#i don't know how to describe what i felt when i opened onto a page he had bookmarked

[jji-lee]

you stared at your kitchen counter, sheets covered with song lyrics scattered all around you. each one sweeter than the next. mark had labeled the songs, each one with a date and the song title written on the top of the page.

03.15 no names, just us

he talked about how you both met, on that stupid site. how he knew from the start that it felt just right. he didn't need to see your face, the words you spoke making him feel like he found his place.

03.16. my juliet

he said he'd never read the book, hadn't even taken a look. but that day he asked hyuck for a copy. he finished it only in a couple hours, laying on his bed, wondering what the hell he just read. he hoped that his love story wouldn't reach that tragic end.

03.22. just lips

you blushed as you read the next song, a very detailed description of your first kiss. he talked about his roaming hands, feeling your ass, soft and plump, described how it made something other than his heart jump. how by the end of the night he was dying to see you, but all that you left him with was his balls blue.

04.07. ms. librarian

this one was about when he finally found out it was you. how he tried to deny that his neighbor was the one, but fate brought him to you, not just anyone. so he'd have to find his way into your heart, even if it meant he'd have to keep a secret that could pull you two apart.

04.12 soft sweet scent

this song was supposed to be about the first time you two hung out. but mark started to ramble about how you smelt, how it made him wonder how you felt. the rest you'll keep to yourself, but it's about the thoughts he had when he locked himself in your bathroom, lets just say he had a lot in mind of what he'd want to do to you.

.

the rest of the songs went on about the dates you both had, about the guilt he felt for keeping the secret, the jealousy he felt when he saw you with his friends. there were 64 songs in total, some short some long, but each one filled with nothing but pure love. the 64th was the shortest, but just as special.

05.18 come over

i can't believe it took me so long to realize what was right next door. the perfect girl for me, the one that always leaves me wanting more. just with one kiss you had me hooked, even before i knew how you looked. so come to me baby, i'm right next door waiting, be mine please, don't just stand there debating.

right as you finished you heard a knock on your door, you didn't even think twice before opening it, lyric sheets still in your hands. mark stood there fist up in the air, shocked at the speed at which you opened the door. a blush crept onto his cheeks as he chuckled awkwardly,

"oh, um, hi, hi i know in the, uh, song i told you to come over, but you were taking kinda long, so i just wanted to see if um, you were okay."

you smiled up at him, blushing like a school girl, a light giggle escaping your lips,

"you do know you wrote 64 songs right? i'm an english major but i don't read that fast."

he scratched the back of his neck,

"oh yeah, right, sorry, i like, i don't know dude, i haven't slept in days."

you raised a brow at him,

"dude? is that how you refer to your girlfriend?"

"oh no i'm sorry i just- wait what? my girlfriend? you'll be my girlfriend, really?"

he leaned down to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, the paper in your hands crinkling as you squeezed him back,

"god, it's only been 2 days but i missed your smell, you just smell so-"

he inhaled deeply, as he leaned into your neck, placing light kisses there.

"mhmm, i know, i think i read about it in the 'soft sweet scent' song. something about wanting to know if i tasted just as swee-."

he moved his attention away from your neck, deciding to place a soft kiss on your lips instead,

"okayyy, that's enough. i will actually die if you read anything that i wrote out loud."

you giggled as the blush on his cheeks grew darker, clearly remembering the dirty words he spent all night writing. he cleared his throat, backing away from the hug,

"so, i kinda prepared something if you wanna go see, it's kinda corny but, i don't know, i don't know, i got it off pinterest."

you nodded quickly, excited to see what he planned, squeezing his hand tightly as he led you out of your apartment and into his.

.

as you walked into his apartment you felt your heart fluttered at the scene in front of you. the room was dark, only the light from the tv illuminating the room. his couch was adorned with soft blankets and pillows, snacks laid out on the coffee table.

"i know it's not much but, i got your favorite snacks, and- wait, look-"

he reached for a blanket on the couch, stretching it out in his arms, showing it to you, you laughed at the image on the blanket.

"wait- can you see? did i get it right? that's nanami right?"

"yes mark, you successfully bought a blanket with nanami's face on it."

he threw the blanket back on the couch, smiling proudly as he walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. you brought your hands up to hold his face bringing him down for a quick kiss. he smiled wide as he pulled you towards the couch.

"guess what we're gonna watch. it starts with romeo and ends with-"

you stopped in your tracks,

"wait you don't expect me to sit on that couch right? the one you used to fuck all those girls on?"

he laughed nervously,

"uh, actually, how about you meet me in my room."

you gave him a thumbs up before making your way to his room, giggling as he gave your ass a light pat as you walked away.

"oh, and don't bring nanami! he touched the weird sex couch!"

mark let out a laugh as he watched you make a disgusted face at the piece of furniture. not like he was gonna bring him anyways, he was getting laid tonight, and he didn't need some old anime guy watching.

𖦹 .ᐣ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ cryptic crush — [39] certified throat goat

previous — masterlist — next

notes : heyoooo, this is like the second to last update for this series (idk what second to last means but theres one more chapter hehe) then i will make some extras so lmk if theres something specific you want to see!!!

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @dalsosapple , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @miichellehciim , @hizhu , @mystverse , @ppeachyttae , @jae-n0 , @onlyhyunjin , @alethea-moon , @onyourmark-99 , @sunnystarred , @p-d1ddy , @hisrkive , @flwrs4marklee , @haechskiss , @rutheaflowers , @busy-daydreaming02 , @byeonwooseokabs , @bunniin , @odxrilove , @injunnie-lemon , @sunflowerhae , @nosungluv , @222brainrot , @vklve , @aerivrs , @slayhaechan , @aek1ra , @honeynanamin , @roseangelxfuma , @starfilledgaze , @meowtella , @grassbutneo , @hyuck-me , @lovm4rk , @minkyuncutie , @babystrlla , @tynlvr , @jakesbubu , @yutasputa69 , @mrkleelvr , @spiderm444rk , @zzurao , @haechoshi , @brii-sunwoos-version , @nneteyamss , @morkiee

[daydreamalley]

A Ramble about Phase 19 of the Fifteen Manga Ft. Storm Bringer spoilers

Just absolutely cannot get over the 15 manga. I love the light novel so much, but this manga adaptation is so ridiculously amazing. Dazai and Chuuya’s proximity/touching has been amazing of course. I adore the way Hoshikawa draws Dazai and Chuuya as well (my baby boys, especially Chuuya). But these last two chapters with Rimbaud and Verlaine. Like, fuck. The whole “At least, one of them felt that way,” part just hits so much harder in the manga for me, with the art and page placement. And this whole most recent chapter. Like firstly, you don’t have to end every chapter with like Chuuya getting stabbed okay, help me out here.

Comparing the last page of phase 18 with Verlaine and the first page of phase 19 with Chuuya makes it so obvious that Rimbaud is seeing the similarities between them with just that parallel, which is confirmed later with Rimbaud quite literally seeing Verlaine standing behind Chuuya. 

Not to mention in phase 18 the “That’s right Paul, I remember you,” in conjunction with him seeing Verlaine in Chuuya.

Then that flashback with Verlaine carrying Chuuya and Chuuya’s just so small I could cry.

Like, I knew he was small, but he's just so young, I can't. People were experimenting on him. Like, how??

The way Rimbaud wants to ask Chuuya something and Chuuya crouches down to him. Which leads to Rimbaud putting a hand around Chuuya as he tells him to live. How close and personal they are when Rimbaud says all of this just make it feel so much more impactful for Chuuya. Kinda love too that Chuuya isn't just standing over Rimbaud. He's making it obvious he's open to listening.

Rimbaud says a lot of shitty things to Chuuya up to this point, even complaining that he has to kill a kid while only referring to Dazai, completely not acknowledging Chuuya as anything more than Arahabaki. But once he fully remembers what happened with Verlaine, I feel like that’s when Rimbaud remembers what he truly believed about Verlaine and his humanity and how that extends to Chuuya’s humanity. Because Rimbaud’s whole final speech is most definitely things he’d also thought of or told Verlaine before (as I think is confirmed in SB). I think those are Rimbaud’s true thoughts and beliefs on the matter, it just took that long for him to remember the full story and how he felt about it all. Rimbaud saw Verlaine’s struggles with humanity, and now he also remembers why Verlaine betrayed him. And so he tells Chuuya to live, just as Verlaine wanted him to back then, live without the burden of worrying about your humanity or where you came from, because “you are you.” It doesn’t matter if Chuuya (and Verlaine) “are but a pattern etched on the surface of raw power.” In Rimbaud’s mind, and honestly where we eventually end up at the end of SB, is that it really doesn’t matter what your origins are, whether someone is an artificial personality (aka pattern) etched onto raw power, because really everything is some version of a pattern upon the world. And in a word with abilities, a lot of people are a pattern connected to a power. Just as in SB Chuuya decides that even though Adam isn’t human and he knows it, it doesn’t take away from Adam’s actions, his sacrifices, or his dreams. Same goes for Chuuya and Verlaine. Their origins don't affect how human they truly are. Their humanity is significant no matter what. It just took a bit more convincing for Chuuya to get there, a little more than what Rimbaud could offer on his (almost) deathbed.

Anyway, Chuuya holding Rimbaud’s hand as he dies just does things to me. Like, the book described that “Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou (Rimbaud) was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss… Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt the cold, and the hearts of two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him. A gust of wind peered through their souls as it passed them by.”

This page just so well depicts that last line. It truly feels these boys have heard something so monumental, that they won’t ever forget. Standing in the aftermath of their first fight together, hearing these words about humanity that both mean so much to both of them. Dazai’s expressions really convey this to me in the manga, and convey it just so beautifully. And Chuuya being so close to Rimbaud when he speak those words just makes it feel like those words truly are so monumental for him. And also this means that Chuuya fought to kill a man, that to be entirely fair and clear was trying to kill him first, and then held to his hand as he dies, and there’s just something about this added detail that’s so significant to me in portraying the weight of it on Chuuya. Chuuya's connection to Rimbaud is a complicated but important one. But really these words are important for both boys, because let’s not forget that Dazai also struggles with his humanity. Even if he doesn’t have a physical reason to doubt his humanity, like Chuuya, there are many other reasons that he does doubt it. So hearing that all people and all of humanity are really just patterns within the physical world, human or not that’s true of everyone and everything, and that’s important for Dazai to hear too. I think both boys think back to Rimbaud’s final speech quite a bit, if I’m being honest or did for a while.

I am NOT getting over the detail that someone (Chuuya??) put Rimbaud’s scarf on his grave. I just… it does something to me and I love that detail so much. And cutting back to that “You are you” line while Chuuya’s talking to the grave is just so perfect in my opinion, and again just shows the significance of it so, so well. It’s like, he's talking to Rimbaud, complaining about his actions really, and then it cuts to that “you are you” and it just shows almost the contrast I guess between Chuuya feeling unrest at not finding stuff about his past that Rimbaud could’ve given him, but maybe wouldn’t have anyway, and Rimbaud’s statement that those things don’t matter because Chuuya is who he is beyond all that. Also the little dandelion blowing into the wind, to me also signifying a wish being spread.

Anyway, entirely unnecessary to end the chapter with a big knife in Chuuya’s back, thanks. Especially after Chuuya mentions how he’s still exhausted from everything. Like let’s just, stop, please.

He's just a boy, leave him alone for the sake of all things good.

[lanaxoxoxoxoxox]

No no no you’re getting a FUCKING REQUEST TODAY BABY

Ok so maybe someone of your choice with a really bubbly talkative reader and someone called reader annoying and then they like- stick up for reader

Does that make sense-

Like-

Reader: *talking*

Bitch: “ur annoying”

Person of choice: “not on my watch”

yes yes yes !! im in love with this ask frog oml

angel watch

wilbur soot x loud!reader

warnings: angst?? idk but theres DEF some fluff sprinkled in here

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

reader pov

I never really thought about my actions often, but in a good way. Obviously I would know if I accidentally hurt someone, like any other average human being would do. But I never ever thought about my personality and it's own actions.

Ever since I was in first grade, my parents, friends and even teachers would describe me as someone with a "flirtatious, bubbly" personality. That never really got to me, and I found it funny. I mean, it does make sense, as I literally used "bubbly" in my Twitch username for when I stream. I do have to say, it's quite useful when streaming, as it keeps me engaged with my chat. That's what I enjoyed about myself. But I guess my chat didn't that day.

