's ship would be an immediate and direct consequence of his hand tremors. With the exception of CX-2 surviving 3.07, we haven't had anything like this in Season 3.

It would also directly contribute to Crosshair feeling that he failed Omega (and his brothers) because of his hand tremors and add to his insecurity that he's not the capable sharpshooter he used to be anymore.

This version would have him keep his hand through the finale. That way, in the final confrontation with Hemlock, he has to battle against his hand tremors and self-doubt to save Omega. But, unlike in 3.11, this time he would be doing it with his family's physical and emotional support.

As SheevTalks argues, there are a lot of positives to this version:

PROS: a greater narrative through line and payoff for Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors throughout Season 3; a greater emphasis on the importance of family, love and community in addressing mental health needs; Crosshair gets to keep his hand!

However, under Option B, there would also be some drawbacks and several things that would need to be addressed:

CONS: Without CX-2 cutting off Crosshair's hand in the hangar fight, we'd need some equally high-stakes conclusion AND have some kind of payoff for CX-2's rivalry with Crosshair.

Crosshair needs to sustain some kind of injury in the fight. It'd need to be 1) survivable 2) as severe and dark as losing his dominant hand and 3) add to the tension during the final confrontation with Hemlock.

CX-2 couldn't just knock Crosshair out, because then Crosshair would essentially be in the same physical state post-hangar fight as he would be pre-hangar fight. Yes, there would be additional tension in the confrontation with Hemlock because he'd have to overcome his hand tremors, but we still need some other way to conclude the hangar fight.

I've wracked my brain trying to think of ideas, and I can't come up with anything that would be as dark but survivable as getting his hand cut off — as terrible as that sounds.

I mean Wrecker gets shot in the leg later in the finale and Echo gets stabbed in the back/shoulder, and neither wound is ever addressed again. So, we'd need something much worse than either of those, but still survivable.

Plus, as I've discussed before, CX-2 is a petty bitch who definitely had a grudge against Crosshair. Cutting off his shooting hand kind of makes sense in a dark and twisted way.

One more con I'll mention is that, being reductive again, people could argue that Crosshair overcoming his PTSD/hand tremors through "the power of love" or "the power of friendship" might be cliché. But, as I'll talk about more in a bit, I don't really have a problem with that.

*****

Now, looking at Options A and B, neither is perfect. Both of them have problems, even just on paper.

So, I wonder: is there a way we can combine the two so we have the best of both worlds?

Allow me to introduce:

Option C: Crosshair Has Tremors in Both Hands

In this version, we'd set up very early in Season 3 that Crosshair has tremors in BOTH hands. Maybe his tremors are more severe in his right hand, because he uses it more; or maybe because it's his dominant hand, it's more noticeable. It doesn't really matter.

Pretty much everything in Season 3 would happen the same way, up until 3.11, when — just like Option B — Crosshair misses the shot on Pabu because of his hand tremors not because of the timing.

Then, in the 3.15 hangar fight, CX-2 still cuts off his right hand so we have payoff for their one-sided rivalry and have our dark, high-stakes conclusion to the hangar fight.

So, by the time we get to the final confrontation with Hemlock, we have double the tension because Crosshair is missing his dominant hand AND he has tremors in his left hand too.

(Side note: Because S3 canon makes it clear that Crosshair's tremors are ONLY in his right hand, I wondered why he didn't start shooting his pistol leftie as a way to compensate. As we see in 3.15, his aim was fine, and we know he can shoot leftie pretty well from S1-2.)

Option C would also make it clear to the audience that Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors are not "solved" simply because he got his hand cut off, which would be a problem with Option A.

So, under this scenario, we combine most of the pros for both Options A and B:

PROS: Payoff to the one-sided rivalry with CX-2; a dark climax for the hangar fight; additional tension to the final confrontation with Hemlock; playing into Star Wars tropes and drawing parallels between Crosshair and other characters who've lost hands/limbs, namely Anakin Skywalker; a greater narrative through line and payoff for Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors throughout Season 3; a greater emphasis on the importance of family, love and community in addressing mental health needs

CONS:

Under Option C, I really can't think of any new downsides.

The only one I can see is people complaining that Crosshair overcoming his PTSD/hand tremors through the "power of love" is cliche. But, as I said, I don't have a problem with that.

If we're going to be reductive about PTSD and its symptoms — with hand tremors being only one of many possible symptoms — I would much rather be reductive in a positive way. He's able to briefly overcome his hand tremors in a moment of need because he has his family's physical and emotional support. That's a far cry from "His PTSD/hand tremors are now solved!"

(EDIT: You can make the case that this also happened in the canon version. While I agree that Crosshair only made that shot in 3.15 bc he had his family’s support, I still don’t think the resolution to his PTSD/hand tremors plot line was well-executed.)

As I said I'm not an authority in mental health, but what I do know is that feeling mentally and emotionally supported, having a group of family and/or friends you can trust and confide in, and generally just having a sense of community are major factors to improving one's mental health.

Throughout Season 3, we see Crosshair wanting to deal with his hand tremors (and likely his PTSD in general) by himself. But, his family help him address it and begin the healing process.

Hunter to Omega in 3.08: See if you can convince (Crosshair) to get his hand looked at. Ignoring it won't make the problem go away. Omega to Crosshair in 3.08: Just because there's nothing AZI can do, doesn't mean your hand can't get better. Maybe you're the one who has to fix it. Omega later in 3.08: It's meditation. It'll help you heal. Not just your hand, but your mind too.

So, yeah, if we're going to be reductive about something as heavy and complex as PTSD and mental health in general, I would much rather emphasize "the power of love/friendship/family" than whatever the alternative is. Even if it's cliché.

Honestly, I think Option C would've been the best option of the three I've discussed. There are a few other possibilities I've considered — like what if CX-2 knew about Crosshair's hand tremors from their time together on Tantiss and CX-2 cut off his left hand in the hangar fight??? — but I think we'd ultimately end up covering a lot of the same ground.

However, these are all my opinions. I'm interested to hear everyone's take on this. Feel free to comment/reblog with your thoughts.

