#hello hey i'm alive

[jungkookverse]

[pnnzzlr]

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash with Jordan Greenwald on IG

[finns-kardemumma]

i would never use a scrub mommy to wash my dishes because women! aren't! dishwashers! anymore!

(6'7 feminist btw)

[boundaryfailure]

[the better reality | nms apollo & traveller]

At the center of the galaxy, you are left holding the cinderblock-heavy truth of the world you live in. The enormity of it all sits almost demurely in its place on your exosuit, that little red starseed and its cosmic significance.

Sixteen minutes. Always, sixteen.

Of course, Nada only hushes you when you try to speak about what you���ve seen. They stretch their palm outwards as you rush to inform them, sweeping away your words before they come. They are afraid — you know they’re afraid — to lose their haven to realization. Of course, despite everything, even though they have severed themselves from their people, they are still Korvax: they still fear the Atlas they reject so fiercely. You can’t bring yourself to shatter anxious Nada’s naivety.

You still find it in yourself to feel stung.

Still, though, they can see the anguish in the lines of your posture (Why won’t you listen? Why won’t you hear me? How could you leave me alone with this?), and they have never lost their kindness. Nada’s fingertips light gently on your shoulders, and when they draw you into an embrace, you return it twice as fiercely.

Polo squeezes your hand as you pass them.

“Nada fears, Traveller-Friend. Some things are best left unexplored.”

(TRAVELLER, the Atlas had said — had pleaded.)

You miss Apollo so terribly.

Sometimes you dream of a better reality: one where the world had yawned wide as you came out of the portal, and your friend was there to greet you.

Getting the details right can be tricky. You know what Apollo sounds like, sharp, sometimes guttural, mechanical and harsh at first blush. You know that standing beside them would suffuse you in subtle golden light, that it would play off the starsilk strands and fine leather of your suit. The details get sketchier and ruin the picture if you dwell too much, and so you try not to linger too much on any one point. Broad strokes.

They are bigger than you are, you remember from the tower transmissions; they are built sturdily, like industrial equipment, like a blunt force weapon. They get testy when you poke fun at it — “I don’t make fun of you for being soft, do I?” — and you know that this body is not necessarily theirs by choice. There had been grudges involved, and vengeance quests, and altogether you can understand why they choose to walk as a lone iteration entirely, free of the wistful togetherness of the Space Anomaly’s menagerie. Such tenderness doesn't suit them.

But Apollo could bludgeon you into an entirely new iteration, and Apollo chooses not to. That is how things go, in the reality where you break through to one another. The two of you cut a wonderful contrast walking worlds together. The gear you have chosen means that beside their simplicity, you are all tritium-hydraulic agility and solar-vitrified stealth, and they snipe at you over comms because they are made for steady distance and could never keep up with your gimmicks.

“Somehow Artemis was never half as much trouble as you are,” they tell you, with their strange blend of indifference and annoyance over-top a curious attachment.

“With Artemis, we really would have been unstoppable.” The thought slips out unbidden, and you pick at the enameling adorning your right pauldron as if to distract, or to mollify.

“… Yes,” Apollo says, a reply you don’t expect. Their tone is thoughtful, but not closed off, and you realize you’ve earned the rare right to their emotional input, such as it is. “We would have.”

In this reality, the pressing loneliness of all the world before you abates with your friend at your shoulder. Apollo is not necessarily talkative — in fact, without you there to prompt them, you think they might go days without a single flare of vocal activity — but their heavy tread at your heels and their ruthless haggling at trade stations compress the frightening vastness of it all into something uniquely enticing.

(The weight of the last sixteen minutes rests lighter on your shoulders, knowing that they, too, understand. They take the news of the galaxy’s infinite end steadily, a steel-stubborn levee refusing to succumb to the waves of despair that had submerged you before.)

(“Well, we all have to die sometime,” they had told you, rolling prism-studded shoulders. “And what time will be more interesting than this?”)

(They hear you, they listen, and they are not afraid.)

(In this other reality, they choose to do what no one else does: to accompany you. To understand.)

(And you know fully by now that those other iterations are just as real as you.)

(So just knowing that, you think, alone in your ship with your face to the stars — just knowing soothes the sting.)

Sometimes you dream of a better reality.

In it, all the world lies before you, and Apollo is at your back, and beneath the tint of your helmet, your eyes are wide and wonderstruck.

[pmatga]

recently remembered this post i made like three years ago (jesus. time progression) and i can't believe it's never occurred to me until now how spheria might feel abt it

[teethclawsmonsterjaws]

💖

[patternedlantern]

tuesday again……….. no problem……….. (picrew if ya wanna)

[manifestosimaginarios]

yes! scrolling trhough my instagram feed is mostly ads and people I don't know, I rarely see the accounts I actually follow, it gets all crowded and then I get overwhelmed. God, I hate it there.

Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.

The Diagnosis

In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience. 

Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content. 

To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.

Our Guiding Principles

To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.

Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Retain and grow our creator base.

Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.

Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up. 

We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.

Actions & Next Steps

Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.

Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.

Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.

The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.

Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant. 

Actions & Next Steps

Deliver great content each time the app is opened.

Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are. 

Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds. 

Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.

Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.

Actions & Next Steps

Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.

Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs. 

Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.

Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread. 

Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads. 

Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed. 

Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.

Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.  

Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.

The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.

It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.

Actions & Next Steps

Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it. 

Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.

Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.

Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.

Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.

Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.  

Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.  

Actions & Next Steps

Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.

Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.  

Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages. 

Test what the right daily push notification limit is. 

Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.

Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.

The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.

Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.

Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users. 

Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.

Conclusion

Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.

[lucretiaadventurezone]

TAZ Balance Dashboard Simulator

💪 bagnus-murnsides

↻ lactosewarrior5000 Follow

💪 bagnus-murnsides

happy rise and grind reclaimers wednesday monday

✨ you-know-from-tv Follow

its literally friday ?

