#i miss being friends with all three of them

[steviewashere]

Thinking about a fic idea right now where Steve comes out (maybe with a little Steddie...maybe; might be best to start them pre-relationship in this). Walk with me here.

Steve Harrington who has always been a huge Wham! fan. And then eventually a huge George Michael fan. He's got all their albums. Collects magazines with interviews in them (y'know, if there's a U.S. release). So, he's pretty much up to date with all news, music info; that kind of thing. He's always on the money about when interviews are.

George Michael who comes out publicly in 1998 after his arrest. Which, you can watch the clip from the interview here. He's thirty-four at the time, had been private about his sexuality and romantic life up until then.

Steve who's freshly in his thirties.

He's thirty-one. He's had some thoughts in regards to his sexuality for years now. Since Robin came out to him in 1985, he's thought about little things. The way certain guys walked that caught his attention, maybe the plushness of their lips, how they styled their hair. She's introduced him to queer culture at the time—pride parades & protests, some lingo, the handkerchief code, etc. So, he's well aware of a lot of things before the CNN interview airs. He hasn't made any hard connections between his sexuality and the thoughts in his head; maybe he's had a few, soft, questioning moments like: Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Is this what I really think or am I searching for something I don't actually want? Am I just being too observant?

(Okay, thinking about pre-Steddie now. And a lot of platonic soulmates Stobin. Also, I totally (accidentally) half-wrote a fic. Stay with me here.)

Eddie's been a part of Steve's life since 1986. Somehow he survives (don't ask me the fine details, I don't know). And Steve tries his hand at being Eddie's friend because he kind of—no, really—wants a guy friend who's around his age. Cue their shenanigans: the chaos they cause together, the pranks they pull on their other friends, the shit Eddie makes Steve get into (drag racing (cars), stealing scrap from the junkyard, throwing rocks over the quarry to guess the impact they made, other little town shit). Eddie who learns that Steve's a true ally to Robin, so he comes out to Steve, too. They all form a very great, deep bond of solidarity. Become roommates outside of Hawkins, somewhere a little more progressive. They protect each other. Listen to each other.

Cue the day in 1998 when the CNN interview is being aired live, unseen up until then. Steve's already ready to watch, having taken up the middle cushion on the couch. Robin's on his left, criss-cross and making a set of beaded bracelets for the three of them. Eddie's on Steve's right, uncapping a couple bottles of beer to pass over. And they're watching with Steve because Steve likes George Michael and, well, they like Steve and his interests. So they're all there when George Michael comes out. They're all there when the words are said live.

Robin and Eddie are wide-eyed, then laughing something a bit triumphant, high-fiving over Steve's head, maybe chanting something: "One of us! One of us!" Maybe becoming huge George Michael fans as they speak. But, Steve's silent. He's sitting on the edge of his cushion, palms down on his thighs, staring off into nothing. All the celebration stops as the interview continues, words being missed. And Robin and Eddie share an odd glance, a questioning one. Until, finally, Robin asks, "Steve-O? You OD over there?"

Steve blinks back into existence. Mutters, "Did George Michael just come out on live TV?" Eddie answers him truthfully, voice a bit soft and concerned. Steve licks his lips, doesn't move his eyes from his socked feet. "...He knew for a little while," he comments. "Right? He knew for a while."

"Sure, Steve," Eddie answers again. "He probably knew about himself for a long time. Probably...Honestly, probably while he was still in Wham."

Maybe Steve nods at that. Maybe he just stays kind of stoic, thinking too hard. "He's thirty-four," Steve points out.

"That he is," Robin answers this time. "Thirty-four and proudly out."