[roosterbruiser]

idk if you’re still taking requests, but i would love somethin about hangman and his wifey getting caught by their teenage kid in the middle of sex and then getting absolutely grilled about it later because we all know they have jake’s sense of humor

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

you're both smarter than this. Really, you are. You both know better than to get busy in the kitchen on a Sunday morning.

but in your slight defense...your husband is Jake fucking Seresin. Not only that, but his beard is starting to get delicious gray hairs and he's letting it grow out just enough to make the delicate skin of your thighs clench.

plus, your son usually doesn't wake up early. he would wake up at noon if you let him.

so, against your better judgement, you let your husband bend you over the nice marble countertops you picked out a few years ago.

it's very romantic for a solid ten minutes. drenched in the early light of the morning, the scene is actually quite peaceful. the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, your husband is whispering your name like a goddamn prayer as he brings his hips against yours fluidly, and there's an old Carole King record spinning lazily in the living room.

you're so lost in each other, gasping quietly and muttering your affection for each other as he buries himself inside you just right, that you don't hear your son's thunderous steps down the stairs or when he calls out for you guys.

no, no...it isn't until your son genuinely screeches that the two of you look up and catch those wide green eyes filled with absolutely terror.

then of course it's you and Jake scrambling to get decent, trying hard to not traumatize your son even further, both of you blushing and stuttering excuses.

and then it's you and Jake looking at your son as he goes through all five stages of grief in mere minutes.

it may be early in the morning, but he is sure as Hell wide awake now.

"family meeting. now," your son says with all the authority of a parental figure, pointing to the living room.

and for some reason, you and Jake blindly follow him in there and take a seat on the sofa. you two have never been caught by your son--you feel a little out of your element.

you and Jake sit at opposite ends of the couch like awkward teenagers caught by their parents. your son paces before the two of you, hands clasped behind his back. for a fifteen-year-old boy, he could actually come across as much older. he was broad and tall like your husband, with an identical wit.

"what am I going to do with the two of you?" your son mutters disappointedly.

"we were just--!"

your son cuts you off with one sweeping motion of his hand, holding his palm up to you and turning his cheek. your cheeks grow red.

"oh, I know what you were just doing," he says. "don't worry, I won't forget it. neither will the therapist you're gonna pay for."

you purse your lips. Jake is shaking his head softly.

your son resumes his painting.

"and, really, I hate that I even have to say this, but--were you two being...safe?"

Jake breaks out in laughter and you gasp, furrowing your brows at your son who stares back at you incredulously.

"August Seresin," you reprimand, tutting.

he throws his arms up defensively.

"what?! it's a valid question to ask! you really want another me running around here? yeah, no thanks!"

that's when you finally break down laughing, too. you can't help it. it's an unfortunate situation, one you can honestly say has been one of your most embarrassing moments. but the three of you laughing about it makes the knot in your throat lessen.

"well, that oughta teach you to knock," Jake says with a smirk.

August glares at him.

"it's the kitchen! what, am I gonna have to knock before entering every room in the house?"

"well, unless you want a repeat of this morning, then yes," Jake sighs with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

your son is turning green.

"is there any safe space in this house? my bedroom?" your son looks near tears at this point.

your husband is only teasing--you know this. but August sure doesn't. you're fairly certain August is about to crumble to the floor.

"is nothing sacred?!"

"just your mama's smokin' hot bod--!"

"NO!" August firmly presses his palms over his ears and shakes his head. "I CAN'T COME BACK FROM THAT!"

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

[ardentprose]

Candlelight Candor

A/N: This is the first public one shot I've written in a very long time so bear with me as I find my footing again.

Type: just sweet and simple fluff; Foggy Nelson x reader

Length: 4.8k~ | 20 min

Warnings: cursing; minor suggestive thoughts; fem!reader

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.

Summary: the worst storm of the decade, an unreliable old building, and being alone with your crush, Foggy Nelson

Hell hath no fury like a New York Nor’easter. It didn’t matter whether you had grown accustomed to the brutal winters in the city that never sleeps, because each summer lulled you into a false sense of serenity before winter struck again, the sky darkened, and ten inches of snow were threatening to bury the streets.

Any sane person would be hunkered down in their home, buried under an appropriate amount of blankets, and soundly sleeping away the precious hours gifted by the closing of the workplace.

Any sane person not in love, that is.

When you got the call that Karen was trapped north of the city, as the town she was investigating was hit with the storm first, you were tempted to hang up and go back to sleep. But how could you say no to:

“Good morning, sunshine!”

It took an embarrassingly small amount of convincing for Foggy Nelson to coax you from your haven and come to his law firm to lend an extra hand in the last day leading up to a case. The enigmatic lawyer had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

As you tugged on your heavy duty winter coat and forced your triple socked feet into your boots, you dearly wanted to curse the man for taking advantage of your infatuation. Of course, in his mind, he thought you were just a dedicated friend, and while that may be true, it would be more honest to say you were at his beck and call because you were in love with him.

Consequently, you find yourself hunched over a small desk in a small law firm with poor heating, hoping the feeling in your fingers returns.

And that was before the lights went out.

Precarious flames flicker among documents scattered across whatever surface area could be spared. Careful of the two candles flanking your papers - one cinnamon spice and another the supposed ‘scent of rain’ - you hunch lower and squint, trying to make connections between the paragraphs of legal precedents and other such jargon in the wavering light.

You don’t know how much longer you can strain your neck, scrounging every line of text for a loophole or mistype that will get this case thrown out. The ache in your neck grows insistent until you are forced to lift your head and roll your shoulders to appease the pain for a moment. Your eyes, sore from reading in dim light, fall on the lawyer across from you, taking in the welcome sight of him compared to dull printed texts.

Albeit, Foggy sits across from you in a similar position, muttering from down-turned lips as frustration pinches his expression. Occasionally, he heaves a sigh or grunt through clenched teeth as he hits another dead end. Even still, you allow yourself a small smile at how the orange flames cast warmth on his blond locks, causing them to shimmer like spun gold between the shadows.