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

HAPPY RISE AND GRIND RECLAIMERS WEDNESDAY MONDAY FRIDAY

👖 lactosewarrior5000 Follow

#the additions are KILLING ME #laugh rule #tumblr days of the week #scheduled

(2,358 notes)

📔 sheesh-creesh

[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

#bureau business #inoculated #txt

(0 notes)

🔎 ango-mcdango

↻ you-know-from-tv Follow

🌱 merlehighchurch1

give me that username lup. stop impersonating me

🌱 merlehighchurch Follow

no

(893 notes)

🍵 potion-master-69

CALLOUT FOR GARFIELD THE DEALS WARLOCK

so im not trying to start anything, but it has to be said. garfield has been collecting blood from various people and using it for nefarious purposes, as well as just kind of being a dick.

receipts under the readmore vv

Keep Reading

#callout #gore tw #lilian don’t look

(41 notes)

🔎 ango-mcdango

↻ lesbian-orc-lover Follow

👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow

Life is meaningless and nothing matters. Everything sucks and we should all just give in. Submit to the Hunger.

🌱 merlehighchurch1

this is exactly what ligma was saying a few years ago

👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow

What is Ligma? Some minor god you think will save you when your plane is consumed?

🌱 merlehighchurch1

LIGMA BALLS OHHHHHHHH

✨ you-know-from-tv Follow

ohmygod you killed him

(53,007 notes)

🍑 juicy-wizard-official

↻ 7-bird-watcher Follow

🚀 cap-n-port Follow

A picture of the moon I took with my new camera! If you look really closely, you can see the B.O.B. on the left side.

🌱 merlehighchurch1

🚀 cap-n-port Follow

You can't do that here

(68,913 notes)

🌱 merlehighchurch1

↻ merlehighchurch Follow

🌱 merlehighchurch Follow

hey guys! it's me, merle hightower highchurch. just wanted to come on here and say that i'm a total loser and lup is the coolest bitch alive

🌱 merlehighchurch1

STOP

#this is elder abuse

(1,002 notes)

💀 reaper-kravitz-official

.

#my coworkers are driving me CRAZY rn #what do you mean it was 'just a little bit' of necromancy #WE ARE LITERALLY REAPERS LIKE HELLO #and now rq will be pissed at me. great #vent #do not rb

(2 notes)

🕸️ krav-dementia-raven-way

i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fu

#ohhhhh my god accidentally posted on the wrong blog #i didn't realize until BOTH of my coworkers had seen it fuck me #i am dating one of their brothers as well so #dreading our next work meeting and my date plans tonight

(1 note)

🌈 lucretiaadventurezone

i need to pick up taako by the scruff of his neck and shake him around

[libraryraccoon]

Yuu and reader but

But reader is forgettable.

Imagine Reader who arrived in Twisted Wonderland with Yuu, they got along very well together and with Grim, but Yuu and Grim end up abandoning Reader, creating their group of friends that we all know. Reader tries to approach them, become friends with them, but without success.

And then Reader finds himself alone, and everyone acts as if he doesn't exist. So much so that Reader questions his existence and becomes very quiet.

The ghosts realize this and spend time with Reader, and Reader considers them his only true friends. I'm pretty sure Reader would have tried to kill himself to become a ghost and join the ghosts gang but would have failed.

Reader would have stopped going to class, some teachers (Trein and Crewel) would have noticed and talked to him about it.

Reader walks around campus at all hours without anyone noticing him (he would have already been dancing in class and singing loudly and out of tune and no one would have noticed).

In the end, Reader is left alone for so long, talking to no one except the ghosts, that he forgets his name (the ghosts call him "Little Ghost").

And at book 5, he meets Chenya. And this is how it happens :

“What do you do alone ?” Chenya asked.

"Wait... Are you talking to me ?" Reader asked sitting in a tree, looking left and right before looking at Chenya.

"Yeah ? There's no one else around." the cat remarked amusedly.

"Oh- sorry I'm not used to people seeing me !" Reader said with a smile on his face, excited that someone alive was talking to him.

"Huh ? Why ?" Chenya asked, frowning in confusion.

“Well, people still act like I’m not there, like I don’t exist.” Reader explained. “Exept ghosts, you’re the first to talk to me in months !”

“oh…” Chenya looked worried. “And what’s your name ?”

"Oh I'm-huh..." Reader said before frowning.

“Well, hello ‘huh’, I’m Chenya.” Chenya said trying to lighten the mood.

“Nah, nah.. I don’t remember my name.” Reader said sounding scared, his breathing quickening.

“huh ?”

"What's my name? What's my name? Who am I? I forgot? I forgot..."

"Hey, calm down, you'll remember.." Chenya tried to calmly reassure.

"No- no ! You're not supposed to notice me or talk to me ! Go with more important people, people who remember their names, who they are !" (Reader having an existential crisis <3)

In the end, Chenya manages to calm Reader down, and he calls him "Little Ghost" (like ghosts) until they find his name.

After that, Chenya will talk about that as his friends at the RSA (like Neige), and they would do all for create a new identity at Reader and after that they will take him with them at the RSA (The RSA director was the one that have the idea of the new identity).

Sam friends of the other side won't stop crying about "The child that have forget his name", making Sam confused (they never answer at his questions about him).

And Trein would be the one finding out that Reader have left three days later.

If nobody write that, I will write it myself.

[keferon]

Part 2 because why not? And I can't stop thinking about it

_______________________

Every mech present at the med bay was looking at the small form in the table.

The organic form found inside Jazz had been recharging for some time already, having fainted during the (very clumsy and inexperienced) treatment that it received by the medics and was now laying in some soft fabrics they managed to aquire.

The only indicative that it was alive was the movement of its chest and the twitchs it made form time to time.

"So you found that inside Jazz?"

Optimus was there, having run to the med bay the moment he heard about what had happened.

"Yeah..."

Prowl was sitting close to the table, staring at the organic, still shaken by everything.

His friend just died, then a small organic came out of him, then it spoke with his friends voice.

He was so confused and overwhelmed, and it was obvious to every mech present at the med bay.

Optimus hummed in acknowledgement before asking to some other mech.

"And Jazz's body?"

"Already recovered and it's being repaired, but..."

Optimus frowned at that.

"But?"

The mech hesitated for a moment.

"It's nothing like us" The mech said "His body is not cybertronian"

"It's an empty shell" Another added.

Optimus didn't say anything to that, not because he knew about that or anything like that.

But because of the small grunt that he heard.

All optics turned to the organic in the table, now off of its armor.