"Hello bubblies! How are we doing today my loves?" I said, smiling into the webcam.

user657: great!!

user342: meh, but ur stream is the best !! :D

userfroggie8: live laugh love y/n

message was deleted by a moderator

"Nice, nice! If your day is going pretty shit, I hope I can cheer you guys up!" I said, making a heart sign into the webcam. "Today is going to mainly just be a silly lil' rant stream. Maybe perhaps some storytimes? Maybe some clip reactions? We'll see, loves. But first, I need to remind everyone that you can subscribe to my channel for free with Twitch Prime if you have it and would like to support me."

I continued the stream with talking about random stuff that popped into my head. I was in my little streaming room, in my little shared apartment. What I didn't know is what my boyfriend was watching in the living room.

wilbur pov

Whoever said that cleaning pots and pans from the night before is a "relaxing" thing to do, needs to wake the fuck up. I mean, it's not like I'm going to make y/n do it, especially since they're going to be really tired after their stream. Especially with their cute, bubbly personality, when they get tired, they get tired. They have full on "sugar crashes".

I felt my phone vibrate from my back pocket. I placed the last pan down on the drying towel and slid my phone into my hands. I unlocked it.

"y/n_bubbles is live! "LETS CHAT!!" I smiled into the reflection of my phone. I plopped down onto the living room sofa and opened up the Twitch app, playing y/n's stream. I watched for a while, before grabbing my phone to send a message back to Tommy and catching up with my twitter page. I focused my ears back onto y/n's stream.

reader pov

"Alright, lets take a break from the rants for now. I bet y'all are tired of hearing my crazy rant voice!" I laughed to myself.

Suddenly, my donation sound popped up. "I should probably change my sound from the duck noises. That's, um, real immature from me..." I laughed again.

user10 donated $2.00

i dont watch ur streams often but can you like stop talking once in a while ur rly annoying. stop thinking you're different from other streamers and that ur "quirky". stfu. /srs

"Thanks user10 for the $2! Guys, I seriously can't read, I need to take a second to actually read the donations out loud for you guys, seriously." I inspected the donation closer. "Alright user10, what did you write... 'i don't watch ur streams often but can you like stop talking once in a while ur rly annoying-'" My heart stopped.

Don't let them notice Y/n.

Don't let them fucking notice.

I continued reading. "'stop thinking you're different from other streamers and that you're.." I paused. "that you're quirky. Shut the fuck up.' Um, I'm gonna take a little pause break guys." I said quietly, quickly turning off my webcam and switching to the "BRB" screen. I kicked my legs up to the chair and sat there for a minute, ignoring the rest of the world around me. Is that what they really thought of me..?

wilbur pov

I looked back up at the TV. I thought y/n was just talking about her random new games she enjoyed or about her friends, but instead was met with utter silence. When you hear your bubbly significant other who is the biggest extrovert stop talking, in the middle of a chatting stream, you know something's up. I looked over to the corner and saw a donation from some "user10". "i dont watch ur streams often but can you like stop talking once in a while ur rly annoying. stop thinking you're different from other streamers and that ur "quirky". stfu. /srs"

What. The. Fuck.

Not even bothering to shut the TV off or grab my phone, I ran upstairs to Y/n's streaming room and looked over at Y/n, sitting dead silent in her chair. I ran over to them and spun their chair around, accidentally hitting the keyboard and hurting my arm. "Fuck-".

Shut up Wilbur! Focus on your partner.

I spun their chair around and raised up their head. "Hey, hey, it's okay! That person is being a total dick, and what they said was utter lies." They raised their head up and looked at me in the eyes. "Don't listen to them. You're an incredible person." I stood up and looked down at them. Their legs were still bouncing. I kneeled back down again and placed my hand on their thigh to help them stop shaking.

"I love you." I said, before softly kissing them. I felt y/n stop shaking and smiled into the kiss. They turned back to their monitor and their jaw- dropped...?

"Uh, Will?" they said softly.

"Yes, love?" I replied.

"You accidentally turned the webcam back on when you hit the keyboard. The microphone was also on still. Chat's going fucking bananas." they laughed, placing their head in their hands.

user7798: FUCK USER10

user455: they're dating???? OMG

y/nstan4life: omg there so cute why cant i have that [happy-cry]

mcyt7447: Y/NBUR!!

I looked over to the chat and chuckled. "Oh shit."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[gomzwrites]

100 Followers Special: Fic Marathon

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Uniform ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

more info on the fic marathon check out this post :)

Day 3: Konig

Tags: fluff, xtall gn!reader, implied nsfw at the end, inaccurate uniform descriptions, bad German (translation below sentences)

Notes: ・❥・reader's texts are in purple ・❥・indented texts are memories ・❥・dividers drawn by @gomzdraws ・❥・credit to shadeops21 for that one specific shirt described in this fic

a/n: side note, I don't play the game but I did watch the playthrough and ref the cod wiki page. Also remember how I was talking the amount of struggle I did for this fic? its because of the uniform part, can't for the life find out whether Austrian Colonel uniform is red-blue, stone gray or gold, don't even get me started on the insignia XD please if you know what the official uniform would look like lmk in the comment!

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Ah great, looks like we ran out of mayonnaise... Konig dear! Where are you?

A few footsteps were heard when you called for him, and within seconds, he was right at the kitchen door, a worrying face evident in his features.

Yes Liebling? What’s wrong?

Ah, nothing much; we ran out of mayonnaise and a few other items for the dinner I’m making tonight. Can you run to the store and get them for me?

Konig nodded as he quietly walked towards you and took your hand gently.

Do you have a list?

Yeah, hold on.

You quickly take out a piece of paper and scribble down the ingredients needed, fold it neatly, and hand it to him. You think for a moment before smiling as you pat his arm.

Grab some dessert on your way home as well, my treat.

You finish by giving him some cash as his eyes brighten up and he chuckles.

Okay, thank you. I’ll make sure to be back as soon as I can, my Liebling.

You give him a peck on the cheek as he wears his hood and wave him goodbye once he goes into the car. You go back into the kitchen and prepare the other necessary preparations, such as seasoning and washing, before wiping your hands clean.

You decided that since there was extra time and you had to wait for Konig to return with the groceries, you might as well do other chores. You head into the master bedroom, which both of you shared, and open the closets, taking out a few of his military suits and laying them on the bed. It had been awhile since you looked through and iron them since most of his outfits are at the base, so it was refreshing to glance back at the series of uniforms he had.

You run your hands along the combat shirt and pants he had before, smiling when you see the clear difference in sizes over the years. He does still like wearing his black tactical Cyre G3 combat shirt, but what you really like is his Colonel uniform.

You lift it up as you examine it closely, tracing over the different badges and insignia sewed onto the uniform. You chuckle when you recall the memory of when he came home in it.

My dear! Wow, look at you all fancy and looking important! You give a whistle and chuckle as you quickly greet him and stare at him excitedly. Ah, please don't, my Liebling, this is embarrassing… Konig said as he quickly undressed and tossed the uniform onto the floor. But you’re the Colonel! Isn’t that, like, a great achievement in the military? Konig didn't reply as he sighed and kissed your hair; he didn't make any more comments about it, and you never brought it up since it bothered him, not until two days later during the late hours. You felt him rolling to your side as he slung his arm around your waist and pulled you close. I don’t like being one; it brings too much attention to myself. He mumbles as he buries his head into your neck, and you nod in understanding after making sense of what he was talking about and cooed him back to sleep.

But it looks so cool.

You thought to yourself as you looked at the collar, lined with delicate gold arabesques, as it shimmered under the light. You give a hum before you let the impulsive thought win and decide to wear it.

Truthfully, you’re also quite tall yourself thanks to your family’s genes, standing proudly at 6 ft tall(185cm), while Konig is just a few more inches taller around 6.6 ft tall(roughly at 200cm). It’s perfect because you can easily kiss his cheek without much effort and watch him blush hard every single time. He’s never gotten used to having someone who can stare at him the way you do so openly and with ease.

You decided that if you’re going to wear something this extravagant, you might as well go full out. So you promptly remove your shirt and wear the uniform carefully. It wasn’t comfortable due to how rigid the cloth felt against your skin, and the pants were a bit longer, but once you glanced at the mirror, you were quite proud and shocked at how good it looked on you, and it fits well, surprisingly. Well, everything except the sleeves. As always, it was also a bit too long and ended on your knuckles, so you just folded them up.

An idea pops into your mind the more you stare at yourself in the mirror.

You give a hum of amusement as you twirl and stretch around, giggling when you decide to imitate your boyfriend. You take a moment to recall the times when you got to watch his demonstration practice and smirk as you start acting alert and put on your serious game face. You hold up your arms in the air as you imagine yourself holding a rifle and mutter in a deep voice.

Target secured, attack the HVT!

You say this before twisting around and making the "pew pew" sound with your hand, giggling and chuckling as you completely get lost in the moment, then you crouch down beside the bed and pretend to resume a hiding position as you mutter softly.

And they say I could never be a sniper.

You make another dramatic "pow" sound before standing up and sliding to the center of the room with a "hyah!" and standing up, glancing around until you notice a tall figure at the bedroom door that you forgot to close. You instantly stop and freeze at your place as a blush creeps up your face.

Having fun, Mein Schatz?

You let out a huff of embarrassment for being caught like this, and you felt your neck heat up as you gave a sheepish smile.

I erm- Konig-

Scheiße, Sieh dich an... Shit, look at you...

He mutters as he slowly walks towards you; each step felt calculative, so slow as you watched his eyes that kept you in place. You can’t glance away, something about his gaze feels hypnotic.

Something about the way he looks at you makes you shutter; it's intimidating but also….primal…which is kind of hot. As he finally stands in front of you, so close that your chest bumps into his, he tilts his head to one side.

I hated this uniform, but now that I see you wear it, hmmmm…

His voice is deep and drawn out as he circles you, almost like a predator studying its prey. You gulped nervously as you tucked your collar in and answered back with a meek tone.

Should I take it off?

He gives you a long thought as he stands behind you. As soon as his hands are on you, he immediately carries and tosses you to the bed as you yelp at the sudden motion.

K-Konig?

You ask as you watch him crawl towards you as he reveals a smirk, then opens his mouth and lazily runs his tongue over his teeth as he gives a deep chuckle.

No, keep it on, because I...will be the one removing it.

You swallow excitedly as you bite your lips and rest your head on the soft pillow, under his mercy as he towers over you.

Who cares about dinner anyway?

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Previous fic: Kyle Gaz Garrick | Captain John Price Next fic: John Soap MacTavish

a/n: I know everyone hc Konig to be huge at 6”10 but I went along with the military guideline on the tallest height they allow which is around 6.6 ft tall, also I took Ghost's height as a ref which is around 6'4 ((yes yes I know none of these heights are cannon)) but ye XD thinking maybe I'll write some more tall reader x Konig fic in the future though :]

taglist: @cathnoneofyourbusiness | @land-lord-lol

like and reblog if you enjoyed this fic :D have a good day/night!

[guardian-angel12]

Experiment: The Ravager Code.

Close your eyes Have no fear The monster's gone He's on the run And your daddy's here

Chapter one

She loved the stars. 

Ever since she was very, very small she loved to stare up at the endless sky above, dark and mysterious and glowing and shimmering with swirls of color and tiny specks of light.

She believed there was an entire galaxy out there, and wanted more than anything just to see it for herself. A dream, she knew, that was foolhardy. 

Her phone chirped in her pocket—a crappy old model that she'd scrounged up enough to purchase—and she tore her gaze away from her window that she sat staring at the sky from and looked at the tiny, cracked screen. 

Be at work in twenty minutes, Janet is down today. 

The screen read a text from her boss. 

She sighed and got up, heading to her bedroom in the tiny apartment to grab her shoes and coat. It was a fifteen minute ride by subway alone, not only that but the walking time. 

She made sure she had everything and headed towards the door. Looking down she saw that the newspaper had been slipped into her mail slot. She hadn't even noticed she'd been so busy with her daydreaming. 

She quickly picked it up and slapped it onto the table, flipping it open to see the front page—which she hoped would have something to do with S.H.I.E.L.D or at least Tony Stark, the weapons designer turned peace-maker, he couldn't seem to stay out of the papers for more than a week. 

Nothing. Only that Nick Fury was rumored to be starting something called "The Avengers initiative" . 

She sighed and dropped the paper, re-collecting her jacket and phone, then heading out the door and running to the elevator. 

She punched the button and felt it begin to drop. 

Once it had started moving she leaned against the wall, pulling her headphones out and slipping them into her ears before clicking around on her phone. 

I'm looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed

Oh God, it feels like forever

But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home

Sitting all alone inside your head

She sighed deeply as the voice filled her head, walking out of the elevator and briskly down the halls, the trek to her work the last thing she wanted to do this late and for what?