A prick of alertness wakes you from your dreamy gaze and casting your eyes around you for the sixth sense of being watched, you find the other partner of the firm, Matt Murdock, smiling in your direction as if he could see you.

Your smile falls immediately, though the endeavor is fruitless as your remaining blush gives you away. Despite not having vision, you knew Matt caught you making heart eyes again at your ‘strictly professional legal friend’. It wasn’t the first time Matt sent you an impish smirk or raised his brows in question at your obvious pining. Especially when you laughed too loudly at Foggy’s quips. But what about it? You liked a sense of humor in a man and Foggy Nelson was a comedian in your enamored eyes.

The maddening thing was Matt doesn’t even pause his reading, skirting over lines of Braille with the same urgency as Foggy muttering out paragraphs of legalities.

You roll your eyes and Matt’s grin widens, but you choose to ignore him, checking your wrist watch for the time.

Your glance never makes it to your wrist, but diverges instead to the window when a sudden bang knocks the glass within it’s frame. The forceful wind rattles the glass with vengeance until it settles into an ominous vibrato. It wasn’t the first time that hour, but the three of you jump in your seats all the same.

“For Pete’s sake, this case better be able to fix that goddamn window.” Foggy curses, rubbing a palm over his heart from the abrupt break in silence.

“We have to win the case in the first place.” You lament, heaving a sigh to regain a normal heart rate.   

“We have less than an hour to find a reasonable cause to dismiss this case. But I’m pretty sure I’m reading algebra right now for all the good these candles are doing.”    Foggy groans, tussling his hair into a visible display of his perturbation. Your eyes follow the motion, happy to see something other than poorly lit paper stimulate your vision, though you sympathize with his annoyance.

“Justice never sleeps.” You quip and Foggy matches your wry smile.

“Of course the courthouse is open.” Foggy continues, flipping over another page. “Hell has frozen over but did the courthouse care? Did they reschedule? Of course not! Why indulge the safety of their tax-paying citizens when they could freeze them to death instead?”

“Whoa there, Foggy, is that the hangover talking or just you?” Matt teases, his fingers hesitating over some lines as conversation picks up.

“If anyone is hungover it’s you and your stupid smile that somehow thinks it’s appropriate to make an appearance right now.”

“I’m not the one who suggested shots last night.”

“I’m not the one who drank them all.”

“Hey, I’ve been quiet and well-behaved this entire time.”

“Guys…twenty minutes…” You interrupt, your own sense of justice dwindling by the hour.

You were more than accustomed to the bickering between the two law firm partners. Despite not being a lawyer yourself, your paralegal abilities were usually called into action since being acquainted with Nelson and Murdock over a previous case. You didn’t even work for them, yet you found yourself here more often than your own office. You also found yourself playing referee alongside legal assistance. At this point, you had helped Foggy and Matt win so many cases and stay friends while doing so, that you were an honorary member of the firm.

Foggy flips a page before him, chin resting on his fist. “I say we call the courthouse and tell them we were trapped inside. Couldn’t open the front door cause of all the…”

He squints.

His eyes go wide.

“Fuck! I found the damned thing!”

A groan of relief resounds from Matt and he throws himself back into his swivel chair, spinning to the side slightly. You break into a smile, watching the candlelight twinkle in Foggy’s eyes with his newfound ecstasy.

“Will it help win the case?” You ask, voice soft if only because of your overwhelming affection.

“This piece of evidence - or should I say lack thereof, will get this case thrown out into the nearest dumpster!” Foggy exclaims, meeting your eyes with his own mirth. Your smile grows larger at this revelation.

Matt tilts his head and once more you feel that devil grin, but you refuse to meet his invisible gaze. However, your up-tick in heart rate betrays your fear of a much bigger revelation being exposed by the brunet lawyer.

Matt seems to spare you from your fears, speaking instead of the case at hand.

“Foggy, I don’t know what we’d do without you. I don’t know how I missed such an obvious detail right in front of me.”

As he stands up, Matt compiles his own version of documents into his briefcase.

“What an oversight on my part.”

He grins expectantly.

You throw your head back and groan, then lift your head in order to glare at Matt.

“That’s the last one, Murdock! You’ve hit your ‘blind’ joke quota for today.”

Matt pouts, jerking on his winter pea coat.

“It’s my law firm, I can make as many jokes as I want. Who am I offending?”

“It’s our law firm, buddy.” Foggy comes to your defense. “And your jokes are in poor taste only because they’re not funny.”

“Hey,” Matt lifts the strap over his shoulder and slides out from behind his desk. “I’m funny.”

“Funny-looking.” You tease. Foggy snorts and points the tip of his pen at you in approval. You bite your lip to keep your grin from spreading into ‘infatuated’ lengths.

“Now, I can’t help that,” Matt gestures to the glasses in his hand before slipping them onto his nose, “given, you know, that I’m-“

“No more!” You point your finger at Matt in warning.

“Alright, jeez. Tough crowd.” Matt grins, still clearly proud of his sense of corny humor.

Before he makes his way to the door, he turns partway to explain his departure.

“I’ll head out first to meet the client early. It’s gonna be hell catching a cab in this storm. Plus the traffic will be worse…you get it.” Matt sighs and snatches his cane from where it rests beside the entryway. He lifts it as a form of dismissal.

“Good idea. I’ll revise our argument first then head over. It shouldn’t take more than a few quick amendments.” Foggy says.

Matt nods and turns to leave.

You turn back to clean up your work, but your head snaps up when you hear Matt fall against the door.

“Are you okay?” You blurt as Matt pushes himself upright on the door.

“I misjudged the space between myself and the door.” He chuckles. “Can’t see anything with the lights out.”

“Leave.”

You turn your back on Matt and his snickering.

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” You say once he’s gone and Foggy rolls his eyes in similar exasperation.

“I’ve learned to stop questioning my life choices when it comes to Matt.”

You laugh, humming in agreement. You lift your gaze to hand Foggy the collected papers across the desk and find his eyes already on you.