It didn't move much, just opened its optics and stammered so quietly that only Prowl could hear.

"I feel like a shark's chew toy"

Jazz was feeling horrible, his body was sore and his vision was cloudy.

He tried to sit up, but immediately cringed, his expression showing the pain he was feeling.

"You should stay put"

A familiar voice came to his years, loud and clear, well, louder then normal and not so clear for his current weak state.

But he smiled, because, regardless of everything, Prowl was there, so, with a little effort, he tried ti focus vis vision.

"I stay put when I'm dead, and I'll only die in the cockpit of my mecha, I'm a pilot, not a coward, that and death wont dare to take me before I go back home"

He really wanted to put a strong image, he really did, but he froze when his vision finally returned to more normal state.

He was in the repair room that these guys called Med Bay, in a very big table and staring back at many other mechas, who gave him strage looks.

Prowl included.

Even Optimus was there.

That was... enerving.

"Umm... Hello sir?" He said with a forced smile.

There was an awkward silence in the room, the stares became more overwhelming.

Prowl was the one to make the first move.

He got up and looked at the others.

"May I speak with him alone?"

The others seemed to want to say no, but, with Optimus permission, they all left the room.

He waited for the return of the silence to sit back again and stare at the organic, who stared back at him with a confusion he was not used to associate to Jazz, nor the awkward smile that to it.

"Hey Prowler, what's up? Did I stay out for that long?"

"You've been out for a whole Solar Cycle"

The organic frowned, a strange sight for Prowl, as he never seen a species so similar to Cybertronians.

"Just day? Damn, with how groggy I was I thought I had been out for longer, anyway, how's my mecha? I really hope there was no blood spilled, it'll take forever to clean the cockpit and I don't even want to think about the damage"

Prowl didn't say anything at that, taking the information carefully.

It seemed relaxed, like Jazz always did after a day in the battlefield, not caring for its wounds even though he could see the pain on its eyes, trying to hid it with a smile.

It was more worried about the body it was inhabiting.

As much as he didn't want to start the interrogation, he, too, didn't want to be in the dark of this situation.

"Jazz"

The organic stoped talking, tilting its head Jazz did when he was confused.

"Yes Prowler?"

He pursed his derma, an ugly frown forming.

It responde to the name like Jazz would and called him by the way he would.

He hesitated, but the question came anyway.

"What are you?"

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD YES YES THIS IS SO GOOD YOU ARE COOKING ANON

Link to the part one

[darknight3904]

𝘐𝘴 𝘐𝘵 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘠𝘦𝘵?

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘺.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024).

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.4 𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Logan dislikes December. He always has. From the over priced gifts to the over played music, who could forget the biting cold. He hated it all. One of the things he hated most had to be some of the desserts people tried to pass off as edible.

"Get that out of my face." He growls as you try to feed him a forkful of something Al made

"One taste, Logan." You groan

"Don't like fruitcake. Makes me sick." He grumbles, "You eat it."

"But what if she screwed it up. Like those cookies she made that she used salt instead of sugar in?" You pout

"So I'm your guinea pig?" He asks with a sigh

"No! You're my loving boyfriend who will try Al's cooking for me."

"Nice try, bub." Logan takes the fork from your hands and set it back down on the plate, "I'm not dying of food poisoning."

You scoff, like food poisoning would be the thing to take him out.

"Hey, do we have any more lights? I think this strand is broken." Laura asks as she digs through boxes of decorations

"Uhh...I think we had a few more strands somewhere." You say, leaving Logan's side to help the girl with her decoration.

For whatever reason, you and Laura had insisted on not only buying an enormous tree but also that the entire apartment needed to look like an elf threw up in it. Odd little decorations had accumulated in every spare surface of the house. Even Logan's favorite coffee mug had been replaced by a Santa-shaped one that Wade had found at some store. He was pretty sure he was living in a nightmare.

"Do you think he's still scowling over the fruitcake?" You ask

"Probably. I bet his face is doing that dumb thing where it-"

"You two know I can hear you, right?" Logan asked, entering the living room and plopping down on the couch

"If you're not going to eat, can't you help?" You ask

"Help with what?" He sighs

You toss a big ball of tangled-up lights for the tree into his lap. Yes, this really was a nightmare he was stuck in.

Another issue Logan had was gift-giving. Not because he didn't think people deserved gifts, but he never knew what to buy. He'd been alive for nearly 200 Christmases and he still struggled with gift-giving. How's that for bad luck?

He already had something for nearly everyone in his life. Al was getting a container of that hair stuff she liked, Wade and Vanessa were getting matching Hello Kitty sweatshirts, hell he even found a toy for Mary sitting in a discount bin at the grocery store. Now, the two biggest struggles in his life, You and Laura.

Laura had asked for new games for her Switch but Logan had a suspicion you bought them already. So, here he was standing in a Macy's in the Young Women's section, hoping something would catch his eye for the teen in his life. Most of the clothes were either ugly or not her style.

Holy shit, there was no way that qualified as a top. Logan wouldn't let Laura two steps out the door in something like that. That had to be an undershirt or something...right?

An ugly sweater catches his eye. Perhaps he could get her a gag gift. There was a sweater with an overweight cow drinking beer. That seemed decent.

"Excuse me, son. I need to get by."

Logan glances down to see a little old lady pushing a shopping cart. He steps to the side and easily lets her slide past.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He blurts out to her

"Of course!" She smiled

"I got this teen girl at home. I need gift ideas." He sighs, "She's not the girliest and I can't figure it out."

The woman stands there for a second and thinks it over. A small snap of her wrinkled fingers cut through the air.

"How about shoes? Girly girl or not, every young girl likes a new pair of shoes every once in a while."

Logan thought about it, what shoes did Laura even wear? Usually, she was in that black pair of boots. Surely this huge store had something like that.

"Sounds perfect." He nods, "Do you have any ideas for my girl?"

"Oh well, what does she like?" The woman asks

What do you like? He swears he knows yet his brain is empty right now. You like him, that's for sure, "She likes me. I think"

"You're a bit empty-headed, aren't you?" The woman chuckles

Logan slowly nodded in agreement, normally an insult like that would have him simmering but he couldn't fight this old woman. She looked like she was 90.