She was eighteen-years-old and had nothing. No life, nothing to look forward to. 

Once she'd made it into the dark streets of New York she looked up at the Stark tower, glowing its usual hue in the dark. Longing filled her heart and she didn't know why. She supposed it was because she always dreamt of heroism. Even if that was a fever dream with no possible way of ever happening.

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed

All I know is that it feels like forever

When no one ever tells you that forever feels like home

Sitting all alone inside your head

She wondered what it would be like: to be a real hero, was it scary? 

And even now, knowing that the chances were slim, she still wondered in the back of her mind what it would be like to meet one. 

How do you feel? That is the question

But I forget you don't expect an easy answer

When something like a soul becomes initialized

And folded up like paper dolls and little notes

You can't expect a bit of hope

So while you're outside looking in

Describing what you see

Remember what you're staring at is me

She finally looked away from the glowing tower and kept waking, trying to move a bit faster. 

She ran to the crosswalk and waited a moment, looking back up at the sky and shoving her hands deep in her pockets. 

She crossed over and ran towards her work, pushing the door open and slowing her walk as all the machinery and projects cast their shadows onto the walls. 

She wondered from time to time what the point of all these machines were, but chose not to ask much. 

How much is real? So much to question

An epidemic of the mannequins

Contaminating everything

We thought came from the heart

It never did right from the start

Just listen to the noises

(Null and void instead of voices)

Before you tell yourself

It's just a different scene

Remember it's just different from what you've seen

She stripped her coat and hung it up, looking around for anyone to be there, no one seemed to be around—which was odd considering her boss had texted her twenty minutes ago telling her to be there. 

I'm looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed

And all I know is that it feels like forever

When no one ever tells you that forever feels like home

Sitting all alone inside your head

She noticed someone had left their work station open, all of the tools and parts were still laying there so she walked over to look. 

She picked up two pieces, cogs turning in her mind. 

Then she grabbed the tools. 

One piece to fit in another, configuring different materials and working out something from nothing, she wasn't really sure where or how she had ever learned these things. 

And it's the stars

The stars that shine for you

And it's the stars

The stars that lie to you, yeah-ah

Before she even realized what she was doing she had made a small glowing object, she realized she had subconsciously made an armatures version of Iron Man's projectors. 

But that didn't mean she could help lifting it up to try it out. A smile spread across her face when she did. 

And it's the stars

The stars that shine for you

And it's the stars

The stars that lie to you, yeah-ah

A small blue blast hit the wall from it but barely made a dent. She guessed that was better, considering she would be in big trouble for messing around where she wasn't supposed to be— 

A door slammed and she jumped with the sudden noise, having no time to put down her creation, she put her hand into her pocket. 

Her boss, Carlson, came walking in with an air to him she hadn't ever known before, but she couldn't place the feeling of it. 

"Tessa," he said, looking at her in such a way she thought maybe he already knew about her tinkering and was telling her that. 

"Sir, I'm—"

"It had to be this way."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What?"

"But you always said you wanted more in life, right?"

"What are you talking about..?"

A grind came from behind her followed by running footsteps, four men in heavy uniform came in behind her. 

HYDRA symbols on their chests...

She whipped her head to them then to her boss. 

"What—why..?"

"Look, this company is failing to begin with, the amount of money they offered me for the employee I had that was most of a nobody is enough to make it thrive."

"No..." 

"I wish it didn't have to be this way."

She couldn't speak for fear, but instinct snapped when the first man moved. 

She jumped out of the way, ripping her hand out of her pocket. Her hand glowed with a soft whine and a little blast flew from it, it hit the man in the chest and electrified him. 

She did it again to the second and started running, she had to get out of there. 

The men were after her, she could hear weapons shaking as they ran but she grabbed the top of a table and slid under, crawling along the wall and getting out on the other side to keep running. She turned and aimed her hand again, but it only whirred and faded. Dead already. 

She grunted in frustration and kept going. 

Almost to the door... almost—

A hard blast to her head put her down, electricity engulfed her body and she screamed. 

The last thing she saw was men in all black coming down to her and some kind of mask being pressed against her face. 

Whirring...

Needles...

Lights...

Sharp pain...

Muffled voices...

Machinery...

Blood, so much blood. 

Steel. Cold. Hard. Metal. 

The whisper of her breath from the mask, but the air was cold. 

Everything was cold. 

The hard, soulless eyes, the room, the tools, the hands that remade her body.

There was still some part of consciousness that whispered the same question: why?

Why me? 

Another painful bolt of energy tore through her being, making tears slide down her emaciated cheeks. 

But she couldn't scream. Not anymore. 

Ten months. Ten long months of this, of dismantling, injecting, reconfiguring and assembling every piece of her body again and again until the perfection they spoke of came to be. 

The man in purple said she had to perfect. Perfect for... him. The dark, strange man that came once to see her. 

Eventually the machines shut off, and she was pushed inside of the pill-shaped chamber back to her cell. 

Her eyes could only move as the world slid away above the glass she was trapped in, she couldn't see anything but the white walls and the occasional room that passed. 

One room held something she knew to call symbiotes, creatures that were being tortured just as much as she was. In fact, she could see them scraping up the remains of a dead one as they passed. 

Yet another poor soul that couldn't withstand the pain and the cruelty of this place. 

Once they had made it to the cell they opened the chamber, pulling off her tubes and throwing her into the small metal box that was her only home beside the chamber. 

After the heavy door clanged shut she just laid there on the ground for a long time, unable to move and pain ripping through every part of her when she did try. 

Her body felt heavy and cold, foreign. 

But she knew some of the changes because she could already use them, her sight and hearing were much better—but only let her hear the screams of creatures from far away—same with smell and feeling. 

But the last two were far from helpful when pain was her life and the rancid smell of blood and bodily fluids tainted every inch of this place.

Eventually, she made it to sit up, body shaking and tears filling her eyes from pain. 

She looked across the cell and saw a rusted tray with the strange white clumps that would be her meal. Even though she knew she was starving she had no desire to eat, her body had become so weak that she barely thought she could hold real food anymore... not that she remembered it much. 

Really, there wasn't much she remembered. She only thought maybe she knew her name because there was a scraped-out word on the wall of her cell: Tessa. 

She wondered if she put that there and if that was her name. 

Other than that, everything else was gone. 

Who she was, where she came from, what she liked or could do. 

All gone. 

She didn't even remember her home. 

Here in space, was all she knew. 

What was the point of this, anyways? This torture? She knew all of the horrors would continue promptly in about nine hours in which she doubted she'd sleep at all. 

Managing to push herself up against the wall she curled up and shivered. 

Why was she always so cold? 

Fear had become a constant thing. Never ending fear and sadness. And when she felt it extremely, she felt heavier, and like she was sitting on ice. 

She glanced down at her fingers when they felt stiff, and her heart twisted in shock. 

Her hand....

It was silver, like it was made of metal... 

She gasped and shook her head, surely it was just a hallucination... the stress and starvation could do that right? 

When she looked again it was gone, but something told her it wasn't completely gone. 

She shut her eyes, desperately wanting to just sleep and try to heal, but every stitch mark and every permanent scar seemed to ache whenever she tried. 

She wasn't sure how long passed, but her eyes snapped open when there was a deep rumble, making the structure shiver. 

She jumped at the sound and listened, it sounded like pounding on the outside and multiple smaller thumps afterward. 

She could hear shouting—followed by blasting and shaking. 

Voices. There were deep, rasping voices out there. 

She crawled back into the corner, shaking in fear as the sounds of fighting continued. 

Shattering glass and pounding. Screaming and blaster-shots. 

Then a thump outside of her cell. Her heart stopped. 

The sound of an electric pulse and the door slid open. There were two burly men in scrappy clothing standing in the doorway, guns on hand.

Even greater fear clamped down on her heart by the sight of them, they looked like they could rip someone apart and like killing was their profession. 

"Hey, look at this," One of them called, voice as gruff as their look. 

Within the next few moments a thinner man with spiked hair appeared in the doorway, he looked... more kind... it was odd. But he didn't seem like the others. His grey-blue eyes considered her for a moment, from confused to concerned, and he shook his head. "Hey, Cap'n, you might wanna come check this out." He called out as he entered her cell. 

She pushed herself farther back into the corner, whimpering in fear despite his obvious concern. 

"Hey, it's alright," he said a little softly. "I ain't gonna hurt you." He put his hand out to his side and set down his gun. "See?" 

She swallowed, wanting to believe beyond anything that he was here to help, but couldn't. 

"What is it, Kraglin?" Another hard voice came from the door. 

She turned her head slowly to look and see a man with blue skin that looked just as rugged as the others, only a bit older. 

His blood-red eyes seemed almost shocked when they saw her but the longer he stared the more disgusted his expression became, but somehow she could tell the disgust wasn't directed towards her, but the situation she was in. 

He walked in and stood by a crouched down Kraglin, still looking at the shaking girl in question. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could have swore she saw the blue man swallow hard before he spoke. 

"You found her like this?" he asked. 

Kraglin nodded. "Pretty sure she's been here a while, some pretty nasty marks on her... what do ya reckon we do?" 

"Can't just leave a kid here,"

"We was payed to bring in an asset from this place, you reckon she's it?" 

"I don't care. We're takin' her with us." 

"But, Cap'n, this is exactly what got us into this mess—"

"I ain't sellin' her! This is different. This kid's a slave, no kid deserves that..." she saw his eye flicker with some kind of darkness. "Besides, not like much'll be different about the situation now." 

Kraglin nodded again, "So what do ya aim to do with her?" 

The older man turned to look at the bigger men still standing in the doorway. "You, I want every cell opened, see if there's more. Tear this place apart." They nodded and left, then he looked back to his apparently-first mate. "Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah, but she ain't saying nothin'. Looks real awful though, poor kid..." 

She could understand most of what they said, some words didn't quite come through anymore... as if she had just forgotten language she used to know without thought. She wasn't sure what to make of these... she couldn't think of what to call them, the one man—Kraglin, the apparent-leader had called him—seemed trustworthy, the blue one seemed so disgusted by the whole thing that she felt maybe he really did want to hurt her, but honestly she would rather die in her cell than being abused by men. 

The captain looked at her and held out his hand slowly, she flinched but couldn't move any farther into the corner. "It's alright, we ain't gonna do anything to you. Just calm down and we're gonna get you out, okay?" 

Something in his eyes made her know it really was okay, but when she moved her arm from underneath herself she only collapsed to the ground. Pain seared through her, making tears well back up into her eyes as she bit her lips to not cry out. 

"Cap'n, I don't think she can move..." 

"Go make sure the others are doing as I said."

"She'll die if we leave her here," 

"I never said I was leaving her. Go." 

He nodded slowly and left. 

"You got a name?" he asked, slowly moving to put his arm under her shoulders. She winced and tried to open her mouth to speak, but her voice was raw, so she just moved her eyes towards the spot that name was on the wall and he saw it. "Tessa," he smirked a little, a sad smile, getting her legs up and lifting. "I'm Yondu, and you're gonna be safe."

She wanted to say something, wanted to thank him or ask him a hundred questions, but she just couldn't make her vocal cords cooperate, she was too weak and tired and had screamed so much that it hurt even to breathe, but now, hearing the Captain telling her it was alright and being actually rescued from this horrible place made all of the pain she was in a side thought. 

Her head sagged against his shoulder when he readjusted to start from the room, it felt hard and warm and reassuring. She wasn't very heavy, probably about seventy pounds—extremely underweight, but for now it would help getting them out quicker. 

Yondu adjusted the girl's hands so that she could hold onto his neck but she only managed a small grip on his coat, not much but he knew she wouldn't even be able to stand if he let her. 

The structure was beginning to shake a little from the blasting the other Ravagers were doing, hopefully they had checked every single cell for another victim like her. 

He started off down the hallways and was met by Kraglin soon, he sided up to his captain and began going over results. 

"No other kids found, sir. But we did find a few other test subjects but I dunno if we should let 'em out..." 

"Th—the... sym—biotes..." she mumbled, really forcing it so much that both men looked shocked. "L—let them..." Her voice was shaking from both her body doing the same, and the foreignness of speaking. 

"Let them out." Yondu finished for her. 

Kraglin took off his loose over-coat and put it over her shaking figure. "She don't look so good," he said. 

Yondu stiffened his jaw and kept moving, "I want this place ready to blow the second we're off it!" He ordered his crew.

Tess drug her eyes up at the sound of charging weapons somewhere down the hall they'd just went through, it was the security for the lab, all cyborgs, all with weapons trained on them. 