Before you can contemplate why his eyes take their time traveling down your face to your outstretched hand, the his easy smile lowers into contemplation once he accepts the papers. He licks his lips and begins scribbling down notes with fervor. Now that the essential information has been found, you’re left with nothing else to do but leave it in the capable hands of the brilliant lawyer before you.

Before you realize it, you’re in a candlelight-induced trance, watching Foggy’s eagle sharp gaze flit back and forth. A small, petty part of you wishes his eyes held the same concentration on you instead of the paperwork. You knew from experience how nice it was to have Foggy’s attention on you.

Meeting Foggy Nelson was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a rainstorm. He had come into your life with undeniable presence and charm, which mostly stemmed from how Foggy was unapologetically himself in all contexts. He didn’t put on the airs of the egotistical disposition that many lawyers were known to have.

That’s not to say he didn’t speak up whenever he found himself in an immoral situation,  but more often than not, Foggy reserved his speeches for retelling the repertoire of stories he loved to share with those who spared him an ear. You, always a listener at heart, and therefore his dedicated audience, were usually in hysterics by the end of his theatrics.

Foggy never just told a story. No, he incorporated gestures, voices and facial expressions that brought the characters - real or not - to life. Karen and Matt had heard every story ten times over, but being the newest addition to the friend group, you took in every detail as if there was going to be an exam.

It was his larger-than-life personality that drew you in, but it was his quiet observations that captivated you. Foggy never used his social prowess to embarrass others - Karen and Matt excluded - only ever making himself the butt of jokes. If he teased you, it was only to tease you out of your shell. His questions were genuine and his gaze, reading your body language and expressions, hung on to every answer you offered him.

The first real conversation you had with him, he asked you about your background.

“So what gods - sorry, Matt, God - above orchestrated for you to be doomed with us as friends?” He asked, curiosity making his sincerity clear.

You told him your abridged life story - including the small role you felt you played, despite it being your own life. Foggy’s smile had waned into a wrinkled line and when you finished he looked at you as if you had just admitted to being from another planet.

“You are the sweetest person I know, with a beautiful heart, and I don’t think you know it. But the rest of us sure do.” His eyes sought yours long enough to ensure you believed his sincerity, then he quickly moved on to throw a jibe at Matt,, and the conversation returned it’s levity. You, however, were left reeling from his compliment.

And absolutely in love.

Doomed, more like. You muse, halting the trip down memory lane before you fell down the well-trodden path of self-doubt and hatred. You have been around long enough to hear stories of the women Foggy had dated, slept with, or fantasized about being with. You didn’t think you made the cut. You had no reason to. Foggy was an extraordinary friend but that didn’t qualify you to wish he did more than friendly things to you.

You focus back in where your eyes had taken the opportunity to stare at Foggy fingering the edges of documents while twirling a pen in his other hand. He settles the pen between his soft, pink lips, tapping it before he bites the cap, completed focused on the phrasing of his task.

A hair falls between his eyes, causing him to wrinkle his nose into an unbearably cute expression.

You send the chair stumbling backwards when you stand, and that focused gaze flies to you.

“I…um..I am…What time is it? I think we should start to head over.” You attempt to clarify.

Foggy removes the writing utensil from his teeth as his eyes analyze your abrupt movement. You feel exposed the longer he stares and start to grow nervous he somehow could hear your wayward thoughts about the dexterity of his fingers.

“Yeah…good call.” Foggy clears his throat. He stands up to gather his things and you step forward to help him.

Handing him a file, his fingers brush the back of your knuckles and your eyes flutter in response.

Cheeks warm despite the cold, you turn from Foggy and set about blowing out all the candles until you’re both left in the dark.

You walk to the door and rest your hand on the doorknob. Turning your wrist, you pull the doorknob out the socket.

Wait.

What?

You glance down at your hand.

“What the hell?” A sense of dread fills you.

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asks, immediately reacting to your alarmed tone.

When you don’t respond, he navigates his way around the desk and chairs in the dark to come to your aid.

You turn back to the door and stare at the vacant hole with consternation until you feel Foggy’s chest brush your left shoulder.

“What happened?”

The weight of the doorknob feels condemning in your palm. Foggy leans down, squinting through the dark. His cheek is inches from yours, his height enshrouding you as he peers at your hands, and any other time your heart would be beating out of your chest.

Well, it was, but for the wrong reason.

“Oh.” He says. “Shit.”

“I have no idea!” You insist before he can even turn his grave expression on you and ask. “I guess the other side of it came loose and just fell off.”

“Well. That’s just fantastic.” Foggy hooks his index in the hole and tugs hard. The door jiggles with his attempts but holds fast.

“So we’re locked in our own office?” you conclude.

Foggy growls in frustration. He stalks back over to the desk, muttering curses to himself.

“Perfect. Just perfect. Of course…worst day of my life…”

Foggy pats his waist down, pulls out his phone, and then hits the first speed dial button.

“Hey, Matt.” He says sharply. “…Yeah, the fucking handle fell off the door.”   

Morose, you glance down at the knob still in your palm.

“No, I don’t- Y/N turned the knob and it just fell off!….Yeah, I already did that.”

Foggy sighs, hums in affirmation before his shoulders drop.

“You sure? Yeah…ugh…fine yeah, okay.”

Matt must have asked for the new evidence Foggy was supposed to bring, you assume, as Foggy proceeds to explain the needed information and confirm Matt understood it all.

“Good luck, buddy. Don’t lose.”

Foggy hangs up, ceasing his pacing. His hand runs through his now tangled locks then drops to his waist. He looks at you with resignation.

“Matt says he can handle the case by himself. It’s not a full blown hearing so…he’ll come back as soon as he can. The case has already started so he doesn’t have time to run back here.”

“Oh.” The prickling sensation of tears burns behind your eyes. The last thing you want is to ever be the cause of Foggy’s stress. Hell, you spend most of your time trying to be as valuable to him as possible.

Foggy searches around him until he finds matches. He lights the nearest candle and then sits down behind his desk.

He frowns once he sees you haven’t moved from your tense stance near the entrance.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flit to his face and find Foggy smiling at you with his recognizable optimism. The kind of smile that feels like he’s sharing a secret joke with you. He drags your previous chair around the desk, beside his.