"Well, when I was young, I always liked receiving a nice pair of pajamas. Or, a candle that smells like cookies. Honestly, I still like getting those things. One of my favorite things though to get was a day of peace and quiet. I used to tell my husband Howard to clean the house and take the kids out in the snow so I could take a long bath and read a book."

Logan thanks the woman, who he learns her name is Darlene, and goes off to find a pair of boots for Laura. He guesses on the size and shoves the gift receipt in the box just in case. He feels a bit unsuccessful as he walks back to the apartment he shares with Laura and you. He had one day left. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and you had wanted to bake cookies and watch movies all day.

He stashed the gifts under the bed, making a mental note to wrap them tonight after you passed out in bed. He tossed the idea around his brain of just giving himself as a gift to you, he'd like that if you did that for him. Honestly, it was the perfect gift for him. Of course, it seemed lamer coming from him now since he had done that for your birthday. Sure, the sex had been great but he wanted to give you something better.

Darlene had suggested pajamas but all you ever wore were his t-shirts to bed, that or nothing. You already had a huge collection of candles, and Laura really wasn't that chaotic so he didn't see any need to keep her away from you.

Fuck, what was he going to do?

The loud slam of the front door has him groaning. You were back from work, and he was still empty-handed in the gift department.

"How was work?" Laura asks

"Good. I gave Matt his gift early since he is driving to his parent's house for the next few days. Oh! I also saw the cutest kitten in that Petshop's window. An itty bitty orange one, looked like he was a few weeks old." You sigh dreamily

Logan officially had an idea. Perhaps it was a bad one, cats never did like him. Oh, fuck it, it beats not having a gift.

The next day, he sets out early. Laura is still snoring in her bed and you've gone off to help Vanessa with something. It's the perfect time to sneak a cat into the apartment.

The pet store is just opening as he arrives. The single employee looks like he'd rather be anywhere else as he welcomes Logan to the store with a monotone voice. So much for the Christmas spirit.

"Hey, there was an orange kitten here. Where is it?" Logan asked looking around an empty cage that was labeled Cats

"What?" The guy asked, not listening

"The orange kitten." Logan huffs, "I want to buy him."

"Oh, he was sold last night. Some lady came in, said her kids wanted a cat for Christmas." The guy says

"What?" Logan asks

"He's gone, man." The guy snorts

"Well, when do you get more?" Logan asks he can feel his blood pressure rising but he took a deep breath.

"More what?" The guy asks dumbly

"Cats! When do you get more fucking cats?!" Logan angrily slams his hand on the counter, "I need one for my girl. Any color I don't give a shit!"

"Oh, not for a while. Probably after the new year. The holiday season, those kittens go fast." The guy shrugs, "The shelters don't really give us too many at a time anyway."

Logan wipes a hand over his face with a groan, "You're really unfuckinghelpful."

Back outside, Logan's legs carry him to the bar he always went to when he was stressed. Two glasses of whiskey deep he's still giftless. It was starting to look like he was going to be the gift. Maybe he could borrow that giant bow Wade had, wrap it around his waist, and surprise you. He was so fucking lame.

Logan stumbles back out onto the sidewalk. Thoroughly drunk, he thinks about hiding in Wade and Al's apartment until this Christmas is over. Seriously, is it New Year's yet? He was losing his damn mind over this entire month.

Down a back alleyway, he pukes into a dumpster. He might've overdone it this time. How long was he even at the bar? You were so going to chew into him about this. A loud crash behind him had him jumping. He spins around, ready for some fight. Instead, little pawprints in the snow catch his eye. They lead to the smallest drain pipe Logan's ever seen. He kneels down, feeling the snow soak into his pants as he peers into the pipe. A little black and white kitten with yellow eyes stares back at him.

Maybe he wasn't entirely fucked this Christmas after all.

"Hey, bub." He greets the kitten, "Wanna c'mon out?"

He sticks a finger into the drain pipe and recoils when the kitten slices it open with a claw.

"Motherfucker!" He curses at the sudden, unexpected pain. The cat hisses from inside the pipe and Logan groans.

He sticks his face closer to the pipe and the kitten backs up a few small steps.

"Listen here, you little shit stain. You're going to save my ass tomorrow morning, so get out here. Or so help me I'll- "

The animal mockingly meows in his face.

A can of tuna from the corner store, and multiple scratches later, Logan is victorious. The black and white kitten has been secured. Logan has it tightly bundled up in his jacket, in an effort to not only keep it warm but also keep it from scratching his eyes out.

When he reaches the apartment, he pushes the door open and calls your name. Lucky for him, you're still out with Vanessa. He enters the bathroom and shuts it behind him.

"Bath time you little monster. I can't have you stinking tomorrow up."

The kitten, despite it's size is elusively strong. It wiggles out of Logan's grasp multiple times and somehow manages to have his entire shirt soaked from the water that he's filled the sink with.

"It's warm water. Just gotta rinse the soap off." He reasons with the animal as it scratches at the door.

"Is someone in here?" Laura's voice calls

"Yeah, It's me. Bathroom!" He yells back

The bathroom door swings open just as he snatches the kitten back up and Laura stares at him in bewilderment.

"What are you doing? Is that a cat?"

"No, he's the devil. Help me rinse it." Logan huffs

To his dismay, Laura is able to get the cat to stay relatively still under the running water as she rinses the soap off.

"Where did you find a kitten? That local pet store is sold out." She says

"You know that bar a few blocks away?" He asks

"The one you go to when you stress drink?" Laura asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion

Logan shoots her a look but nods, " I found him in a drain pipe nearby."

Laura coos down at the little animal as she wraps a big towel around it.

"What's its name?" She asks as she dries it off

"I dunno. Frank?" He shrugs sitting down on the edge of the tub

"Not everything can be named Frank," Laura judges him

"Alright, fine." He huffs, and a wreath that you hung on the bathroom door catches his eye. Jingle bells that gleam in the light are decorated with holly and berries adorn the wreath.

"Jingle. Or maybe Bell." He says staring at the wet kitten who seems hypnotized by Laura.

"Sounds good to me." She smiles at the kitten who meows back, "Hello, Jingle."