"Hands up and drop the subject!" A robotic voice demanded. 

Yondu stopped but didn't turn around. "Come and get her." He growled so low she tightened her grip. 

With that, he let out a sharp whistle and an arrow streaking scarlet light behind it went flying at them, twisting and curving to tear through every one of them, dismantling them in the process. 

Tess let out a hard breath of a gasp, seeing how one man had just done the work of twenty. 

He kept on moving towards the airlock, arrow flying around still, tearing through not only the cyborgs but throughout the labs and rooms, just destroying everything in its reach, making small explosions and little fires start. 

She heard Kraglin yell something to them but his voice was muffled, it felt like speed picked up and she was being passed from Yondu to someone else, by the feel of their arms she thought it was Kraglin. The pain of movement made her head spin but she wanted to stay awake. 

She remembered small, short images of metal and other faces, being passed back again and carried slowly. 

At some point she just couldn't hold her consciousness anymore and blacked out. The muffled words of 'it's going to be okay' echoed through her head in the dark vortex.

[luck-and-larceny]

(I haven't written anything in awhile, so I'm just going to start throwing words onto this post and hope they turn into something...)

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not usually in the business of being kind.

I'm not usually in any business, actually. I'm work averse! No business. All pleasure, thanks.

But if I were to be described as being in some kind of business it wouldn't typically be acts of service to other people. It's a waste of time expending so much energy for no personal benefit, so what I've been doing lately is, frankly, absolutely out of character. I don't even know why I'm doing this.

Well, no. That's not entirely true. I'm doing this because she said she doesn't believe she matters to anyone. She said if she disappeared no one would notice.

As someone who disappears for a living (not as a real job– we've already discussed that– but often as a means to stay living) my first thought was, “No one noticing if you disappear is kind of the whole point.” But I understood what she meant. She wanted people to think about her when she wasn't around.

I suppose I should mention I don't really know anything at all about this woman. Or at least I didn't. She didn't tell me any of that. She told her diary which she'd left open on her bedside table on the evening I'd snuck in to steal from her. And of course I read it! Did you really think I'd draw some kind of line on my willingness to invade privacy when breaking and entering? Come on.

And wasn't I irrefutable proof that someone thought about her when she wasn't around? Thinking about her being around or not being around occupied a lot of space in my brain! Would she appreciate it if I left a note saying as much? “Hey! I definitely noticed your absence!-- Your Thief!”

Probably not.

The point is: I felt bad for her. I wanted this stranger to feel important. So I put back everything I was going to steal and left her place exactly as it was before I'd entered.

Ha! That's a joke. Obviously, I'd never do that.

I stole a page from the diary on which she'd tested brush strokes. No words. Just a series of vertical lines to get used to how much pressure the quill required. A useless page from an intensely personal document. Just my style. I left a bottle of dark red ink. If she saw it she might think, “I don't remember buying that…” but it'd be so innocuous it'd probably never occur to her someone had been there and left it behind.

But to the point: I couldn't stop thinking about her diary. She said she had difficulty opening up to people because she just didn't feel very interesting. She worked all day and afterwards she went back home. She had no hobbies or skills. She had no friends. She had no family.

She had a crush at work, but she felt too awkward to start a conversation with her. She wanted to try making pottery, but thought it'd be too expensive to get into. She couldn't take time off work for the classes anyway.

Well.

Well.

Lucky for her, she's got herself a brand new Robber Godmother ready to make all her wishes come true via crime spree!

First, stalking. I spent about a week watching her at her job at a bakery. I watched her boss. Her co-workers. Her crush. They made really adorable cakes and pastries in the shape of little woodland creatures. So right away I could confirm that, without a doubt, she was an idiot.

No skills!? Bitch, you just spent the day making a cake that looks like a nutkin. I'm lucky when I make a cake that looks like a fucking cake!

It didn't take too long to figure out who the crush was. There was a wildly attractive woman who worked there who commanded the attention of every single person in every room she walked into.

Except Lana (my mark). While everyone else looked at the cake goddess, Lana was always looking at someone else.

And I was going to make sure that someone else started looking at Lana too.

[soft-lilith]

Cursed dating profile

Ok guys, i have no idea how I have stumbled onto something like this, but I need to post about it.

I was scrolling through a small dating app call "Boo" and got a profile which is... it's bad. It makes my flight our fight go off, hundreds of alarm bells.

(I translated the text with DeepL because I can't be bothered to do it myself. I'm german but his way of writing feels so... incoherent? Wrong? Also like he was on drugs???)

Search here for true love and often read that it has become a rarity. I often see how it exists in everyone in one way or another. Hm, and I want to find her, my dream woman. I write a lot to reach her. I miss her. Pants up, sweater down, cuddling. So much more. I show myself meticulously here. I know that. Women and men tell me “show me you don't need her, then she'll come”… doesn't feel right. I admit, I'm less well without her. That's why I've been writing a love letter for months. I haven't touched myself for six months. No more desire? I'm full of fantasies of sexual togetherness in privacy. The love letter is perverse. I'm waiting for her and I realize that, as strange as it may sound, every day in my head, in bed, in my stomach and in my shorts. It's honest and so much about my character. I try to be very honest and that's hard. Faithful. That because I want my wife with me so much that I write about. www.frau-wundervoll-liest.de … What does the last picture on the “Intimate around the clock” page say? I want to get to know her. Even closer. Because then who sees me with love. Hopefully I'll find out who I'm making this love letter puzzle website for. If you need help, write to me. Good luck and all the best

Here are a few hurdles I encountered on the way to finding her. She reads, is elegant, is faithful, loving, has decency and likes some intensities of eroticism very much. How do I describe her character trait to show her how much we fit together? Show how much I like it too? That I catch her eye? without scaring her away

Describe eroticism with a heart in a lovely, loving way. I want her full attention. Crotch-warm (??????) head love, eyes in view, legs felt, hair seen, bottom touched. Preference. Physically. Berolle. Lovingly. Feel my lip, stay with me. Mountains, brooks, basket, pit, cork, construction bump. Lip fill. Bend. Pull, high mountain reach. Come, sea come. Love.

We speak quite differently. The texts perhaps roughly describe our nature, which lives its true beauty far beyond that.

I am looking for a woman who wants to be with me. Constantly. Who wants to love me in her relationship, as her husband, her own boyfriend and best friend all in one. Seduces me playfully and focuses on me. Wants to be and stay young with me. Looking for our shoulders when we cry. Intrusively affectionate. Love long walks. Laugh. Love each other.

I can love particularly well and be terribly shy. Does this sentence make sense if it's true? How difficult it is for me to find the right thing, the barrel of words…Difficult sentence structure, oh intelligence. A woman who scares others away and opens the door for me while I remain her gentleman. Leads me to bed, lies down with me, holds my hand and looks me in the eye. A woman who extends our time together, not shortens it. A woman who cares about love as much as I do. A woman who wants to cuddle and pull me back into bed when I get up. A woman who likes the warmth of my body and makes me happy. Crotch warm..head love. A woman who wants to focus completely on me. A dream woman for her dream man. Body language, movements, touch, sensitive despite beauty, full of healthy, protected jealousy. We want to find her.

Halbe Bible, ganzer Hurensohn. (half of a bible, a full on asshole)

Mind you, this man is 27. how, how the fuck. What is going on? Ok so to the web side (which looks like ass), for a love letter to his dream woman.

A fairy tale, baptized into truth. Love. So many are looking for. A hyper-intimate fairy tale, designed for 2 adults? A sweet one for a couple. Love should feel beautiful. Falling in love should tingle. Flirting should be fun, even if you're shy. Love. The reins of two lovers love together in firm hands. Hand in hand. Leaf in front of your mouth, get wet, woman of my life, love of my life, take it from my lips and lead our relationship together. A hot sweeper is looking for his enchanting cleaning fairy. Secretly places half-full cups on the edge of the table. The peppercorns drip onto the floor. Not too dirty, not too messy. Sometimes you need to clean. With feeling. With love. Secret and obvious love letters. This is the beginning of both of our stories, crushes on the future, vacation destinations, poetry “We” and also, yes… lots and lots of eroticism. A strange feeling to read about it so publicly? That's fine, even after happy dates you should go to your safe haven and away from the public, into the privacy of loving togetherness. Love is. Your bodies stay together in the garage and the two of you drive yourselves to happiness. This guy here can be very shy. Protective purpose. A self-assured insecurity. Full of previously contained intimate, physically sensual desires and needs. At the same time, seek love in a partnership that makes attachment, affection, jealousy, concentration and a tendency to isolate together with your partner not a problem, but much more a beautiful lifestyle and love style of two lovers come true. Is that your story? No short fun, much more long-lasting love. Seems like a very warm potato and wants to be kept warm. Stay warm.

Btw this sounds a loooot better than it does in German. Maybe it's also the translator which makes his word vomit into something readable but dear lord. I hate the word ick. I really do. But this? This is giving me the ICK

I'm almost tempted to write him just to find out what kind of person he has to be to act this way. But like I said, he makes me want to run away and my gut feeling are mostly on point.

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again.)

Hey Janus I’m back. So Remus seems to be doing okay. He’s struggling a bit but he seems to be in control and was up for talking. I won’t tell you exactly what he said incase he views that as a breach of trust but I can tell you he doesn’t seem like he’s in serious danger or anything like that.

Now about that kiss. He said he enjoyed it and would be happy to do it again. I’m summarising of course, he had much more to say about it than just that. But rest assured he seemed very pleased by it.

Glow Eyes

(there are sexual acts partly described under the read more. It’s not smut but it’s a scene that takes place right before/after sex so it is quite nsfw. No major plot points will be missed if u skip it. Also I am too tired to proofread sorry)

Janus was groggily looking around. You hadn't woken them up but they had half woken up just before since the bed had felt weirdly empty. They still only had a one person bed so when they and Remy slept crammed up together it was very noticeably if one of them left.

Your soft light made it easier for them to look around. The only other light shone in through a slight crack in the bedroom door. Janus squinted at you while yawning.

"Come to show me christmas past and present?" They asked sarcastically.

For a moment they got distracted as they could swear they heard Remy's muffled voice. They'd assumed their partner had just gone off for some water but it sounded more like they were taking a phone call.

Janus shook it off and tried to focus as you talked. He appreciated that you didn't tell him anything you hadn't gotten permission from Remus to tell.

When you told him about how Remus had reacted to the kiss you couldn't help but notice that the blanket suddenly moved a lot as Janus excitedly kicked his feet around while grinning.

"Thanks for the information darling. I will talk to him about it as soon as I see him"

A sigh of relief left their lips as they turned to their back. Their cheeks were too flushed and their brain too excited to fall back asleep right now so they continued to read a murder mystery laying on the bedsidetable.

They hadn't gotten much longer than a page before the bedroom door quietly glided open and Remy crept in. Their footsteps were nearly silent and he hated the thought of why they had had to learn to be so silent.

Their eyewhites stood out like candlelights in the dark. They leant down as their hand fumbled after the blanket. Janus reached out and let their fingertips meet.

"Good morning deary. Heard some talking just now. Is it anything serious or are you hiring an assasian on me?"

Remy instantly went pale and their eyes stared downwards to avoid his gaze "Sorry I like woke you up-"

"I'm not mad at you!" Janus quickly clarified "You can make as many phone calls in the middle of the bloody night as you want to. And you speaking didn't wake me. I'm not angry. This isn't an interogation. You don't even have to tell me who you talked to"

Their shoulders relaxed as they sat down on the edge of the bed. Their fingers intertwined with his "It was one of Rowan's friends I think? She had an australian accent?" They started to smile "She asked if I could help tailor some of her clothes"

"Huh. Word must have spread about your prowness"

Remy snorted "I'm guessing Remus like told Rowan to go round telling people bout me so I wouldn't be like totally workless"

"I'm glad either way" His fingers played against his partner's wrist as he watched them in the dim night light "Since when did you start sleeping without a shirt on? I feel like I would quite clearly remember if you always did that or not"

They gnawed onto the inside of their cheek as they blushed slightly "I just kinda had like weird fucking dysphoria 'bout my chest like 24/7 before. I did't like showing it- AND Like girl I KNOW nothing has like changed since I started E or anything it just like kinda feels different. I feel more...comfy y'know?"

"In my humble opinion you look good"

"Yeah better than you sleeping in fucking pyjamas like some ghost from the 1800 century!"

"Quite sure they wore nightgowns to bed during the 1800s"

Remy waved the fact of while rolling their eyes. They gave Janus a big wet smooch while he moved the blanket over so they could get under it. They cuddled down on top of him so they were laying chest to chest.