Steve hums some sort of acknowledgement and then goes back to watching the TV, moment drifting away. He sort of watches in a daze. Up until he turns in for the night. Well after Robin has slumped over on the couch and Eddie's gone to bed earlier—because he has work, or so Eddie's said. And Steve maybe sits in his bedroom, up at his headboard, looking down at his albums. At his Wham! and George Michael albums. Turning the tapes over in his hands, reading the track lists, maybe tracing the edges of the cases with his thumbs. Thinking about how George had said he was telling his life story, even through some of his earlier solo work. He's thinking about how successful George Michael has been. And then he thinks about how George Michael came out later in his life. In his thirties, not in his twenties, not in his teens. Sure, yes, it was definitely more negatively criticized to do so, but it means something to Steve. To be thirty-four and freshly out. And he thinks, too, about being thirty-one and things clicking into shiny clarity—he's into guys, too. He's into women, but he's into guys. That word, "bisexual" looking like the final jigsaw piece. To be thirty-one and proudly out, too.

And he's comforted in that thought, as he drifts off to sleep.

And when he wakes up in the morning, he bustles around Eddie and Robin in the kitchen. They make a shared breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and toast with jam. They sit at the dining table, forks against plates, shooting the shit back and forth.

Steve cuts a slice of sausage, puts it in his mouth, eats as usual. And just as the conversation is beginning to drift again, he finally speaks what's on his mind. "I'm bisexual," he's able to proudly state.

Maybe Eddie and Robin cheer, too for that. They ask him for his taste in guys. Maybe they tease him a little. Maybe Eddie realizes he fits the bill a little; maybe he waits a little bit before taking a shot, but he still does eventually.

And right before they head off for their respective, regular lives outside of the comfortable space of their apartment, Robin knocks their shoulders together. "Proud of you," she states. "Thirty-one and proudly out. How does it feel?"

They're in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes because Eddie left for work already with a promise to bring home pizza for dinner. They're in the kitchen, the lights a little fluorescent like the Starcourt bathroom. They're in the kitchen, in each other's orbits, two friends who've seen it all and will continue to see the world together.

"It feels...I feel good. Excited."

Robin smiles at him, something soft and understanding. And as his focus goes back to the plate he's about to hand off, she snorts. "So, Eddie, huh?" And he scoffs, rolling his eyes. She just laughs to herself. Then, when she's calmed a little bit, she states, "He kind of looks like Rowlf. You and I have a thing for Muppets, Stevie. Muppets."

And after their laughter dies down and they live out the rest of the day, Steve thinks about how he can send a letter of thanks to George Michael. And maybe he cherishes those albums a little closer. And he is confident in himself for the first time in a while, all because the representation he didn't know he was seeking, is finally right in his face.

Sorry that got long. But I'm just thinking about Steve who comes out later in his life. Maybe he couldn't make those connections because he didn't have the safe atmosphere to do so; feared the worst if his parents ever realized he didn't care too much about women sometimes, if his eyes drifted to men a little too much, fearing that they'd catch his contemplation. Maybe he found his safe space through Robin and Eddie, but needed a little more of a push and he just didn't find it yet. Up until now.

[lilghostiequinni]

With You, Always

Main Masterlist Landoscar Masterlist

Pairing: College student Girlfriend!female reader x Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: College is stressful in and of itself, but when you are smarter than the average person and going for 5 majors, it's even harder. You are not able to attend every Grand Prix to support your boyfriends, yes, two boyfriends, the McLaren boys of Oscar and Lando. But not being able to attend every GP has come to the attention of fans, and you're getting hate for not being there at every race. But then everything comes into view after a few events.

Requested: NO / yes

You started dating Oscar first. You had met him through your friend Lily, who was also Oscar's ex-girlfriend, after a mutual breakup between them, and the two stayed friends.

Then you meet Lando through Oscar when you attended a race back in early 2023 when Oscar invited you to watch the training before the first race weekend.

At first, you said no, but then some storm happened and canceled your in-person classes on Thursday and Friday, so you went to Bahrain.

Then afterward, Lando started to pursue you, and when you talked to Oscar about it, he said that he knew and told Lando it was okay because Lando liked you too.

So, around Silverstone, you also started dating Lando.

When fans found out, at first, they were mad, and they gave you hate, but after a few months, when the dynamics of your relationship started to show in the little things of the race you attended or the post online, fans were okay with it.

But then came the 2024 season, one that the three of you knew would be more difficult to get you on the track because of the many classes where you needed to be on your college campus for your 5 majors.