Logan sighs in relief and stands up, "Hide Jingle in your room."

"Where are you going?" Laura asks as he exits the bathroom

"Jingle needs a place to shit. We need cat stuff."

The next day, Logan is woken up by you gently kissing his neck.

"Morning." He mumbles

"Good morning." You smile, "It's Christmas."

He nods with a small grin.

"C'mon time to get up." You huff and stand up to pull at his arm

"What are you five?" He groans as you fail to move him

"Yes. Now get up."

Presents opened and a million pictures taken, Logan feels even more tired than when he went to bed last night.

To his glee, Laura loves the boots, and he's even managed to get the right size. Darlene as it turns out is full of good ideas.

"Last one." He says to you, "Put your hands out and close your eyes."

You give him a look like he's about to prank you.

"Wade put a cicada in your hands one time and now you distrust everyone?" He asks

"Yes. That was the scariest moment of my life." You affirm

"Just shut your eyes." Logan huffs

He has somehow gotten Jingle to stay in a little basket he found in the closet and he gingerly places it into your hands. The kitten shifts and nearly tips the basket over as you open your eyes.

"Logan!" You gasp, looking between him and the black-and-white fuzz ball.

"Like it? That orange one was gone when I got to the store. But I-"

You're jumping off the couch and tossing your arms around his broad shoulders. Jingle still sitting in his basket.

"I love him." You smile, leaning in for a kiss

"Good. You have no idea what I went through to get him for you." He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, aware that Laura is watching and just a sentence away from teasing him.

"What's his name?" You ask as he lets you go, "Or are you a girl?"

Logan hadn't bothered to check as he shrugs and you pick the kitten up, lifting it's little tail up.

"A boy...I think" You say

"We were going with Jingle." He says looking at Laura who nods, "But you can change it."

"I think that's perfect." You smile, petting the animal's head.

Luckily this cat likes you a lot more than it liked him yesterday. Logan's eyes narrow at the way the cat stares at him, what was this animal's deal?

"So how'd you get him?" You ask curiously

"Would you believe me if I said I nicely talked to him and then let him follow me home?"

"No, not in a thousand years."

Logan chuckles as you smile back at him. Alright, maybe the holidays aren't so bad. He still thinks New Years could come quicker though.

Next Extra

I was feeling like I needed Christmas when I wrote this. Fun fact, originally I was going to have Logan tell the reader he loved them with a kitten at Christmas. Scrapped that for the scene in the yard at the school. :)

Also, I've gotten a couple of anons sliding into my inbox asking if I'm doing kinktober or anything like that. I am not unfortunately as I have a busy college schedule that is somehow getting even busier... that being said I do still plan to write just not on a daily basis.

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[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[traveler-at-heart]

Hello there, how are you? I don't know if you take requests at the moment but i want to ask you if you could write something with Liho?

Maybe something like, Liho didn't like any partners Nat had before Yn, and since they got together Liho likes Yn, Nat thought that maybe more than the cat loves her.

And maybe Yn left some clothes in Nat's house and when Liho misses her, she went to i don't know, a jumper, and sleep on top of it. And when Nat found Liho, she send a picture to Yn, and went next to Liho like saying "i'm gonna marry her soon"

So, this isn't exaaactly the request, but it is where the story took me! In any case, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the prompt :)

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha knew how to protect herself.

Don’t trust anyone, always look over your shoulder.

It’s what kept her alive for so long.

But it’s what made her lonely too.

The few people she dated took her dettachment as a challenge that they happily accepted but soon abandoned.

Others were disinterested in complicated affairs from the start, and so things didn’t move past a couple of dates.

Then, you.

Medical staff came and went around the Compound. Most of the team had enhanced capabilities to heal themselves; for her part, Natasha was too stubborn to go on her own.

That’s how she knew she was seriously injured.

“Agent Romanoff” you greeted, a wary smile on your lips as Natasha struggled to focus, the white lights hurting her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused”

“Yeah, that tracks” you nodded, turning away from the chart to look at her. “Do you remember anything?”

“An explosion…“

“And before that a bullet to your side. We were able to fix it by resecting a small portion of your liver and spleen, but you’ll need rest. For now, I’ll monitor you. Let’s think about discharging you in a couple of days”

“I can take care of myself” she objected, but struggled to sit up, pain invading her right side.

“That would be the feeling of cracked ribs” you nodded torwards her side. “I’m not asking if you want to stay, Agent. Your teammates are coming and going for missions or other engagements and you need to be monitored 24/7 for possible complications”

“What you’re saying is, I’m a prisoner here”

“Of course not” you closed the chart, smiling. “We don’t let the prisoners watch tv”

—

It had been mere hours, and Natasha was restless. There was nothing interesting in the tv, her phone was dead and it was ridiculous she was held captive here for “observation” when no one had checked on her for the last three hours.

“Sorry about that. Busy day here” you said with a smile, checking her blood pressure and the chart. “Any discomfort, pain?”

“No”

You nodded, asking for her permission to do a physical exam. Natasha scoffed but agreed with an eye roll.

“Bowel movement?” you asked, checking her pupils.

“No!”

“Ok, no need to get defensive” you placed your hands on each side of Natasha’s head. Your gentle touch made her squirm, and she was able to inspect you closer.

“You’re pretty” Natasha blurted out. You chuckled. “I am so sorry, I don’t know where that came from”

“No need to apologize” you smiled. “It’s the concussion”

“Right”

“Vitals are good, I’ll come back to check up on you in a bit” your pager went off. A large group of agents had just gotten back from a mission. “Squeeze the button if you need anything. Enjoy your stay with us, Agent Romanoff”

“When will I be able to go… home?” Natasha said, but you closed the door before she had a chance to finish her sentence.

—

Natasha hated being wrong. At midnight, the pain got bad and yet, you had to convince her she needed some medicine to ease the discomfort and rest.

But whatever you gave her worked wonders. When she openes her eyes, you were on the couch next to her bed, going through some charts and reports.

“Hey” she said. “I don’t know your name”

“Y/N” you looked up, smiling.

You sat next to her, checking her vitals as she drifted in and out of her sleep stupor. By the time she was fully awake, it was almost noon.

There you were again, munching on a cookie as you scribbled on a sheet.