"I must admit darling I do find you excedingly attractive. The only reason I have been taken it so slow with my advances is because I don't want to make you feel pressured into anything"

"What a fancy way to say you're horny"

"I will literally die if I'm not extra and formal at the same time"

His hand was leant against his partner's waist with his fingers playing with the waistband of their underwear. He leant close and whispered something private into their ear that made them turn all red.

He moved his other hand around their shoulder, moving his fingers up and down their spine. They in turn sneaked their hands up under his pjyama shirt.

"It's only right then for you to like take your shirt of for like equiality and stuff" Remy said while rubbing their nose against his.

He met them in a kiss "Can't argue against that"

Remy thought their partner's vitiligo patches were so hot. They were like little maps pointing out where to kiss him. They let their tongue fall against the skin of his nipple and they could hear his heart beating out through the layers of skin tissue and bones.

Janus murmured out a question of what they preferred and they got so caught of guard they stopped nibbling at his chest. ‘Been a while since I was asked’ They said before actually mumbling out a response to his question. He looked at them with the entire confidence of an amateur baker having to make a weeding cake ‘I’ll try my best’

Things continued as they usually did in moments like this. They started to tug at the lining of his pyama pants but it didn’t budge since not only he was laying down but they were laying on top of him. They let him move them to their back so their head was hanging off the side of the bed so he could take the pants off leaving him in his underwear.

He remembred the way they would flinch if anyone got too close to touching their neck so instead he focused his kisses against their waist, the sharp bones sticking up, the movement of their ribs as they breathed. When Remy’s hands weren’t busy they bit on their nails while heir eyes searched for his which made Jan turn all kinds of shades of red.

He tried to as smoothly possible reach otu and fumble his hand around on the nightstand while continuing to kiss them. He accidentally knocked his book down before managing to get the drawer open only to find out it was empty aside from a pair of reserve glasses Logan had left at his place.

Janus pressed himself up by his hans into a half sitting position and his eyes stagnated as he tried to think. “Lubes gone”

“GIRL!?”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off as Janus remembred where it was. He tried to stand up from the bed so quickly he fell down onto the floor. He tried to look cool and sexy as he got up and dusted himself off.

“Going to the kitchen!”

“Why the hell is your lube in the fucking kitchen!?” Remy exclaimed.

“Logan was over for dinner and he brought red wine!” Janus yelled out as an explanation while leaving the room.

Remy pouted to themself while waiting. They tried a few different ways of laying to maybe surprise him with their supposed hotness before cringing at themself and just sitting awkwardly in the middle of the bed. The poked at the part of the blanket that was still helplessly hanging onto the bed until it completely fell down to the floor.

The door suddenly fully opened and it took a second before Remy realized Janus must have just moved it with their foot. Jan leant against the doorframe while trying to spin their underwear around the finger in a suave way but really they were just surprised at how cold the wind in the apartment was when all nude.

Remy whissled to try to encourage them and held their arms out as Jan plopped down on the bed again. They set the lube aside while laying down beside them.

“Hi” Jan murmured.

“Hello” Their finger was stroking circles against his chest. “....Could I be on my stomach?...Please?...Sometimes it feels weird to like look each other in the eyes and stuff while fucking”

“If that makes you more comfortable, sure” 

He felt their cold hands run down past his back as he leant in to kiss them.

,

At first when Remy bit down into the bedsheet Janus thought it meant they were enjoying it. It took some more time, mostly because he had his face pressed against the sweaty skin on their back as he kissed them, before he noticed anything more.

Trembling could be normal during sex but their body had gone so stiff and them so eerily quiet Janus decided to stop. His first thought was to grab onto the blanket and hold it out to them in case they wanted to cover themself.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He asked.

Remy rolled over onto their back and looked up at him with half opened eyes “nah babe” Parts of their limbs were still twitching.

“Am I....hurting you?” His voice cracked in the middle as he asked. His hands reaching out to hold theirs.

“No!” They shook their head as hard as they could “Babe you’re not doing anything. My body just gets all hurt if I excersise and like sex is a form of excersise aint it. It’s my back mostly””

“I’m sorry dear, I got so caught up in the moment I forgot to consider-”

“it’s cool” Remy waved it off “It’s always like this. You can just continue till you’re done”

“But you’d be in-” Janus stopped for a moment as they realized “....Were you trying to hide your face from me...so I would’nt be able to tell you were in pain?”

“Having your partner look all in pain tots breaks the mood doesn’t it. Look I’m sorry I really don’t mean to ruing the mood like this and like complain about my stupid pain. I know how annoying it is to like stop midway through so you can just keep going. It’s fine”

Janus’ first instinct was to loudly proclaim what bullshit that was before they realized Remy probably wouldn’t be convinced by that sort of argument. They laid next to their partner so their faces were close together and instead said

“I won’t be able to be pleasured if I know you are in a pain you dont want to be in because of it”

“I’m sorry”

“Hey now darling. We have two decent brains. If we work together I am sure we will be able to figure out ways to make this work” 

He pressed a gentle kiss against their cheek while his hand moved down to lightly massage the spot near their spine he knew it usually hurt the worse. They in turn let out a giggle of glee as they let their hands run down past his back and grab onto his soft skin.

“There’s less chance of your pain getting flared up if you’re sitting up right, correct?”

“Yeah babe”

“Easy then” He kissed their ear before murmuring out “You could sit on the bed with your back against the wall and I could ride you or-”

The two of them continued to whisper out ideas like that while hands trailed down to crotches and kisses were given, but the details aren’t necessery.

“The pain is like subsiding now Jannnnie”

The way they dragged out the sounds of his name made him blush as he asked to be sure if they wanted to continue. They laid on their back as they mumbled out a yes before feeling kisses being pressed against their stomach as Janus moved down.

--

“Girlie I did not think you would be this slow in the shower”

“I have at least 30% more skin to clean than you do you walking stickbug”

Remy didn’t have to ask for help to get out of the shower. Janus simply reached out his hand and let them lean on him as their unsteady legs moved out onto the bathtowel laying on the bathroom floor.

It was the middle of the night by now but neither of them had wanted to go to sleep before getting cleaned up. Remy dried their hair while hearing their partner hum some show tune as he cleaned off the soap.

Janus couldn’t see them anymore since the shower curtain was in the way but he could hear them sit down on the tiled floor. He was just about done when he heard them say

“Jannybabe?”

“Yeah?”

“....I think I might be asexual”

“Was I that bad” He answered sarcastically.

He could immediately hear as their breathing nearly stopped and their body rushed to get up, to get away, to get somewhere safe “I’m like SO sorry I didn’t mean it like-”

“It was a stupid comment Remy. Excuse me, I couldn’t hold back my snark” He turned the water off and moved the curtain to meet their eyes “I’m not mad at you. Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me”

“Thanks- uhm thanks for like taking it well”

“Does your asexuality change anything? Should I change how I act in any way?”

“Nah uhm I don’t think I’m like uhm Remus I just like- I did enjoy what we did I just like never get the urge to do it unless like you wanna or something”

“But you’re not repulsed by sex or anything? Because trust me you don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I still have Logan to go to and even if I didn’t I am an adult who can handle my own desires”

“No- No Babe I don’t mind. I just dunno how often I will be in the mood. I’m not like the every day type of person I guess but I uh I like liked your thighs. They’re soft and kissable and hot and I think it’s adorable that you got like a vitiligo patch on your butt and stuff and yeah I think I could go on ‘cause your body is good real good and stuff like yeah uhm”

Janus snorted “Thanks darling. You can go sleep if you want to, I’ll just finish showering real quick”

“I’ll wait”

A few minutes later he heard Remy quietly laughing to themself so he stuck his head out again to see what was going on. They waved it off.

“Nothing. Nothing. Remus is just pulling an all nighter and texted me it’s just like a week left till his art show”

Another airy fit of laughter left them.

“And also- And this is stupid but-” 

And here they let up into the kind of smile that reaches the eyes.

“I realized, I think I’m happy”

[jack-bytez-genuine-corner]

Sleepy ramblings: The Grass is Always Greener

It's 2:50 am, and I can't sleep. Having a fear of sleep is honestly stupid but it's the hand I've been dealt. Anyways, I think I just realized something about why my attempts at visual art never felt right and I think it has to do with the fact that I can't visualize things in my mind. Normally when others draw they can actually picture something in their head, but I simply can't. If I think the word "Apple" with my eyes closed I can't see an apple, it's just a black void behind my eyes. Then when I open them, it's just the world. I can draw from the world, sure, I think anyone with enough time can do great art of the world they see if that's what they want to do and are willing to work on that craft but that's not what I wanted to do, ever.

I've always wanted to draw a fantastical world that just isn't real and when I did that it never came out feeling authentic. To me, it always looked incomplete, bad, like a mimic of what I really wanted. One time I wanted to draw a wizard's study. I could describe the smell, the dimensions, the tactile feel of old, dusty books on a smooth wooden table, the faint smell of sweet apples on a mid summers day while the crackling fire place danced a few feet away in a nice, warm green color but the second I put pencil to paper to draw it everything fell apart. This really devastated 12 year old me, and has been a thing I've struggled with long prior but I didn't give up and took a lot of different art classes.

You can probably guess how it turned out. I struggled with it for over a decade, now 24 I've practically dropped the dream I once had at visually creating that world, and that's ok. I will never be able to produce a visual of a fantastical world that I could hear and feel. All the art I've produced felt very stringent, measured, and that's cause it literally was. I could do a great job copying what I see onto paper, the exact height of a man at a distance, like when I was in tag football at 6 I'd go exactly that distance coach said, but that's all it was: Following a guideline. If I drew a staff, it wasn't that staff I wanted to see but just one I've already seen, if it was a hat it would just be a hat I've seen, a dragon no more unique than the one you'd see on a discount coffee cup. No matter the subject or time I put into a piece, it always looked like a copy. Every time I noticed this I became depressed and would sigh with regret. The things in my head felt like mine, and if I focused real hard I could even feel them, but every time I tried to put that onto a blank page, what came out was never "Mine" but someone else's. Last time I drew was around March, a gift for my dad that I thought looked passable for once but it still just didn't feel like "Me", it just looked like another thing I've seen before spat out onto a page.

And that's ok. I can't fret on what I don't have when I can appreciate what I do. Maybe if I could picture things in my head I'd still look at what I draw with a sigh like I do now. If I woke up tomorrow and could draw that study, would I feel any better? After all, I love seeing what others make, and if I could make my own would I care to like / reblog / share the works of others, all of which I find at minimum enjoyable and often awe inspiring and would my ability to create diminish that? The grass truly is greener on the other side, and maybe we all can't have what we want the way we want it. I want to see fantastical places but it's not a thing I can ever do on my own, and while I can never visit my own fantastical world I can at least see the worlds others make, whether it be grizzly from a vent piece or cuddly of a sparkledog or even just a nice garden to sit in to read.

Honestly don't know why I wrote this. Maybe I just hope others will see this and remember to be thankful for the gifts you do have or the good things around you. Sometimes things suck but that silver lining is important, ya know?

[naturepointstheway]

Link to podcast episode (bring tissues!): https://www.podchaser.com/podcasts/a-with-mo-rocca-781161/episodes/timothy-scott-death-of-a-dance-163442211

Be warned that ads also pop up in unexpected places, but not too bad thankfully. There is also a lot of discussion of the context of AIDS crisis as well as Tim dying of AIDS. TW for a brief mention of suicide (only one line but wanted to add a trigger warning nevertheless.)

-----

Okay now I'm listening to it, and I love the opening as the narrator opens out with a captivating story of his memories of seeing Broadway shows as a teen, including the very original cast of Cats. He had loved the show so much he wrote to every member of that cast twice, and one of who responded was, you guessed, Timothy Scott. The narrator, Morroca, also puts it squarely into the context of the AIDS crisis that was happening at the time; it had taken four dancers in their prime including Timothy.

Incidentally the podcast took place on Feb 15 2023, and it includes the voices of Norman Buckley, Betty Buckley, and our very beloved Ken Page.

Right onto some highlights and gems:

Ken Page remembering a moment when they were both teens in another musical together (yes, they'd performed together even before Cats!) and what Tim Scott had said then: "I want to be the best dancer on Broadway." And Ken's response that yeah he wanted to be on Broadway too was great.

According to Betty Buckley, initially they didn't want to cast her as Griz because she "radiated health and wellbeing" and they wanted someone who radiated "death and dying."

Ken Page's words to Tim on the first rehearsal of Cats: "Well I guess you're officially one of the greatest best dancers on Broadway." Ken is the best, honestly.