It was around Austria that the fans realized you attended fewer races than the previous season because in the season before, you had only missed one race weekend, but in the current season, you had missed 6 races.

The fans didn't know you were still in college or your personal life, but they still hated you.

When it came you that you were attending Yale for 5 majors, fans felt sorry for hating on you and were rather impressed with you on the massive number of majors, when asked, you said that you couldn't decide, so you chose them all.

When the fans found out you were in college, it was after the Italian GP when Lando and Oscar posted appreciation posts for your birthday which was in that off week in September.

You were lying with the two in bed, you were laying on Oscar, and Lando cuddled into your chest when you came across a fan post apologizing for not liking her because she wasn't at races.

You showed the boys because you knew they did a post, but you hadn't looked at it, mostly because they wouldn't let you because they wanted you to wait for some reason.

When you were allowed to see the post you read the caption of "With you, always." ending both posts because it's something you did for them on their birthdays.

A/N: Took second in this poll

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[thewidowsledger]

Looking Out For Two

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis, pregnant reader, brief smut, pregnancy, daddy kink, Wanda being a Natasha hater, dark Natasha if you squint, violence, trafficking, angst

Author's Note: This is not proofread y'all so I might edit, please excuse my silly and stupid mistakes; English is not my first language. A friend requested this to me, they said they requested it to a writer here but unfortunately they went on hiatus, so here I am bringing their ideas to life, xo.

⧗

You stared at Natasha in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside of you as you watched her settle in your shared bed.

The words echoed in your mind.

I am with a child Nat…your child.

And suddenly all of the emotions and doubts and fears that you had been pushing aside came rushing back to the surface.

⧗

You paced nervously in your shared bathroom. You had taken not one, but three pregnancy tests, just to be sure. Each one showed the same result: 2 lines=positive. The news had your heart racing. You knew Natasha was coming back today, and the timing of these tests was undeniably nerve-wracking.

"Fuck this…this can't be."

Just as you were contemplating how to break the news, JARVIS’s calm, artificial voice filled the room through the speakers. "Miss Y/L/N, the team has returned. Your partner Agent Romanoff is back."

Panic set in as you realized Natasha could walk in at any moment. You scrambled to hide the pregnancy tests, fumbling with them in your haste. Shoving them into a drawer, you quickly composed yourself, though your heart continued to race.

Before you could even make it through the door Natasha stepped into your shared room, her expression hard and distant. She barely glanced at you as she set her bags down. "Hey," she said curtly.

Your eyes suddenly lost its light when you were welcomed by her cold demeanor. This wasn't the welcome you were used to. Typically, when Natasha came home, she'd greet you with a rose or a small souvenir, accompanied by her warm kisses and affectionate hugs. Sometimes, she would throw you over her shoulder and you ended up tied up in your shared bed. On occasions when you were the one returning from a mission, she would shower you with kisses and hugs the moment you stepped through the door. Sometimes she would even pick you up directly from the mission site, bringing you back to a room meticulously prepared with rose petals on the bed and a luxurious bathtub filled with rose petals and wine. Those gestures always made you feel cherished and loved.

But now, it is different.

"I uhm, I made you cookies baby and your favorite hot chocolate. I know how much you missed them, you know the last time we called…" You scrambled through your words as you noticed Natasha eye you like a predator watching its prey, she slowly dropped her bags and walked towards you.

You were just wearing one of her shirts that is oversized to you and a pink underwear. She reached your face, it was oh-so-gentle, her thumb brushing your cheek, as if you're going to break. She hummed as you talked and scrambled your words. You were falling for her once again as you stared at her eyes…you watched as her eyes slowly dilated. Your eyes grew bigger with panic, but when you were about to pull out from her embrace that's when her other hand gripped your ass and immediately pulled you with a bruising kiss. You moaned, gripping her biceps as her tongue fought its way to your mouth. You felt her hips and her hardened length bucked towards your throbbing core.

"I’ll take a shower." She said as she pulled away, leaving you on edge. She moved past you, heading straight to the bathroom without another word or touch.