“C’mere and sit back down. We have at least three hours before Matt returns.”

You hum in assent, still clutching the doorknob as you make your way over.

Coming around the desk, Foggy’s hand darts out, shielding your hip from the sharp corner when you almost don’t clear it.

You jump at his fingers against your waist. Foggy jerks back just as quickly, his grimace apparent.

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to run into it. That corner in particular bruises like a bitch.”

You laugh, hoping the airy chuckle doesn’t betray how his fingertips ignited a reaction far from displeased within you.

“I appreciate it. And I assume you’re speaking from experience?” You sit down. Your knee brushes his, tingling with proximity. You’ve never had a reason to sit so close to Foggy before, even in the booths at bars, and without the light, you sense more than see his presence within your personal space.

Foggy snorts. “Yeah, of course. Matt does it all the time.”

“Oh, so you have practice holding his waist too?” You don’t know where this brazen energy arises from, but you blame it on the intimacy of being secluded in the office with Foggy and your only light source being a small flame that smells of cinnamon.

Foggy’s lips split before curving into a smirk. He narrows his eyes.

“Are you accusing me of making a grab at you?”

You shake your head frantically.    “No! Sorry, that was stupid. I-“

Foggy laughs, waving your apology away.

“I would hope you think more highly of me to at least buy you dinner first.” He reasons, pursing his mouth into an easy smile.

You bite your lip, eyes widening at the suggestion. Was he serious? Or were you letting your feelings cloud an obvious joke?

“Of course I think highly of you, Foggy.” You say, settling into the chair. You set the doorknob on the desk. Your brow furrows as it reminds you of how Foggy was trapped here with you instead of at the courthouse winning the case he’s worked so hard on.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Seriously, don’t feel bad about the door. This whole shitty place is falling apart.” Foggy gestures vaguely around him. Foggy must have mistaken your silence as guilt. He’s correct in assuming so, but why did he have to read you so damn well?

“No, I know…I just feel bad for you because you deserve to be in that courtroom.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. Matt’s got it handled. I’m sure they prefer the handsome lawyer down there anyways. Case will go in our favor that way.” He chuckles.

“Handsome?” You frown, not getting the punchline.

His eyes flicker over your face as if to gage how serious you are being.

Foggy shrugs. “Out of the two of us, Matt’s the better lawyer, both in the legal department and looks department.” His half-hearted laugh fails to win you over.

“That isn’t- that’s not true.” You stumble over your words, because it would be foolish to deny the attention the brunet lawyer garners on a consistent basis. However, you weren’t about to accept Matt’s good looks at the cost of denying Foggy’s attractive features either.

Foggy snorts. He shakes his head, hair brushing his shoulders as he does so and you’re overcome with an intense need to make him realize just how important he is to everyone. To you.

“Foggy, you’re incredible to watch in action.”

Foggy’s frown is near comical with his exaggerated pout. You lean in, determined to convince him.

“Foggy, you’re a hell of a good lawyer, too. If Matt is so talented then he wouldn’t partner with someone who wasn’t on his level. The two of you have your own firm. Matt’s not your boss. He’s your equal. That goes for the ‘looks’ department as well. You’re an attractive, generous, compassionate lawyer and it’s a privilege to work with you.”

Foggy’s expression is unreadable as he listens to you rant. His eyes search your face, flitting back and forth with thoughts known only to him. His brow falters slightly and you fear he’s uncomfortable with your impromptu speech.

But eventually, that full mouth of his turns upwards.

Unfortunately, the smile he wears accompanies a glimmer in his eye that makes you lean back into your own chair.

Foggy follows you, invading your breathing space with the heady scent of his aftershave and a hint of shampoo akin to vanilla.   

“What other traits do I possess?”

All at once you realize how revealing your compliments are. Blooming crimson, you attempt a verbal retreat that Foggy has no intention of allowing.

“Oh, um…I didn’t-I just mean…”

“C’mon, tell me! Attorney client privilege.” Foggy winks, his grin upheld and only growing bolder as he rests his cheek on his fist, full attention on you now.

Well, you did wish for that.

“Technically, to be your client I would need to pay you first.” You throw out, if only to prolong the inevitable corner of confession he was backing you into.

“Aha! So you do learn a thing or two around this office. I’ll only charge you five bucks.” Foggy retorts easily enough.

“I don’t have money on me, but since you’ve been known to accept fruit baskets, would you accept other forms of payment?”

“What do you have in mind?” Foggy’s grin is downright devious.

Your eyes widen as you effectively have backed yourself into the corner you were trying to avoid.

A nervous laugh bubbles from your racing heart as you shake your head, waving your hand too for good measure.

“Nothing! I’m kidding, Foggy.”

“Blood money? Was it blood money?”

“No?…No, it was a stupid joke.”

“Tell me.” Foggy sits up, his demeanor becoming serious.

“Please?” He whispers.

You chew on your lower lip, trying to swallow down the thundering of your heart as silence permeates the dimly lit atmosphere between you two.

Maybe it’s the influence of the warm fire painting Foggy’s gaze in such a soft, accepting light, as if he already knows what you’re thinking - or is even feeling it too. Maybe it’s the months of holding back the truth from someone you would tell anything to in a heartbeat. Maybe it’s the hope that ultimately outweighs the anxiety that causes you to admit it.

No longer do the candles, blizzard, or darkness feel like a hindrance. Now they feel intimate, cozy, and warm.

Romantic.

“I was gonna say…something super corny like, “just my undying affection.” You feel like an idiot, grimacing with the confession.

Your eyes dare to check Foggy’s expression, knowing he’s probably gonna reel back in aversion.

Instead, Foggy scoffs, shaking his head slightly. “You’re affection? Jeez, now that’s nowhere near corny.” He purses his lips and his hair brushes his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Earning your attention, let alone your affection - damn, I would win a hundred cases for you, guaranteed!”

You want to blame the playful words as an excuse to ignore the sincerity in his tone, but your body reacts before you can, heart leaping with a thrill of joy and your lips begging for more.