Loving how Betty described how she felt an inexplicable sense of breathless joy when watching Timothy dance for the first time, and had wondered at how he could dance so well.

Ken (I think): "He had these amazing eyes...like blue beans. He also had this mysteriousness around him, that was always there."

Initially, Betty had no idea that her brother Norman was actually gay--it wasn't something they had necessarily discussed, especially since being gay was something of a stigma back then too.

Norman liked going up on the catwalk at the end of the show when Griz ascended on the big tyre, and also where Timothy would descend for "Mr Mistoffelees"--and says for the longest time the latter had no idea he was even there until one day, he looked back at Norman and they had this, in his words, "long meaningful moment." Norman was very spellbound especially by his intense eyes, and also was a lot taller compared to Timothy (6'1" and 5'7" respectively).

Only a few days later Norman actually went to Tim's dressing room and asked him out for dinner which just makes my heart melt.

Apparently very early, even during the preview run of Cats, Timothy was visiting a friend dying from AIDS in the hospital, and had also been one of the earliest AIDS cases too; sometimes Timothy would go from the show to the hospital to be with him a while.

Timothy's last show before he stopped performing all together was the European tour of A Chorus Line, when he ended up getting pneumonia pneucystis (I probably spelled it wrong), which back then was one of the earliest signs of the possibility of HIV. It was only a few weeks into this tour that the director had noticed Tim was losing stamina and was later diagnosed with this pneumonia; it is mentioned by someone that "he wasn't feeling well and had no energy at all" when they were in Zurich.

To try and get his energy back, Tim had tried a lot of holistic medication, meditation, and crystal healing, but none of it worked and he "eventually left the tour."

He'd then called Norman and told him that he "didn't want to dance anymore...I'm too old...I don't wanna be a dancer anymore, I want to come home." Which, way to fucking break my heart, especially knowing how passionate he was about dance before and had wanted to be the "next Fred Astaire" and even have his own tv show and make it as a dancer-actor-singer. *sweeps remains of heart into rubbish bin* Seriously, as someone who is passionate about dance herself and couldn't imagine life without it, this absolutely tears into me and I want to give him a hug so bad right now. He was only 31 at the time.

There is a portion of the podcast that was apparently duplicated where they talk about how he had started to feel a lot better in December 1986, and had celebrated at a friend's place where Tim tried to teach the friend's three girls a dance.

Sadly when they returned to LA a severe case of pneumonia sent Tim to the hospital and Norman said that they needed to break the news of his AIDS diagnosis to the former's parents. Fortunately Tim's parents were still just as loving and supportive of both their only son and of Norman.

At one point Betty tried giving Tim a puppy to try to make him feel comforted, but he hadn't wanted it.

Eventually, Tim had made a clear decision that he would not go back to hospital again (Oct '87), and from then on, he was taken care of at home.

Norman's description of Tim's last words to him is heartbreaking, especially since next morning he was in a coma for the next ten days before he died. Hearing Norman's voice breaking at this point, and clearly tearing up is heartbreaking and shows just how much he loved (and still loves) Tim.

Seriously though, I'd recommend this podcast episode, but obviously there's a lot of discussion of how much the AIDS crisis had affected so many back then, especially Ken Page, Norman Buckley, and many others.

Last night I came across a very recent podcast episode where they talked about Timothy Scott and oof the feels. As I found it late at night, I only read the transcript, but I'll give it a proper listen tonight and reblog this with some highlights and thoughts. And I'll be able to post the link then too.

[library-of-ohara]

Anon requested

EXCITED FOR THIS. Talented authors collaborating? YES. I don't know if you guys write angst? But can I prettiest please request a senguko angst ab losing cora. Its cool if you guys dont write angst feel free to ignore ilyall. You guys deserve the world 🤍

Writing angst is not new to me and I love this idea so much. It never really occured to me to write how Sengoku would feel about Rosinante's death, so thank you for requesting this.

This was written by Didi [@usopp-writes]

Enjoy <3

Sengoku SFW Word account: 441 TW: Angst - death - dealing with lost of a loved one

Sengoku stared at the file in front of him, his heart racing for some unknown reason. It was the report from a certain island about the Ope Ope no Mi, a Devil Fruit they’d been willing to buy from pirates who didn’t understand its true value and possibilities. The fleet commander had known that the marines weren’t the only ones after the fruit and the short oral report had stated that the marines had failed. That was why he hesitated to read the file, knowing who else had been after the fruit and he feared what he would read in it.

No, it wasn’t out of fear that Donquixote Doflamingo now was in possession of the fruit, but out of fear to what had become of the youngest Donquixote brother, Rosinante. The young man was like a son to the fleet admiral and had been working as a spy for a long time, in the hopes of taking Doflamingo down. Of course it had been risky to send in Rosinante, even though it’d been obvious that he was the best person to do so. Certainly Doflamingo wouldn’t suspect his younger brother to be a marine spy, right?

Taking a deep breath, Sengoku opened the file. There was no way around it, it was his job to read it and decide the next step. Eyes skimmed over the first page. The marines hadn’t been able to land on the island at first, Doflamingo having used his powers to prevent them from moving ahead, much to their frustration.

It was not along report and yet it felt like he took forever to read it, dragging out the conclusion and end of this disaster. His breath stopped, as he read about the part when the marines had found the body of Rosinante. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes at first, when he read about his adoptive son’s dead, described in a cold and blunt way. At first he refused to believe it to true, but there was no reason for them to falsify this information. Only a very few selected people even knew that Rosinante was a marine.

The tears started to float freely, as the harsh truth settled in his mind. He’d lost his son. He’d been shot multi times, though the cause of death probably had been due to blood lost. The only comfort in the report was the thrown in note that Rosinante had a smile on his lips when he’d died. It was bittersweet, but that little note was the comfort Sengoku would hold onto for years to come, whenever his thoughts ventured to the son he’d lost.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AGOT: Jon VII (Chapter 52)

I turned the page and saw his name. 🥰

The horses did not like the feel of this place. For that matter, neither did Jon.       

The dogs liked it least of all. Ghost had led the party here; the pack of hounds had been useless.

direwolves > hounds

+.+

Last night he had dreamt the Winterfell dream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he'd heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch-dark, his heart hammering. 

There’s so many layers to this recurring dream, it’s impossible for me to nail down the exact meaning. Kings, Lyanna, death... I don’t know.

+.+

"This … this is all wrong," Sam Tarly said earnestly. "The blood … there's bloodstains on their clothes, and … and their flesh, dry and hard, but … there's none on the ground, or … anywhere. With those … those … those …" Sam made himself swallow, took a deep breath. "With those wounds … terrible wounds … there should be blood all over. Shouldn't there?"     

Samwell Tarly is the type of friend to bring over a pizza and binge watch 12 hours of CSI with you, and I love him for that.

+.+

"Burn them," someone whispered. One of the rangers; Jon could not have said who. "Yes, burn them," a second voice urged.    

...Bran? I’m picking up on a pattern here.

+.+

Ghost ran with them for a time and then vanished among the trees. Without the direwolf, Jon felt almost naked.

How many times does Sansa describe herself as feeling naked? A lot.

+.+

"One of the guards overheard Clydas reading the letter to Maester Aemon." Pyp leaned close. "Jon, I'm sorry. He was your father's friend, wasn't he?" 

"They were as close as brothers, once."  

They liked to play swords & hammers on the Trident together.

+.+

I will ask him about my mother, he resolved. I am a man now, it is past time he told me. Even if she was a whore, I don't care, I want to know.    

I don’t think you do.

Don’t worry, there’s a silver lining.

+.+

The Old Bear tapped the letter with a finger. "Your father and the king," he rumbled. "I won't lie to you, it's grievous news. I never thought to see another king, not at my age

Hardy har har.

He’s having a conversation with one.

+.+

The things we love destroy us every time, lad.

No.

+.+

My son loved that young wife of his. Vain woman. If not for her, he would never have thought to sell those poachers.

x

"Lady Stark is not my mother," Jon reminded him sharply. Tyrion Lannister had been a friend to him. If Lord Eddard was killed, she would be as much to blame as the queen.

You get enough penis in one room, and suddenly everything is the woman’s fault.

+.+

"This could not have happened at a worse time. If ever the realm needed a strong king … there are dark days and cold nights ahead, I feel it in my bones …"

Every Starkling chapter you’re getting hammered with their future.

+.+

Ghost was with him, he knew that much. The silent presence of the direwolf gave him comfort. The girls do not even have that much, he thought. Their wolves might have kept them safe, but Lady is dead and Nymeria's lost, they're all alone.    

:(

+.+

"Not only a bastard, but a traitor's bastard," he was telling the men around him.                 

In the blink of an eye, Jon had vaulted onto the table, dagger in his hand.

(...)

He lunged at Ser Alliser's face with the dagger, slashing at those cold onyx eyes

Arya and Jon, two peas in a pod.

They don’t have quite the same composure and training as Sansa and Robb.

+.+

They took his knife and his sword and told him he was not to leave his cell until the high officers met to decide what was to be done with him. And then they placed a guard outside his door to make certain he obeyed. His friends were not allowed to see him, but the Old Bear did relent and permit him Ghost, so he was not utterly alone.    

Reminds me of someone getting locked in a room with a guard outside the door the previous chapter.

+.+

When he opened his mouth to scream, the wight jammed its black corpse fingers into Jon's mouth. Gagging, he tried to shove it off, but the dead man was too heavy. Its hand forced itself farther down his throat, icy cold, choking him.

This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever read, so I’m sharing it.

+.+

Jon tried to shout, but his voice was gone. Staggering to his feet, he kicked the arm away and snatched the lamp from the Old Bear's fingers. The flame flickered and almost died. "Burn!" the raven cawed. "Burn, burn, burn!"    

Smart raven.

Final thoughts:

Was the wight targeting the Lord Commander? Is it sentient? How did it cross the wall? 🤔

-> return to menu <-

[oingo233]

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

[monsoonblooms12]

Belamour (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Set after Book 3, Pooja finally gets Ethan to dance in the rain.

A/N: A silly something born out of my love for rains and my binge listening to 80s Bollywood classics (I have no idea what kinda mess this is tbh). Also, my first song based fic🤎

A/N 2: The song lyrics are indented (Translation in parenthesis)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Rating: General

Word Count: around 1.5K

Category: Total fluff

Warnings: None that I noticed

Song Inspiration: Aaj Kal Yaad Kuch by Mohammed Aziz

READ ON AO3

A pair of summery blue orbs insistently stare at the world beyond the glass windows.

A world that was now being washed by the consistent droplets that came down from the adobe of clouds to meet their origin.

Their drum was usually henotic, tranquil for him.

But at the moment, it only added to his irritation and deepened the void of disappointment that had formed in his chest.

In another room of the same house, a pair of amber orbs watched the magic of nature with a child-like wonder.

The pleasant, dewy petrichor spread around her, and the mellifluous tunes of Earth's own orchestra made her forget the fast turns her life went through in the past day.

In the faint light, she picked up her hand and let the jewel, the stone that was nothing less than a promise of forever, shine like the billion stars that dot the sky at nights that are devoid of clouds.

As the iridescent lights make her eyes sparkle, a vague idea forms in her brain.

Her thoughts float to reach the person who gifted her happiness, and a smile lit up on her face.

There was a mix of challenge and love in the quest she was about to partake and she was determined to succeed.

In slow, soundless steps, she made her way out of the room and out of the house.

A blur went past and his trained eyes were quick enough to catch the motion.

Shaking his head with realization, he followed behind.

As the steps took him down, and he stood under the shade of the multi-floored skyrise, she stayed yards away from it.

Her hair was wet, her skirt twirling, her face bright and beautiful.

He felt his heart race, whispering an urge to join with hers.

He restrained himself, but the scene in front of him was so spectacular that he doubted just how long his restraint would last.

After what felt like an eternity, she turned to him, half of her face golden under the street lights, the other half bearing the monotones of black and white.

She looked like the personification of their love.

Her life the golden, and his the black and white.

He could write sonnets to describe the picture-perfect scene that played before him like a film, but all he did was stand still, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to speak the words that hadn't already been spoken, his well-thumbed thesaurus gathering dust in the labyrinths of his mind.

She looked at him with a longing, a spoken call for him to join her as the rains continued to fall and purify the earth.

All he did was shake his head in silence.

She took it as a challenge, and he already knew how it was going to end.

For a minute he got lost in her memories, reminiscences from a time, from a moment that passed too quick, yet slow enough for him to remember every moment of it.

And suddenly, the faint tunes of a song brought him back to the present.