You were left alone, gasping for air with an aching heart and a confused mind not to mention the needy ache on your throbbing core. But you immediately brushed your feelings off, you gave her a benefit of the doubt. Missions can be tough at times, you think to yourself so you just went to your shared closet and grabbed some fresh clothes for her to use, you also put some pajamas for yourself.

Couple of minutes after, you went about preparing the bed, expecting Natasha to rest after her shower or maybe you can still talk, you think to yourself once again.

What if she didn't want this?

You screw your eyes shut as you fluff the pillows and tidying up the sheets on your shared bed.

Maybe I’ll just move out and not tell her about it. I’ll just raise our child alone and…I—

You were standing by the bed, lost in your thoughts, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You let out a small gasp, startled by the unexpected embrace.

Natasha smirked against your neck as she felt you jump a little in surprise. She enjoyed the way your body reacted to her touch, and the way you were always on edge whenever she was around.

"I don't remember you wearing this pajamas before I got in the shower, hm?" She whispered seductively, she almost growled in your ear. "You seem distracted, baby."

"Daddy can fix that."

"B-but, wait, Natty, love? Can we talk?"

Natasha was on a mission to make you forget about whatever it was that was on your mind, to make you forget about anything else but her. Her kisses and touches were relentless as she continued to explore your body with her cold hands fresh from the shower, slender fingers digging into your waist before going under your shirt and slowly reaching for your nipples.

"We need to talk," you gasped out, trying to push her away. But it was like trying to move a boulder—she was really determined, like she always is.

"No talking," she whispered against your neck. "Just us."

"Nat, please…" You whined as she soothe her tongue that's gently lapping over yet another mark she just made on your skin.

"Please what, baby?" She smirked, when she felt you tried to pull away, she pressed herself firmly against your back.

"We need to tal—"

"Hm, but we're talking now, love. Aren't we?" Not letting you finish your words.

Natasha watched you as you pulled away from her grasp, her expression betraying no emotion as you pleaded with her to talk. She then chuckled low in her throat, clearly enjoying the way you were pushing her away. Her smirk grew wider as she sensed your frustration.

"Come now, love," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. "Is there really something so important that we need to talk about right this instant? I'm so tired after that mission, I'd rather just relax with you."

Frustration and anger bubbled inside of you, and you lost it. "No Natasha! We need to talk now,” you almost screamed, your voice filled with desperation. "This can't wait." You whispered.

Natasha paused for a moment, her eyes flashing with irritation as you screamed at her saying her full name. She was not used to it, and for being disobeyed, let alone shouted at.

"And why can't it wait, huh?" she asked, her voice cold and calm as she leaned back against the bed. "It's late and I'm tired. The mission was exhausting and I’ll just sleep now."

You stared at Natasha in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside of you as you watched her settle in your shared bed.

The words echoed in your mind.

I am with a child Nat…your child.

And suddenly all of the emotions and doubts and fears that you had been pushing aside came rushing back to the surface.

⧗

As you opened your eyes, you immediately noticed the absence of Natasha beside you. Groggy and still half-asleep, you looked around the room, searching for any sign of her. But she was nowhere to be found. You sat up in bed, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. You rushed to the bathroom and barely made it in time to throw up into the toilet. As you knelt there, feeling weak and dizzy, you realized that you hadn't felt nauseous like this since...since you were pregnant.

After a few minutes, you rinsed out your mouth and stood up, feeling the room spin around you. You braced yourself against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady yourself.

Suddenly, the voice of Jarvis broke through the silence. "Agent Y/L/N, I have been informed that the Avengers have been summoned for a mission today. Agent Romanoff is currently in the meeting room now together with the team."

As you sat there, trying to process the information that JARVIS had given you, the artificial intelligence noticed your distressed state. "Is everything alright, Agent Y/L/N? Do you need me to call Agent Romanoff?"

You quickly shook your head, trying to hide the panic that had surged through you at JARVIS's suggestion. "No, no, that's alright," you said quickly. "I'm fine, really. There's no need to call her. I’ll be there in a minute."