“You don’t have to stay here all day”

“Oh, it’s no bother” you said, not looking up.

“No other patients right now?”

“No, it’s actually because every medic and nurse is afraid of you and they won’t bother me when I’m here”

“Glad I can be of service”

“Are you hungry? We can get you something very light to eat” you finally looked up, trying to hold back a yawn. It had been an intense night in the emergency medbay.

“What are my options?”

“Oatmeal and that’s about it”

“No coffee?”

“Nu-uh”

Natasha shruged her shoulders and nodded. You smiled, walking out of the room. At least three interns were waiting for you, asking all kinds of very stupid questions. You turned to her, as if saying, “I told you so” and left.

—

For the rest of the day, Natasha was the perfect patient, which obviously made you suspicious.

You repeated your physical exam, asked the same questions, got the answers minus the hint of sarcasm. You were about to turn and leave when she asked again.

“Wait! I can go home now, right?”

“Your hemoglobin is still a bit low and I’d like to wait at least another day”

“I can’t wait another day” Natasha said, glaring.

“Agent Romanoff, you can’t even go on missions right now. Whatever it is you’re so eager to do, I’m sure it can wait” you insisted, trying to avoid an argument after a 48 hour shift.

“It can’t” she insisted, and the monitor began to signal the rise of her blood pressure.

“Calm down” you asked, walking back to her bed. “Please tell me how can I help”

“It’s complicated”

“I’ll tell you what’s complicated. Pulling out bullet fragments from your stomach while I try to keep you from bleeding out. I was in that OR for eight hours and would like to guarantee you recover fully”

Natasha looked at you, and you sighed, sitting by the edge of her bed.

“I have a… cat”

“Oh”

“I need to feed her”

“Can’t someone else do it? A neighbour? One of the other Avengers?”

“Liho doesn’t like anyone, but me. If she hears or smells a stranger, she’ll freak out and attack them or try to run away” Natasha explained. “It’s not ideal considering my profession”

“Yeah” you nodded, thinking about what to do. Moving Natasha was not an option right now. “Let me try”

“Try what?”

“Try feeding Liho, is that her name?”

“It’s dangerous” Natasha warned you, sure it would end in disaster.

“My shift is ending, I can go right now” you ignored her warning. “If I could discharge you right now, I would. Don’t want a cat starving on my watch”

Natasha nodded, and gave you her address. You were surprised she had moved out of the Compound, but then again, a chief surgeon wasn’t privy to the Avengers every move.

The spy made you swear you’d call her if anything went wrong. As you opened the door to her apartment with the spare key, you were expecting to find a giant, feral animal waiting to sink its claws in your flesh.

“Liho” you called a couple of times, making sure the door was closed so she couldn’t escape. “I’m a friend of your mama, she’ll be back in a couple of days”

You were looking around the living room, when a thud behind your back made you jump. And there she was, a black cat with beautiful green eyes -that strangely, reminded you of Natasha’s-. You stared at each other, waiting for someone to move.

Liho did.

She let out a meow and rubbed herself against your leg.

“You’re the cutest” you cooed her, relaxing as she purred in your arms. “Why would Natasha even say you’re scary?”

While the cat jumped around, you searched for her food, cleaned her water bowl and her sandbox. Once you were done, you called Natasha.

“You owe me an apology”

“Did she scratch your eye out like Fury?” she sighed.

“No… wait. Is that how Fury lost his eye?”

Liho jumped on the kitchen counter, purring and rubbing herself against your arm.

“Is that Liho?”

“Yes. She has been purring and following me ever since I got here, Nat. She’s the sweetest cat and you were calling her crazy! In fact, you don’t owe me an apology, you owe it to Liho. Come here, gorgeous”

The cat responded to your words and Natasha smiled.

“I’ll stop by again before I go back to the hospital. Anything else you need?”

You filled a tote bag with everything on her list. Once you were done, you said goodbye to Liho. Thinking it might be funny, you took a selfie with her, smiling as she snuggled on your chest.

You sent it to Natasha, not thinking much of it.

Natasha’s blood pressure increased as soon as she saw the picture. No nurse dared to comment when she turned off the monitor with a smack.

—

“Is this really necessary?” Natasha said, fidgeting on the wheelchair.

“Humor me, Agent” you asked, pushing her to the entrance of SHIELD’s medical facilities. “This is the last time you have to follow my medical advice”

Clint was waiting for Natasha, and he looked as you wheeled her his way, clearly amused.

“How did you manage to get her to sit?”

“I have my ways” you winked at the man. Agent Barton was a far better patient, if only because you had his wife on speed dial.

“Remember, rest. Take your meds and call me if anything feels off. And say hi to Liho for me” you helped Natasha to the car, closing the door as she settled in. You waved as they drove off.

“What was that about your cat?”

“Oh, Dr. Y/L/N went to my place twice a day to feed her”

“And she survived? She must be special” Clint chuckled.

Natasha had to agree with that.

—

Liho was happy to see her human again, roaring like an engine as she rubbed herself on Natasha’s legs. After she came back from the hospital, the cat would never leave Natasha’s side.

The Russian also noticed that you had kept her place clean, and left some groceries and food for the first few days of her home recovery.

It was a strange feeling, being taken care of. Not unpleasant, truthfully, when it came from you. As she stayed in the confines of her apartment, Natasha pondered if it meant something else or if it was just wishful thinking.

You checked on her via text message, and that was all you could really manage to do, as you had back to back shifts and emergency procedures throughout the week. Still, you made sure to send some food to Natasha through delivery apps.

By the time you finally had more free time, it was a chilly Thursday night. As you were leaving the hospital and walking to your car, your phone rang.

“Please, not another emergency” you sighed, surprised at the name on the screen. “Hey, Agent Romanoff. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing ok… but I might need your help”

“Nat, what’s wrong?” you dropped all formalities, rushing to your car.

“I’m fine, it’s Liho. I left the window open and she climbed all the way up the emergency stairs. And I tried but can’t go out and reach her”

“What do you mean you tried? You should have called me right away! Anyway, doesn’t matter, I’ll be there. Don’t do anything stupid, those are doctor’s orders”

By the time you got to Natasha’s apartment,  a storm was fast approaching.