“Guaranteed?”

“Nothing drives a man like his unwavering passion for the woman he adores.”

You must look crazed, in the throes of shock as your brain tries to process the meaning behind his words. Foggy adores you? Really?

Your mouth continues to take the lead.

“You mean that?”

Foggy lifts his hand in the distance between you, which is scarce, and hesitates a second before placing his warm hand atop both your hands picking at each other’s fingertips. The weight of his palm and the comfort of his grip squeezes your fretting hands still. You release a soft exhale.

“Y/n, I’ve never been more serious.    I’ve adored every detail of yours since you graced my office.”

You don’t know what to say, so you nod.

You keep nodding until it dawns that your feelings are reciprocated, perhaps more than you dared hope for.

And then you’re smiling, beaming, and still nodding, as Foggy brings the hand up from your grasp and cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb over in a silent hello before he presses his lips to your mouth.

You press in, feeling him wholly as mint overwhelms your senses. Your lips move with his, chin lifting as you chase his mouth and he meets you once more, applying pressure before he withdraws, and releases your bottom lip from his teeth.

You can’t see much in the dark anyways, but right now you can’t see a thing. Only spots that accompany the ringing in your ears. You might be light-headed too.

Your dazed silence breaks when Foggy’s whisper begins to escalate.

“Before I have a heart attack…tell me I didn’t screw this up. If I read it wrong and you were just joking-“

“No, no! It’s just…I can’t believe you like me back.” Your laugh is a soft exhale before a sharp intake of breath.

“This isn’t some ‘lights go out and we’re vulnerable in the dark confession.” Foggy says as he cups your face once more.

“I mean every word I say in the dark.” He kisses you again and you welcome his eager affection before he pulls back. You open your eyes just in time for the lights flicker on with a stumbling hum as the building regains power.

“And the light.” Foggy tacks on to his previous statement.

You snort, biting your lip in vain to stop your giddy smile.

“That was pretty fucking cool timing if you ask me.” He says, the same elated grin on his flushed visage.

“That was, I’ll admit.” You laugh. You run your tongue across your lips, savoring the taste of his kiss.

“I wish someone could have witnessed it.” Foggy continues to rave, basking in your growing smile of amusement.

“I did.”

Matt stands in the doorway with a wicked grin.

“Missing something?” He asks. Your eyes flit down to his hand.

The other side of the doorknob.

Matt waltzes over to the desk, grabs the doorknob, then returns to the entry and slides it back into place.

Your frown deepens when he unpockets a screw. Within ten seconds the door is fixed with a good rattle to test it out.

“Lucky thing the case got canceled. You guys would have been stuck in this room all night.” Matt says, passing you both on his way to his office. Presumably to start the next caseload.

Foggy breaks first, swiveling in his chair to jab a finger at Matt’s retreating back.

“You bastard!”

Matt spins around once he’s behind the door of his office. He gives ample time to leave his smirk on display as he closes the door in a slow, dramatic fashion until it clicks with finality.

And with it, a realization of his strange behavior today.

You gasp.

Matt never left the building.

[vioartemis]

Admiring from afar

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Just me trying a new concept, you'll have to read to know what it is 👀 a/n: I'm not dead, just had a strong writers block (which is still here), here's a little thing :)) Warnings: light angst (?) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

You were not supposed to meet, not supposed to ever talk to each other, let alone falling in love with each other. But here you were, seeing each other in secret, deeply in love.

You knew it was wrong. You knew you shouldn't feel that way, that it wasn't 'normal'. That's what everyone would say if they knew.

But you couldn't help it; she was so perfect.

Before meeting her, you had seen her a few times with her sister and her friends, and were already simping for her. She was so pretty, with her cute freckles and her big brown eyes...

You wanted to meet her, get to know her, give her a hug, knowing what she went through. You were tired of admiring from afar.

For a long time, you thought it wasn't possible; the barrier between you was too difficult to bypass.

Until one day you found something. Something that might work.

You were determined to try and succeed.

The first times you tried, you failed miserably. Something always ruined everything. After a couple of fail, you started to think you would never be able to actually meet her.

You decided to try one more time, just one more.

And this time, it worked. You were so nervous when her gaze met yours. And also a bit confused.

But the moment was magical. Like a dream.

You were getting along so well; way better than what you imagined. You had a lot in common, the same humor, and felt really comfortable with each other.

You both agreed you needed to meet again, as often as possible; You were already addicted to each other.

It had been months since you met now, or at least that's what it felt like. You couldn't wait for the night to come so you could see her again. She had become your world, your light.

You wished you could tell your friends and family about her; about how happy she made you. But they wouldn't understand. None of them would.

As soon as you saw her, she was running into your arms, before her soft lips met yours.

"I missed you so much..." she whispered once she had pulled away

"I missed you too... I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night..."

She shook her head at your apology.

"It's okay, don't apologize. We have plenty of time now"

She took your hand with one of these smiles that made you melt, and pulled you towards a blanket on the floor.

"I thought a picnic would be romantic... What do you think?"

"I love it, Tara. Thank you"

You didn't really know if you thanked her for the picnic, or just for being here, with you, and for all that she did for you.

After a while of eating, cuddling, and enjoying each other's company, you said:

"I want to stay here forever, with you..."

"Me too, Y/n... me too... But we both know we can't..."

"I know, I... I'm just... ... What if you find someone else...? Someone with who you can be all the time, someone that you wouldn't be forced to keep a secret, someone-"

"Hey hey...! Stop, please. I don't want anyone else, okay?"

"... what about Chad?"

She frowned, confused by your question.

"Chad? I don't care about him, you know it baby..."

You don't say anything to that, not sure you should tell her.

"Y/n, are you saying that Chad and I...?"

You looked away and nodded slightly, your stomach twisting at the thought.

She grabbed your face and made you look at her.

"It won't happen. Not after meeting you. You're the only one for me, I couldn't dream of someone better. You're perfect, you understand me, I understand you... We're meant to be, Y/n... I'm convinced we are"

"Even if we're from different worlds...?"