You silently cursed the presence of JARVIS in your room. "Stupid AI," you muttered to yourself. "Why does he have to be installed everywhere in the compound?"

You breathe, touching your tummy before you proceed to clean the bathroom, the sight of the toilet with your puke making your stomach churn, but you pushed through the nausea and cleaned it thoroughly anyway. Once you were done, you cleaned yourself and moved to the bedroom and quickly dressed yourself, putting on your mission gear. Your eyes fell upon the box of cookies that you had made for Natasha. They sat there, untouched, you felt your heart ache once again and a tear rushing down your cheek. You grabbed several of the cookies and stuffed some into your mouth.

As you walked at the compound Wanda saw, she noticed the tears streaming down your face. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her words carefully chosen.

"My cookies are good, right?" You asked between sobs.

Wanda stood there, stunned by your question and your emotional response, she carefully chose her words to avoid upsetting you further. "Of course they taste good, love," she replied. "Where's Nata—"

But before she could say anything more, you immediately shoved a handful of cookies into her mouth with your free hand, not wanting to hear the name she's about to mention. Wanda's eyes widened in surprise as she tried to speak, but her words were muffled by your sweet cookies.

As you cried and leaned against Wanda, she patiently let you rest on her shoulder. Even with her mouth still filled with your cookies, she gently reached up to pat your head, offering what comfort she could.

"Shh, it's okay," she tried to comfort you, her words slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.

As your tears began to subside, Wanda gently spoke up. "Hey, Y/N, I think they're waiting for us in the Quinjet now." You nodded and managed to compose yourself and brush off the last remaining crumbs of the cookies out of your suit.

The two of you started making your way towards the Quinjet when you saw Maria.

"Cookie?" You offered her.

Maria looked at you and glanced at Wanda that gave her a just take it or else she'll have a tantrum look. Maria looked skeptical at first, but she knew better than to refuse. Reluctantly, she accepted the last cookie from you. Your smile widened as she ate the last crumb of the cookie.

"What's wrong with her?" Maria asked Wanda as they both trailed behind you.

Wanda's reply came in a low hiss, her irritation palpable. "I don't know! She was crying. And I am going to kill your buddy!"

You turned to look at them but just as you turned around, your eyes narrowed as you picked up on the hint of irritation in the voice of Wanda. Their words were instantly replaced with fake smiles as they noticed your suspicious glare.

As the three of you reached the Quinjet you felt a bit more steady now that you had gotten your emotions under control.

You watch Maria and Wanda get past you before you speak silently aloud, addressing the unborn child in your stomach. "Please be good to mommy okay? We're going on a mission now," you said softly. "I promise you, this will be the last one. Afterwards, I'll retire."

The words were meant as a promise to both the child growing inside you and to yourself—this mission would be your last as an agent.

Before the three of you could come in. The atmosphere onboard the Quinjet was tense as JARVIS addressed the team, scanning the three of you. The AI's voice chimed in, breaking the silence.

"There appears to be a pregnant agent among the three of you."

Wanda, Maria, and yourself froze in your tracks, exchanging nervous glances with each other. The revelation had sent a wave of trepidation through all of you.

JARVIS continued speaking.

"Furthermore, it is suggested that they must not participate in this mission. It is imperative that they rest and refrain from engaging in any strenuous activities."

You felt the weight of JARVIS' words settle upon you, the realization that you were in fact the pregnant agent in question sinking in.

"Stupid AI." You muttered as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"That's not me, I just fucked Darcy last night." Maria held both of her hands in the air.

"What the hell? You didn't need to tell us that!" Yelena shouted in disgust.

"I told you they were doing it. Give me my 20 dollars, Sam." Tony celebrated and pointed a finger gun at the Falcon.

Sam went behind Steve and whispered, "Let me borrow 20 dollars."

"My money can wait, Cinderella!" Tony laughed as he patted Sam’s shoulder.