“Hey, sorry for bothering you”

“It’s not… blood!”

“What?” Natasha looked down, at the place where you were pointing. Right on her stitches, there was a small stain of blood. “Oh, must have happened when I tried to reach for her”

“I knew I should have kept you for another week at the hospital” you grumbled, leading her to the couch. You found a gauze in your emergency kit and lifted her shirt, applying pressure. “Do not move. I’ll be right back”

“The stairs are slippery” she warned you as you stepped out the window. Natasha was surprised at how graceful your movements were.

You looked around, calling for Liho, but the clouds were covering the moon and the sky was dark, making it almost impossible to spot her.

“Ok, fine” you climbed up the steps, holding on to the rail. Taking a deep breath, you let out a high pitched call. “Kitty. Where’s my kitty?”

There small beads shone in the middle of the darkness, and you reached forward. Liho complained, clearly scared about the height. A thunder made her jump, climbing a lot higher.

“Liho, I take it back. You are crazy”

By the time you were able to reach her, it had begun pouring. You placed the cat inside your sweatshirt, to protect her from the rain and have both hands free to climb down.

“That was fun” you said, going inside soaking wet. You almost slipped and Natasha caught you by the waist. “Thanks” you said, feeling warm as her hand went around your back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips, and Natasha caught on, leaning forward.

In that moment, Liho peeked her head from the collar of your sweatshirt, protesting at the uncomfortable feeling of being drenched.

“Here, you need to dry” Natasha offered while you closed the window.

“Thanks, Nat”

She came back with a towel, yoga pants and a t-shirt. You tried not to swoon at the idea of wearing something of hers. Still, you said thanks and disappeared in the bathroom to get changed.

“Let me have a look” you asked when you came back, inspecting her abdomen. “Looks like it was just a small stitch on the edge of the wound. I’ll fix it if it’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, sure” Natasha nodded, and laid back as you prepared the sutures and wore gloves. You applied some local anesthesia and began to work.

“My technique is flawless. The scarring will be almost invisible” you promised.

“So, I can still wear bikinis?”

“Yeah” you nodded, trying to stay focused while the image of Natasha in a swimsuit floated around your head.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Liho” Natasha said in a low voice, which almost made your hands tremble. “Too bad my doctor hasn’t officially discharged me, or I’d take you out to dinner”

“How about some take out instead?” you smiled, cleaning the wound and helping her up.

“That can be done for sure”

You had pizza with beer, sitting on Natasha’s living room while Liho jumped from your lap to hers. It was the best date you ever had.

Pretty soon, the alcohol and exhaustion caught up to you and when Natasha came back from the kitchen, you were fast asleep in her couch, Liho snuggled up in your chest.

Natasha smiled, covering you with a blanket. Liho purred, and your hand went up to scratch behind her ear on pure insctinct.

“I like her too, Liho” Natasha said with a smile. “She’s definitely a keeper”

[sanguineterrain]

hey sanne! hope you're having a good day!

love your fics soo much and i always jump up a little when i get a notification for when you post on ao3!

i have a request if it interests you! what if jay and reader get stuck in a hostage situation together? like at a bank or a convenience store or something? just obsessed with the idea of jason being protective and badass in his civilian identity!

thank you for your lovely fics! 💕

thanks for the request!

jason todd x gn!reader. mild violence, robbery, jason being cute and sweet and a little awkward as per, reader is guilty of judging jason by his appearance.

****

The bell above the door chimes as you enter your favorite convenience store. You haven't been in a while, but the older clerk still nods and smiles at you, saying hello in an accent you don't know. You greet him back.

He's a nice man, sometimes sneaking in a free pack of gum into your bag. Proof that capitalism hasn't squashed everyone's spirit yet.

Actually, you used to regularly stop here to get a treat on your walk home. Lately, though, the prices have been too steep for your meager wages.

Three dollars for a bag of chips is actually ridiculous. Are they 24K gold chips? Will they cure fear gas syndrome?

Stupid inflation.

You take a step back, thinking maybe the price will lower if you put some distance between you. Instead, you bump into someone's shoulder. You quickly back away, apologies on your lips.

Whoa.

The shoulder belongs to possibly one of the biggest guys you've ever seen. Even swallowed up in his red hoodie, he looks like he could bench press four of you. He towers over the packaged cookie display, which is what he'd been looking at before your misstep.

He's also wearing long sleeves and jeans in eighty degree weather, which is... a choice. Maybe he has an iron deficiency. You want to tell him but think better of it.

"Sorry," you say at the same time that he says, "Sorry, y'okay?"

His voice is soft and deep. You nod, and he barely glances at you before he tucks in closer to the shelf, as if anticipating for you to pass him.

Instead, you bump into the adjacent shelf and knock a couple Doritos bags to the floor.

"Dammit," you whisper.

Hoodie bends down before you do, startling you with his speed. He puts the chips back. He looks at you, and you look at him.

His face is young, nose crooked like it's been in a lot of fights. He has a scar traveling from his right eye across his face to his lip.

Never judging a book by its cover is great in theory, but this is Gotham. Judgment keeps you safe.

He's cute, though. His lips are pink and full. There's a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose.

But you're not about to interact with anyone more than you need to at a convenience store, so you turn around and hope he doesn't try to approach you.

And it's like Hoodie can hear your thoughts because a moment later, he goes to another aisle, leaving you alone. You relax and peruse the chips in peace.

Cheetos. Are Cheetos worth three dollars and tax, though?

Maybe just a drink.

You go to the fridges and stare, debating between a ginger ale and a Snapple when the bell above the door jingles.

"This is a robbery!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

You turn and see a guy in a ski mask with a gun pointed at the cashier. The old clerk is shaking and has his hands up. Yeah, you're never coming back here again. Overpriced Cheetos aren't worth it.

But then to your right, you see Hoodie, crouched on the ground. He gestures for you to get low. You hesitate.

"Hey," he says, as quietly as he can. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm gonna get us outta here alive, okay? But you gotta trust me a little. C'mere."

Hearing him speak at length, it's clear that Hoodie is Gotham-born and bred. And he's certainly not from the Heights. His drawl is thick and, dare you say, comforting. It's old-school Jersey, like you could walk into a diner and find him chatting with the retirees. The thought startles you.