She nodded.

"Even if we are from different worlds"

She pulled you in for a soft, yet passionate kiss, whispering sweet nothings to you after pulling away.

Both of your watches suddenly rang, letting you know it's time to say goodbye.

"I don't want to go back, Tara..."

"Me neither, but we have to..."

She kissed you one more time.

"If you miss me, you know what to do... I'll do it too, because I always miss you" she chuckled slightly, trying to lighten up your mood

You cracked a little smile at her comment.

"I love you" you whispered in her ear as you hugged her, closing your eyes

"I love you too"

When you opened your eyes, your room was lightened by some sunrays filtering through your curtains.

You stayed still for a few minutes, laying in your bed, reviewing your meeting with Tara in your head. You couldn't hold back a few tears that rolled down your cheeks.

You already missed her...

You sat up on your bed and lifted your pillow to grab the sheet of paper hidden under it. You looked at it, reading the few lines written on it, before putting it in the drawer of your bedside table.

You would need it tonight too.

You took a moment to think about everything, about how you met Tara in the first place, especially.

The excitement when you saw her, the confusion as you noticed you were not where you were supposed to be, the shock as you understood what happened...

It did not go as you expected, that's for sure.

I mean... How could you have imagined that she would shift for you too?

[nikoisme]

Alright Achilles and Patroclus headcanons take 2:

-Patroclus is older than Achilles (this is canon but it's fine),, not by much, in my head it's about 2 years;

-They are the same height!

-Before Patroclus killed the boy over dice, they got into a fight and Patroclus ended up breaking his nose. It healed with a slight deformity and he has a bit of problems with breathing through his nose;

-I portray Achilles with amber/hazel-ish eyes,, but i'm so tempted to change them to blue purely because of this:

-Achilles and Patroclus got along immediately. You know how some kids in kindergarten are best friends and maybe swore a blood oath by the end of the first day? That's them.

-Chiron had to constantly keep them from getting into trouble and getting killed. They were really reckless as kids.

-Patroclus almost never gets sick. Even when he does, it's nothing serious. Achilles on the other hand? He's the first to catch a cold or any sickness. The moment it gets slightly colder he is sick;

-Achilles is an excellent swimmer and can hold his breath underwater longer than average;

-It's not that Achilles is afraid of Patroclus' dogs,, he just avoids them. Doesn't think much about them, but they kind of tolerate each other based on their shared love for Patroclus.

-Achilles and Patroclus kind of have this little.. grudge against each other since they were kids. It started with Achilles tripping Patroclus. Then Patroclus returned it by letting a branch hit Achilles (he didn't hold it for Achilles to pass,, he just let go of it and it smacked him in the face). And that whole "oh you'll fucking see for this" thing extended through adulthood;

-Patroclus' sense of humor I talked about here;

-Also he has a habit of boasting over someone he's killed and just cracking jokes as he kills them, and usually someone of the Achaeans will hear him and go "oh my gods" and just burst into laughter;

-He does that partially because Trojans will obviously be pissed off and rush forward,, but he just wants them to come closer so he can kill them;

-On that topic, Achilles doesn't really know how to joke. He doesn't understand most of the jokes, and frankly doesn't like them. He only understands Patroclus' humor and slowly learned his own as time went on. Also he is shit at recognizing tone of voice (that's why he is on complicated terms with odysseus. never knows if he is fucking with him or not).

-And my interpretation of their relationship here;

-Thetis and Patroclus never interacted much, but she is quite fond of him;

-While Patroclus gets along with pretty much everyone in camp, he isn't afraid to call out anyone's bullshit.

-For example; he gets along just fine with Odysseus (they often talk about dogs :D) but he is willing to get into an argument with him any time.

-On the other hand, Achilles and Odysseus get along great on some days, but on some days they can't stand each other's guts.

-You know how we talk about how Patroclus has to hold Achilles back when he gets mad? I stand by that. But whenever Patroclus gets mad, he has to be held back by several people (that usually being Achilles, Automedon and/or Phoenix). He needs to be given a lot of time to calm down.

-On that topic, Patroclus has so much rage stuffed inside of him. He just chooses to remain calm and collected and find a reasonable solution for things,, but as a result he is a ticking bomb just waiting to explode. He usually takes that rage out on the battlefield.

-Patroclus and Achilles aren't constantly next to each other in battle. They are always ready to rush in and help on other sides of the battlefield, then they get distracted and just fight their way through. But they always somehow spawn next to each other. One will turn around and see the other just fighting next to him out of nowhere.

-Achilles doesn't really mind blood (he literally spills it every day). But he kind of freaks out when he sees his own, whether it's a nose bleed or whatever. On the other hand Patroclus tends to his own wounds by himself like it's nothing.

-Now, they are both formidable warriors on their own. A Trojan soldier will see Achilles and while that's horrible on its own,, he can't help but think where is the other one??? And then he gets killed from behind by Patroclus. They like to ambush soldiers like that.

-Patroclus is the one who listens to Nestor's long stories. Listen, everyone at camp respects the man, but they always find a way to get Patroclus to do the listening instead of them. He takes one for the team.

-Also Achilles gets nosebleeds often.

-Patroclus and Menelaus were really good friends! And after Patroclus was killed, guilt was devouring Menelaus from the inside.

-Antilochus kept a very close eye on Achilles after Patroclus died. He is also one of the first/only people Achilles let into his life after Patroclus.

[dearweirdme]

Whoops I feel like I invited a bunch of nasties through my coworker ask 🫠

Hi anon!

😂... Oh, your summoning worked alright! I don't think you need three guesses to know who went and send me a long essay again while I was asleep.

Rest assured... they are not disappointed with you: You know I am not even disappointed at your anon for writing this but I am disappointed at you for posting this because at your age you should know better. At your age, you should know that none of these things that this obviously ignorant anon has written is how real relationships work and me mentioning your age isn’t me insulting you cuz it is a blessing to see 40 but after being alive for over 4 decades, it is kind of disappointing that you know little to nothing about life.

I guess a sense of humor isn't one of their personality traits. They proceeded going into detail why those takes are wrong 🙄.