Every word of the foreign seeming language lucid clear, setting in a cascade of emotions and bringing pictures etched in past pages of the novel of life, making him go on a trip down the memory lane.

Aajkal Yad Kuch Aur Rehta Nahi

(Nowadays I don't seem to remember anything else)

Ek Bas Aapki Yad Aane Ke Bad

(Once your memories enchant me)

Yaad Aane Se Pehle Chale Aaiye

(Please come to me before the memories reach me)

Aur Phir Jaiye Jan Jane Ke Bad

(And then leave only after my breath leaves me)

The truth of the words came with an epiphany.

Every day of knowing her had been a way of painting the monotones of his life in colours he thought didn't belong to him.

Every moment she had ever spent away from him had made him yearn for her more than ever.

And yet he was foolish enough to think that miles of distance and hundreds of hours could make him forget her.

All the distress he felt could have been so easily ended if she had been with him then.

And now, as he dreams of an aeon with her, he promises to only let her go when his breath leaves him alone.

Apni Aankhon Me Mujhko Basa Lijiye

(Allow me to settle in the world of your eyes)

Apne Dil Me Mera Ghar Bana Dijiye

(Make a home for me in your heart)

Kya Karu Dil Kahi Aur Lagta Nahi

Pyar Me Aapse Dil Lagane Ke Bad

(What's the fault of mine if I can't concentrate on anything other than you, since our hearts connected by the string of love)

As the minutes pass by, melting into each other to form an hour, he loses all tracks of time.

And amidst the sweven he was living in right now, at a moment he could not pinpoint, she had taken his hand into hers and now he stood, lost in the amber of her eyes, forgetting all about the shower that now fell upon him.

As she continued to mutter the tunes in a harmony that went on in rhythm with the rain, he wished he could live in the world of her orbs.

To see the world as she saw it, to live the life from her perspective.

All he wanted was home in her heart, a tiny place on the lands of her soul.

Ishq Ke Maine Kitne Fasane Sune

(I have heard many tales of epic romances)

Husb Ke Kitne Kisse Purane Sune

(And stories about beautiful people from bygone eras)

Aisa Lagta Hai Phir Is Tarah Tut Kar

Pyar Hamne Kiya Ek Zamane Ke Bad

(But I feel I have been broken and got mended by love after centuries)

In muted harmonies, the two of them twirled, forgetting the world around them.

The way their eyes held onto each other, as if holding onto their lives, reminded him of the tales of love the folklores talk about.

The romances of princesses and maidens, and of beauties who earned their fairytale.

But as her palm stroked his cheek in a feather-light motion, he concluded that all those tales faint in front of the story of theirs.

There were no royals, no cruel witches setting up spells and no poisoned apples.

There were just two people, broken by the storms life made them navigate through, fitting perfectly as if parts of a whole.

He tried to remember if he had ever experienced anything as he did now, his lip tracing her ear as his hands wrapped around her waist.

It didn't even take him a second to know the answer.

He hadn't.

Aapka Naam Dil Se Nikalta Nahi

(Your name never leaves my heart)

Dillagi Me Koi Zor Chalta Nahi

Dillagi Me Koi Zor Chalta Nahi

(No force is strong enough to stop the meet of two hearts)

Aapko Bhul Jane Ki Koshish Bhi Ki

(I tried a hundred times to forget you)

Aur Tadpa Hun Main Bhool Jaane Ke Baad

(And suffered a suffering of pain and agony once I forgot you)

The rains accelerate and become a downpour. The mist envelops them but there was no care for the changing environment.

The distance between them ceases to exist as their hearts finally get the pleasure of beating in unison.

In the next moments, she whispers close to his ear, the last of the melody, and it's his story.

The story of how he couldn't get rid of the five-lettered name since the first time he ever came to know about it.

Of how no force in the world could stop two hearts from meeting if that's what destiny had in plan for them.

Who one loves and who loves them back determines so much in one life.

And for him, it was a chance, a risk he was scared to take, dreading the destruction it may cause.

After all when had anything ever-blossoming flowers in the city of his soul?

But this time not only did spring finally arrived with its flowery footsteps but also led to a discovery of himself, a part of him that was buried under layers of snow from the winter that reigned in his life for years.

She taps twice on his heart, indicating how he had tried to forget her, all those years ago. And how he broke himself in the process.

As she hummed the last lines, he bowed down in front of the forces that brought the two of them together.

He thanked the stars which aligned the way did to let him fall for her and agreed to hide, to let the rains fall, to let him have this night with her.

And looked in awe at the woman who brought about the sweetest catastrophe mankind has ever known.

And without uttering a word, he picks her and kisses her, saying all that was left unsaid with it.

PS: I actually have another version of the song, that I sung specifically to go with this, but Tumblr is giving me troubles to upload it. Do let me know if you would like to hear it someday.

Anyways, If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎

Tags🤎(Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @izzyourresidentlawyer @phoenixrising308 @adiehardfan @quixoticdreamer16 @a-crepusculo @cordonianruby @gryffindordaughterofathena

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010 @headoverheelsforramsey @estellaelysian @shanzay44

Ethan x Pooja: @aleynareads @choicesaddict5 @stygianflood @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @takemyopenheart @mm2305

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[spookybias]

first time again ‣ [ yang jeongin ] ✧

pairing: yang jeongin x gn! reader

genre: comfort, angst, slice of life

synopsis: an attempt to return a love letter leads to a cycle of all too familiar events.

content: exes to almost lovers again, exes to friends au

warning: reader threatens to kill jeongin twice, insecurities, self-blame

for: @districtninewriters' dear skz, with love event. please be sure to check out all the fics written for this event! everyone in the net worked hard on them :)

word count: 2.4k

note: i want a jeongin :,)

You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever was inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone anything important or special.

But it was definitely your name on the front.

You took in the minimalistic decoration of the beige envelope, mentally noting the small piece of looseleaf paper that had been torn at an aesthetic angle and taped down. Your name had been written in rainbow calligraphy on top of the looseleaf, a font you immediately recognized because your ex had used it plenty of times when decorating the tags on gift bags and appreciation cards to you. Each letter of your name casually leaked into an ombre of cool shades, and hand drawn sparkles littered the envelope.

You dreaded opening the letter, and wished you could stop feeling as blue as the ink your ex had used to write your name.

You were tempted to toss it in the trash, and bury it under the used romance novels you no longer wanted, but as quick as the urge to scream and throw away everything related to your ex had came, it had left.

Adrenaline coursed through you. Your fingertips were fast at ripping open the packaging, while your brain was hesitant to remember the pretty bleach-haired boy who had stolen your heart and then unintentionally crushed it just awhile ago.

Your ex's words were written on skyline stationary. Red and blue stripes twirled along the edges of the paper and a stamp of a smiley face followed by squiggly lines appeared at the top right corner. You were too scared to skim over a single paragraph. So you stood there, staring at the greeting instead.

I know this is sudden, ____.

Four minutes passed. And then you began to read.

You declined your group of friends' invitation to walk to the local bakery and then home with them after school. You had been holding in an immense amount of anger for your ex since you had read his letter to you last night. The letter could've easily been thrown in the trash after reading, but you couldn't help but become entangled in the words he spewed out into sentences.

It's not fair, You thought to yourself as you stomped up the stairs to the platform of the train station. It's not fair that he gets to remind me of everything and I don't get to say anything back to him. It's not fair that I have to think about why our relationship was so pretty.

"Pretty" is the word everyone used to describe the relationship you had with your ex. The both of you had taken it as a compliment back then, but now you knew why everyone referred to the two of you with such an adjective.

Pretty meant your relationship was attractive, it was pleasing to the eye on the outside, it was held at a fair degree. But what was it like on the inside? It was tame and decent, but complicated. Your ex always questioned what he truly felt for you, and it always made you wonder if you were doing something that made him doubtful.

Things had ended because you didn't want to feel more and more insecure as the days went by. It was fruitless to keep trying. Well, at least, it was to you.

"I'll kill him," you grumbled to yourself. A couple people waiting for the L train gave you a weird look. You tried to ignore their glances and the feeling of wanting to reminisce on the train ride you and your ex always shared before and after school during your relationship.

The two of you lived in the same apartment complex, but nowadays you did your absolute best to avoid him. You could've approached him there, instead, but you were so on edge you felt the need to return the letter before you got home. You had stopped taking the train a long time ago, too, desperately trying to avoid him at the train station as well. Now here you were trying to find him.

"I'll kill you!" You practically shouted at your ex. You grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him forward. You had forgotten what it had been like to stand so close to him, but you tried to ignore the blush that was pushing its way onto your face and the urge to pull him into a hug.

"What did I do?!" Yang Jeongin looked around awkwardly at the handful of people staring at both of you.

He was unsure of his emotions. One part of him was embarrassed by getting caught up in your sneak attack and the other part of him was happy that you were at least talking to him, even if you had just threatened his life. Jeongin was able to pry your hands -he had noticed how much smaller they were compared to his- off of him. He grabbed your hand and walked you towards an empty section of the platform.

Your heart fluttered, and when you glanced up as he pulled you along, you were seeing your surroundings in a sakura filter.

Jeongin stopped once you were at a spot without anyone around. "I-" He began to say, but you cut him off.

"Get your hands off of me!" You flailed your arms around until he took a step back.

Jeongin held his hands up in surrender. "Before you kill me, please tell me what I did."

"What is this?" You wasted no time in pulling out the crumpled envelope from Jeongin. "You're sending me love notes? After we already ended things?"

Jeongin looked like a deer caught in headlights. "H-how did you get that?"

"Your stupid ass sent it to me!"

"I- I did but-"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

"Well I don't care and I don't want this! I don't want you anymore!" You crumpled the envelope and letter into a ball and threw it at Jeongin's chest. It bounced off, and rolled onto the floor.

"Okay," Jeongin replied, his voice cracking. "You don't have to accept it. It was wrong of me to send you something after we had already broken up." He reached down for the crumpled up paper.

Jeongin held it up, hurt written across his features. The letter seemed to mean a lot to him, and even though he had hurt you in the past, you never wanted to make him feel bad.

You tried to snatch the mess you had made away from him but he held it up.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking annoyed. "What?"

"Give it back," You told him, trying to reach the crumpled letter.

"You just said you didn't want it." It was unlike Jeongin to raise his voice. "If you don't want it then I'll take it back."

"Why?"

"Because I care about what I wrote in it and I want it!"

"Stop!" You continued your attempt to take it from him.

You and Jeongin fought over the crumpled papers like two nine-year-olds fighting over a toy truck. You were able to get a good grip on his love note. You were holding on to his love and you refused to let it go this time. You lied when you said when you didn't want him, and you yanked the paper towards you. Only it didn't come to you as a whole.

It ripped in half.

"Look what you did," Jeongin said, not realizing the weight of his words.

Look what you did, ____, You scolded yourself. You messed it up again.

That was the last straw. You were tired and frustrated and still heartbroken. You crouched down, head in your hands and tears slipping down your cheeks. You were nothing left but sniffles and sobs and torn pages and haunted by the word, "pretty".

"It's not fair," You choked out. "Why did you do this to me?"

"____," Jeongin had calmed down and reached out to you. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," You told him. "Why did you send that if you didn't want to be with me anymore? What was the point of reminding me?"

Jeongin took a deep breath, gathering up whatever courage he had left. "Who says I don't want to be with you anymore? That's why I wrote you the letter. I'm just... not sure if you still want to be with me."

You didn't cut him off, so Jeongin took that as a chance to continue.

"I still think about you all the time. I wasn't sure how I felt about you when we were dating because we were both inexperienced and we rushed into things. That's not your fault, so don't think it was. I was the one who immediately said yes when you asked me out. I realized now that I did like you then and I still love you now, but at the time, I didn't know at all how to differentiate romantic feelings from platonic ones. I shouldn't have immediately said yes, I should've waited at least a day to confirm with myself that I did like you. If I hadn't rushed the both of us into something, we wouldn't have broken up. There wouldn't have been doubts or insecurities or anything wrong with us." Jeongin continued to rub your back soothingly. He was relieved that you had stopped shaking. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you feel like everything was your fault. And I'm sorry that you received a letter from me, because all it did was make things worse between us."

"Jeongin, I- I still love you too," You managed to get out.

It was in that moment that Jeongin realized he had said that he loves you. He gritted his teeth and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But I need more time," You told him.

"I understand that." He nodded his head and gave you a small smile. "But can I walk you home?"

You nodded, and took the hand he offered to help you up off the ground. It felt like the first time again.

Jeongin barged into his younger brother's room. "Were you looking through my stuff?"