What was that about books and covers?

You get low like he wants and scurry over to him. He scoots back against the last fridge and gestures for you to do the same.

"This is the blind spot for the cashier," Hoodie whispers. "I don't think he saw us, so you'll be okay here."

You nod. You can't speak. Can't move. Can't breathe.

"Hey." Hoodie tilts his head to find your eyes. His eyes are a brilliant teal. What a pretty color. "Hey, y'alright? Can you make a fist for me?"

You make a loose fist. He nods.

"Good. Now..." He checks around the shelf. It sounds like the clerk is still emptying the register. "Squeeze your fist and inhale. Then release your fist and exhale. Can y'do that?"

You clumsily follow his directions. He makes the fist with you.

"Good, good. Okay. 'S okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to ya, alright?"

You have no idea how he can promise something like that.

"When I push this shelf, run for the other side, okay? And when he's distracted, you'll leave out the front."

Your eyes fly to his in alarm.

"What?" you hiss. "Are you crazy? He'll shoot you!"

"I'm really fast," he says.

Oh, okay. He's insane too. Cool.

"Hurry the fuck up, old man!" the robber shouts. "I will shoot you."

Hoodie glares venomously in his direction. "Can't let 'im get away. Ready?"

No, not ready, definitely not ready!

He pushes a shelf with one leg. It crashes to the floor. Briefly, you wonder if he's ever crushed a watermelon between his thighs. From the size of them, he definitely could crush—

Okay, not the time.

He nudges your arm when you don't move. You book it to the other side of the store like he ordered. The robber clomps across the store, leaving the clerk.

"That was stupid, guy!" the robber shouts. "Really fucking stupid!"

Bang! You yelp and duck.

"What's stupid is your aim," Hoodie growls.

There's a few grunts and a landing punch. By the time you get up, the robber is out cold on the floor. Hoodie is disassembling the gun and unloading the chamber. Then he goes to the clerk.

"Thank you, good boy," the clerk says, still wobbly with fear. "Good Jason. So good."

Jason. A name for your savior.

"It's okay, Mr. Kourakis." Jason keeps talking, but it's not a language you understand. It's... Greek?

Just who is this guy, exactly?

Mr. Kourakis nods, shaky hands grasping Jason's forearms as he steadies himself. Jason comforts him for a moment, then gently extricates himself to retrieve the money from the unconscious robber and return it to the register.

On impulse, you take a Mrs. Fields double chocolate chip cookie from the shelf on your way to the register.

Mr. Kourakis keeps talking, obviously panicked. Jason soothes him in his rumbling voice, picking up the shelf he knocked over with one hand, like he's holding a basketball.

"Sorry, um, did you call the police?" you ask, interrupting their conversation.

Jason glances at you. "No cops. They're messy and inept. I told Mr. Kourakis that I'll take care of this."

Your brows rise. Inept? Looks like your savior has a great vocabulary too.

"And by 'take care of,' you mean...?"

He smiles a little, the scar on his lip stretching white. "Not like that. I meant that, uh, I got a buddy who knows a Bat."

Right, of course. You're four blocks from the Red Hood's territory.

Jason touches Mr. Kourakis' arm and tells him something else in Greek. Mr. Kourakis nods, then wearily flips the OPEN sign to CLOSED. He disappears into the back room after that.

"You can go," Jason says, not unkindly. He types something on his phone. Then he shuts it off and looks at you. "You hurt at all?"

You shake your head. You're still trying to puzzle him out. He's the weirdest Gothamite you've ever met.

"How do you know Greek?" you ask.

You don't know why you're asking questions. You should just take the blessing and leave.

"Study abroad," he says around a smile, like he's telling a joke that you're not privy to.

"...Right. And did you learn how to disarm a robber while you were abroad, too?"

"Nope," he says mildly. "I take jiu-jitsu classes at the Y."

You look at the crumpled robber on the floor. His mask is off and he has a black eye and a drying bloody nose. You doubt they teach that at the Y.

"Thank God for the Y, I guess," you say, turning back to Jason.

He shrugs. "Gotta defend yourself in Gotham."

No arguments there.

"Yeah. And thank you for, um. What you did back there. I got—I've never been held at gunpoint, and I guess I just... I dunno..."

Jason steps forward and makes an aborted gesture, like he was going to touch your arm. He doesn't, though, instead just nodding.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he says tenderly. "'S normal to be scared. You did great."

Jeez, is this guy a counselor? He looks too young to be doing that, though.

"You didn't seem scared," you say.

Jason shrugs, suddenly tense. "Ah, I just hide it well."

"Oh. Well, anyway." You put a few dollars on the counter and hold out the Mrs. Fields cookie. "'Least I can do is buy your cookie."

Jason's eyes widen. "I—y-you don't hafta—"

"It's really no trouble! It's all I can do to thank you. Because you really saved our butts today."

You shake the cookie a little. Jason hesitantly accepts it, then glances at your money on the counter.

"You shouldn't," he says. "This place price-gouges. Chips for three bucks is insane."

You grin. "It really is! But I don't mind. I've kinda lost my appetite, in any case. You deserve a cookie, Jason."

He blinks once-twice-three times at your use of his name. "Oh. It wasn't a big deal."

Is he serious? He can't be. "Of course it was! You risked your life for me. Thank you, seriously."

You start to back up towards the exit. Jason watches you, a mix of bewilderment and bemusement.

"Well, I gotta get home. Feed my cat." You make finger guns. God, you're lame. A good-looking guy saves your life, and you lose all sense. "Thanks again."

"Wait!"

Jason follows you outside, cookie in hand. His mouth is open like he's about to ask a question. You wait expectantly.

"Um." He swallows. "Prince Street."

"What?"

"The bodega on Prince Street. I know the owner. He's got better prices. You can tell him you're my friend. To, y'know, get a discount. Not... not that I think you're—I mean, I don't—"

You smile. Jason cuts himself off, looking a little frustrated.

"You're really sweet," you say. If you were crazier, you might kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the tip. And thanks for today. Take care, Jason."

"Yeah," he says as you walk down the block. "Yeah, you too."