Then they literally broke my mind! I did not want to post their ask (because jawn boring for the most part and also.. again trying to use my platform whilst being rude to me), but this just totally fried my brain... remember, this is a Jkkr talking!

It’s kind of funny to me that you are the one who is always yapping about the korean culture and what that means for queer people whenever anons on ur blog bring up certain moments which didn’t make sense with taekook. You talk about the the dangers queer people are in and how they feel a need to protect themselves and yada yada yada yet you think that these same people while being in public, in the midst of thousands of fans and cameras like at the Harry styles concert or Yoongi’s concert in korea, would openly display their affection towards each other by holding each other while singing romantic songs, sticking close to each other, wispering to each other and all. So are these queer people not afraid of how they may come across to the thousands of fans who are focused on them then? When people complained about that awkward hug that taekook shared on Jin’s discharge, didn’t you start with your long speech about the korean culture and queer people and how taekook had to be cautious because they knew they were being filmed? So they only had to be cautious then but then openly show their affection to each other by touching each other, hugging each other, whispering to each other while they are at crowded concerts with koreans? The same koreans? Rain, you are short sighted as hell. Besides, the way your anon describes the way they think Jk treated Jimin at that concert shows how ignorant they are because in the real world, people don’t feel the need to stick to their partners like that all the time and they definitely wouldn’t ignore their friends or coworkers just because their partner is there. That is a very childish way of looking at things and if you were honest with urself and applied the logic of how you think the korean culture affects how queer people in relationships behave with each other in public settings, then maybe, just maybe you would understand why Jk was all cozy with Tae at Harry Styles concert but it was Jimin whom he spent all his time with in private and maybe you would also see how your own words about queer people in korea go against taekook. Y’all must think this is some drama or something where those who are in love can’t keep their hands of each other IN PUBLIC. The way Jk behaves with Taehyung in public shows more than anything that those two don’t have anything to hide or would you say they can be that way in public but have to lie about not being with each other at certain moments because they have to hide their relationship?

Had this come from a neutral perspective and asking for my thoughts on this.. I'd been happy to explain (and it's honestly not that complicated), but imagine a Jkkr saying this to a Tkkr. A Jkkr who then later goes on to do what they always do...

I also don’t see you or any of your anons asking why during HS concert, Jimin and Jungkook “disappeared” together for almost 20 minutes.

Now who wants to take on bets as to whether they meant Jk and Jm were going to actually use the toilets... or -insert sexual behavior-...

So yeah... thanks for letting me rant again 😂. I'm not going to be posting Jkkrs for a while. Back to Tkk pics it is.

[cera-writes]

Hiiii~ and happy pride month!🥳

I heckin LOVE Kurt Wagner and anyone who talks about him, so naturally I've been enjoying reading your posts! I was wondering if I could ask for Kurt x trans-male Y/N headcanons? Just how easily he'd pick it up, how comforting he'd be through the transition, how he handles other people treating his SO in regards to them being trans, that kinda thing.

Thank you in advance, your work here is awesome, please keep fuelling my Nightcrawler obesession skskshsskshsk💕

A/N: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH DARLING! 💖Absolutely!! Kurt would be the ABSOLUTE best and most supportive partner <333

Kurt Wagner x Trans-Male Headcanons

Picking Up On It:

Kurt is a perceptive guy. He'll pick up on subtle shifts in your presentation or changes in how you talk about yourself. Maybe you mention a new name you're considering, or he notices you gravitating towards certain clothes. He'll likely come to you directly and ask if there's anything he can do to support you. He'd even buy you new outfits and surprise you with them as you transition.

Kurt values honesty and communication. If you're comfortable, you can have a heart-to-heart about your feelings. He'll listen intently without judgment and ask clarifying questions to fully understand.

Kurt will be your biggest cheerleader. He'll research alongside you, learning about terminology and the transition process. He'll be there for every step, big or small, celebrating victories and offering a shoulder to cry on during tough moments. He'd definitely comfort you with his tail wrapped around you protectively.

He understands that transition is a personal journey. He'll respect your pace and boundaries, using your preferred name and pronouns from the moment you ask because he is your biggest supporter.

Don't be surprised if Kurt starts subtly incorporating things that affirm your identity. Maybe he starts cooking meals you mentioned liking, or finds a cool new band you might enjoy. He wants to do everything for you because he utterly adores you.

Dealing With Others:

Kurt has zero tolerance for disrespect. If someone misgenders you or makes insensitive remarks, he'll be the first one to shut it down. He might use humor to deflect, or calmly but firmly correct them. Either way, he makes sure that you're okay first and foremost.

Kurt might take it upon himself to educate others in your circle about transgender identities. He'll explain things in a clear and non-confrontational way, helping them understand how to be supportive.

If you're facing challenges from unsupportive people, you won't have to face them alone. Kurt will stand with you, presenting a united front and advocating for you. He'll attend every pride march, hand in hand, and be your biggest ally. He's your biggest fan <3

Words of Affirmation:

Get ready for an influx of compliments! Kurt will tell you how handsome you look, how strong you are, and how proud he is of you for embracing your true self.

Maybe he comes up with a special nickname (In German) for you that reflects your newfound confidence and identity.

Don't be surprised if you find a handwritten note tucked away in your bag or left on the nightstand. Kurt might express his love and admiration for you in more traditional and romantic ways because he's a romantic at heart.

Physical Affection (After Discussing Comfort Levels):

He definitely has big spoon energy. Kurt is a natural cuddler and loves the feeling of holding you close. He'll be happy to be the big spoon, offering a sense of security and comfort. His tail would wrap around you protectively, instilling a sense of protectiveness and comfort for you.

Forehead kisses. Forehead kisses. Forehead kisses. Especially during moments of vulnerability or triumph, Kurt might express his affection through a sweet kiss on your forehead. He loves you so much!

Kurt is all about making you feel loved and secure. If physical touch isn't your primary love language, he'll find other ways to show his affection, like doing chores you dislike or running errands for you. he's there for you one hundred percent of the way.