"Yes," His brother responded, scribbling into his notebook and ignoring the urge to give his older brother eye contact. "I was helping mom clean in your room."

"Why did ____ receive a letter I wrote ages ago before we broke up?" Jeongin crossed his arms, demanding an answer.

Jeongin's little brother blinked twice before turning to him shocked. "You wrote that before you guys broke up? It looked recent so mom sent me to the mailbox to drop it off."

"Well thank you for mailing it," Jeongin tried to end the conversation, but his brother pressed on.

"Oh I know why it looked recent," His brother have him a sly smile. "You kept it in good condition since that was the only thing of ____ you had left before they dumped you." Jeongin's little brother chuckled, going back to his notes. Then a thought popped into his mind. "Wait. Why are you thanking me?"

"No reason. Just, thank you," Jeongin told him sincerely. "Now stop touching other people's mail."

"Hey, what?" The younger was confused. "I don't understand you-" But Jeongin was already out of the room and heading back to his.

Jeongin sat at his desk in front of his bedroom window, and looked at his half of the ripped love note. He smiled to himself. He had written the letter ages ago and wanted to mail it to you as a cute gesture, but you had broken up with him the day after he had written it, and demanded all of your stuff back.

Jeongin held up his half, analyzing the piece of paper. He had the ending of the letter.

The boy caught sight of you at your bedroom window, staring from across the complex. You held up your half and smiled at him.

You had the start of the letter.

( THE LETTER )

I know this is sudden, ____.

But I wanted to send this to you because you mean a lot to me, more than I initially thought. I just want to talk to you all the time, and thinking about you puts the biggest smile on my face. I want to send you letters like this every week. No, everyday. And I want to fill your mailbox up with love notes and other things I hope you'll find adorable and wholesome so that when you go outside to open it, it explodes in an endless supply of my affection and my words kind of just fall around you. And you can think, "Wow, Jeongin really likes me. He likes me." Because I do like you.

Okay. That was pretty cheesy of me. It's only the truth, though. I have real romantic feelings for you, and I've been thinking about how much I like you for awhile now.

I remember when you stomped up the steps to the platform of the L train just a few months ago. You looked pissed and about ready to kill me. I won't lie to you, I was fearing for my life and I thought, "This is it. This is how I go. At the hands of a beautiful human." But you didn't kill me. You grabbed me by my shirt collar and you gave me a quick kiss and said, "I like your stupid ass." Not the most romantic confession, but it's the only confession I've ever gotten. It's the only confession I want and need.

And I remember you tripping and falling right after. I wanted to carry your bookbag for you, but you wouldn't let me. We kept asking each other why. "Why can't I carry it?" I asked, "Why do you want to carry it?" You asked. "Because I want to," I would say and then you would yell at me and tell me to give your bookbag back. We looked like ten-year-olds.

The train had pulled in and you tried to grab my hand and lead me inside, but you tripped over my foot and fell down instead. You fell so hard you started crying and I panicked inside. But when I rubbed your back and asked if you were okay, you said you were upset that you made me miss the train. I offered you my hand and you took, and now, I want to hold your hand forever.

So yeah, I like you a lot. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it. I can't wait to see where we go from here.

With love, Jeongin.

all rights reserved | copyrights © spookybias. do not repost, translate, moderate, or copy any of my works.

[saturatedboy]

I was in the mood to write some angst-fluff writing for Donna Beneviento x M!reader so I hope you all enjoy if you chose to read it ^^ (This one shot can be found on my wattpad account Nerd_Dragon_Writes)

Mentions:

Just a sad fluffy chapter

This is a male!reader

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Narrator’s POV

(Y/n) was minding his own business tinkering away at fixing the recently broken rocking chair that Angie, the loud and hyperactive doll, loved to bits- literally. Once Angie was sat in the rocking chair you barely could get her out of it. Angie adored the way it would rock, she found it better when her owner Donna would read a book beside her as (Y/n) would gently rock the chair as he normally sat beside it on the ground. However due to some disagreement over the outside world, Angie had thrown a fit and out of anger had broken the chair. Donna on the other hand had silently backed away out of the room and went somewhere in the small mansion to have space to herself. Mostly likely from the distress and headaches she most likely was getting, (Y/n) could only guess.

As (Y/n) hammered in the very last piece of cork into the wooden frame, the all well knowing screech of the wedding dressed doll came from the left side of his ear. "You fixed itttt!" She carried out, floating around the male and sitting in it after getting herself comfy in it. "Ahhhhh! It so good!" Giggling and quickly flying out of the rocking chair, Angie had rammed herself into (Y/n) and engulfed him in a hug as her small wooden arms could reach. The attempt at a hug had lead (Y/n) laughing slightly at her excitement and appreciation. Moving his arm, (Y/n) had cradled the doll with one arm under her to support her weight and used his other hand to gently pat the top of her veiled head. "You're very welcome. It's the least I could do for you after you and Donna didn't kill me-"

A finger was pressed against his lips, the doll's face had a serious look- one that you wouldn't expect Angie to even be able to create from knowing her having a really expressive emotions of being positive. "You were fun to play with and Mother Miranda did say that if you did somehow survive we could keep you for our own needs~ Ow! Hey no fair!"

With an outstretched pointing finger, the male had flicked the doll on her head to keep her thoughts to herself. He was left with a a small frown from the small doll in return."Sooo?" She dragged out, looking up at the male with a sad glint in her eyes. "Shouldn't you go find Donna, I'm sure she's still upset with earlier."

Sighing, (Y/n) could only nod however he didn't move from his spot on the floor next to the chair. He didn't know why but he felt like Donna didn't want to see him at the moment after the disagreement earlier. "Why don't you both want  me to leave- I'll only be going down the the village to go collect some materials?"

Angie had stayed quiet, thinking on how she should word her next words since she didn't want their new playmate to go and leave them after hearing what she had to say. Squirming her way out of his arm, she heaved herself out and floated in front of (Y/n), twiddling her fingers. "You've been with us for a while now and Donna had the sudden idea of maybe you wanted to be a fam-"

"I apologise for my sudden departing. I did not mean to worry you." A soft voice came from behind, the sound of small patters could be heard to along with some scattering on the floor. Turning around, (Y/n) could only be met with a heard of smaller puppets and dolls crawling, running and even skipping towards him with welcoming smiles. However past them, The Lady of the mansion stood with her veil covering her face and still in her black gown stitch and created from her sorrows.

As the dolls climbed onto (Y/n), he could only fight against their resistance to be able to stand up. However with the help on Angie moving some, he finally managed to stay standing with at least a total of twelve dolls hanging and clinging onto him. Taking a step forward, the male had smiled in joy seeing the other stand before him. "Donna," (Y/n) had spoken out gently, using a hand to lift a doll that was about to fall off him back onto his shoulder. "I wish to speak of today's event, however I had no intentions to mean to upset you or Angie."

Donna moved to lay against the door, her shoulder slightly making ridged movements every now again. With worried eyes, (Y/n) continued stepping forward until he was right in front of the doll maker. Being face to veil, the male had tilted his head gently, his smile still plastered sweetly onto his face. "May I take your veil up please?"

As the request left (Y/n) lips, Donna raised a hand to her veil and pressed it against her face. The sudden feeling of self-conscious had fled around her body and made a sudden noise of a sniffle come out from her. She hadn't revealed her face to anyone in a while- except Angie and her own creations. "Ma, it will be okay." Angie had floated next to her owner, whispering to her after that so (Y/n) couldn't hear what she was saying. It seemed it worked though because next thing he saw was Angie backing away with a her hands rapidly shaking happily.

Moving her hand down, Donna had pulled the black sheet up, letting her stray hairs from a bun she had stick to her face. Her pale skin had turned a cherry red on her cheek bones, her eye had steamed up with a blur and a light streak of water and sweat had trail down her face. Shyly looking away from embarrassment, Donna had focused herself on staring at the door frame, running her finger up and down the wood not caring is she would receive a splinter from it. With wide eyes in both wonder and enchantment, (Y/n) spoke out, "Lady Donna- You're-!"

"I'm hideous. This is what happened to me after the...incident." Biting her bottom lip and splitting it a small amount, she scrunched her eye up and stopped running her finger up and down the frame. Breathing deeply, she gathered the courage to stare at the other with a forced tone of happiness and curved lips "I didn't want you to leave because I thought I had everything back. I thought you would like to be a family. We acted like one and I believed that, you were the one to fix everything."

Angie looked at (Y/n) to see his reactions. Although she couldn't do that much in the very moment, all she knew was that the fate of everyone in that house, was laid in the male's hands. Using his hand to place the dolls and puppets on him onto the ground, he walked forward towards Donna and grabbed her chin gently with one hand and used the other to stroke her cheek-leaving Donna to be very flustered. "Oh Donna, hideous is no way to describe a women who laughter is the most perfect composed music to ever exist. Hideous is no way to describe a women who's hands fit perfectly with my own and create the most alluring pieces of art in my opinion."

"But!-" Her argument was cut short with a gentle kiss against her cheek. With her mouth left hanging open slightly and Angie laughing in the background, she felt sudden comfort wrap around her frame and brought her closer to them.

"And hideous is no way to describe the women who deserves a family which I am willing to hopefully be accepted in." (Y/n)'s soft whispers in her ear had left her speechless. It felt like the first time in forever she felt safe in the arms of someone. No more hiding herself away from the guilt she thought she deserved to feel. The warmth and sweet smell of flowers that came off (Y/n) had made those thoughts stop, like they were just stories from a fairy-tale. Slowly lifting her own arms up, she rested her head between the shoulder-blade and neck of her other, hugging tightly and letting tears that showed compassion and love fall from he eyes. Opening them slightly, she was met with Angie sitting back in her rocking chair and the other dolls and puppets surrounding her as she read a book to them, trying to mimic Donna when she would show the pages when reading.

It was Donna's turn to sniffle out a giggle when she watched Angie struggle with turning the page since it was so far away from her. Pulling out of the loving embrace (Y/n) was giving her, she moved her hand down to wrap around his hand and gently brought them both of them over to the chair. "Would you like me to read it Angie?" She asked watching the bride doll swell in happiness and nodding swiftly.

"Yes please mama!" She screeched out, jumping out of the chair and moving the other creations about so she could sit down on the floor with them. Donna let go of (Y/n)'s hand but once again she was left without words as he kissed her cheek again. "Ooooo~ mama and papa are kissing each otherrrr~" Angie sang out, leaving the room to be filled with other voices from the other creations. Feeling flustered and worried that them words aren't correct, she stand corrected when (Y/n) had sat down in the rocking chair and gently pulled her onto his lap. His arms once again wrapped around her as he leaned his head onto her shoulder looking at the others.

"I'm just showing my love to my wife, is that an issue children?" He said leaving the doll's to quickly quieten down, only a few whispered were left.

"Wife?" Donna muttered and she moved her eye to stare down at the other.

"That is, if you'll let me love you?" (Y/n) asked slowly. Donna smiled, a real smile and nodded.

"That's more than fine by me," She said as she felt her heart race in speed.

"Well that's good now can we hear the storyyyy?" Angie whined out, crossing her arms in a huff as she let the book lay in front of her. Donna turned to her and nodded.

"Of course you can."

Within the office room was the two new lovers. Donna was still in her mourn clothing, however pinned to the clothing where a breast pocket may of been was a flower. A daisy to be precise to signify new beginnings for her and (Y/n). Donna had leaned back against a green leather sofa facing the projector in the room. The faint noise of snoring was heard above in the more safer rooms, the snores and sounds were mostly likely coming from her creations of her handy craft.

Soon a pair of footsteps had lead in her way, only for them to stop and the sound of a sneeze coming out. Donna looked behind her to see (Y/n) walking towards her with two glasses of water. Gently giving her one from behind the sofa, (Y/n) had walked around and sat next to her, him taking a sip of water. "Say Donna," (Y/n) had started, turning to face her. "How do you feel about you coming out with me tomorrow. We don't have to go to the village so instead how about we explore? That way we both get what we want. I go outside and you don't have to worry about me leaving hm?"

Donna stayed quiet, focusing on drinking her water. She normally wasn't much of a talker but she talked so much today that she felt breathless. Bringing her glass down from her lips, she sighed.

"Maybe," she spoke out. A short laughter was heard from the other as he leaned behind himself and placed his glass on the table behind. After he gracefully wrapped an arm around Donna and brought her into a side hug which she was more than happy to accept and snuggle into.

"Don't worry my love," (Y/n) spoke out as he gave her a kiss on her forehead, letting his lips linger there for  while to pull away soon after with a toothy grin. "I understand my maker."

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