The moment Maria spoke up, causing the team to gag at her blunt revelation, your heart skipped a beat. Everyone's attention was suddenly drawn away from the earlier revelation of this stupid AI, and you breathed a small sigh of relief.

But as you glanced over at Natasha, you could still feel her eyes boring on you. Her gaze was intense, and you could sense her suspicion. The tension in the air was thick as the team attempted to process Maria's blunt statement.

Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at Wanda, silently pleading with her through your eyes. She picked up on your silent plea, understanding the truth that lay hidden beneath your words.

Emotional in the morning, check. Wanda began, as if ticking off a list in her mind. Cookie cravings, check.

This may not be a complete list but I know it's not me.

You watched her standing beside you, she was fidgeting but in her mind everything was just hitting the nail on the head. Then, with a moment of hesitation, Wanda closed her eyes and spoke three simple words.

"I am pregnant."

Your eyes widened in shock as Wanda spoke up. The team wasted no time in congratulating her, enveloping her in hugs and celebrations.

"You're pregnant huh?!" Yelena shrieked in excitement, she was the first to pull her in a tight hug.

"Yeah it's me!" Wanda winced slightly, feeling a pang of guilt for the lie she was covering up on your behalf.

"We have a little witch incoming, yeah?" Steve’s eyes sparkled with joy.

Tony couldn't help but chime in as well, a smirk on his face. "We didn't bet on this one, Wilson."

Sam chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, I know."

As Natasha approached Wanda to offer her congratulations, Wanda's usual soft demeanor vanished. Her anger and frustration with Natasha over the previous situation with you were evident.

"Congratulations, Wanda." Natasha spoke gently, extending a hug.

But Wanda swiftly deflected her affection, stepping back to maintain a distance. "Save it, Natasha," she responded curtly.

Natasha, trying to shrug off Wanda's cold approach towards her, mentally blamed it on the emotions associated with pregnancy.

"Must be those pregnancy hormones," she murmured under her breath.

As the team continues to surround Wanda, she snuck a glance in your direction. You mouthed a silent "thank you" to her, acknowledging the sacrifice she had made. In turn, Wanda mouthed back a quiet, "Take care and the baby," her words carrying a deep undertone of understanding and worry.

Suddenly, Natasha walked towards you and asked, "Are you okay?" she gently touches your arm. But you ignored her question, choosing to remain silent. Your mind was elsewhere, torn between gratitude towards Wanda for what she did for you and a deep desire to keep your own pregnancy hidden from the team and even from the mother of your child.

Without responding to her, you gently shrugged her hand off your arm and moved past her, walking into the Quinjet. You avoided her gaze, not wanting to betray your emotions.

The Quinjet lifted off, leaving behind a scene of excitement and well wishes for the witch. You retreated into the corner, seeking comfort in the familiarity of your own presence.

As the aircraft ascended, you instinctively placed your hand on your stomach, gently caressing the growing life within.

The team received a mission assignment from Fury to infiltrate a hospital involved in illegal organ trafficking, targeting children. The focus was the children's wing, and the objective was to put an end to the operation. It was emphasized that no stone should be left unturned to ensure the safety of the children involved. The intel also suggested the involvement of Hydra's experimentation. While specific details about their latest projects remain undisclosed, their history in this regard is grim.

Maria approached you, her expression was serious as she sat down beside you. "Left wing, that's ours."

"And it's the center of the operation, correct?" You confirmed, a pit of anxiety knotting in your stomach.

She nodded. "That's right. The operation is taking place there. You ready for this?"

You subconsciously once again placed your hand on your stomach and took a good look at Natasha who was piloting the Quinjet.

"Yes," you murmured, though the nervous tremble in your voice gave you away.

⧗

"Guys."

Natasha, Bucky, and Bruce exchanged looks of concern as they heard Wanda's voice through their comms.

"Wanda?" they called in unison.

Bruce was the first to speak. "You shouldn't be on comms right now. You're supposed to be resting. I'll call Dr. Cho to check on you."

Wanda winced at the mention of Dr. Cho, once again reminded of the cover up she had to do…or the lie rather. She knew the truth, but she couldn't reveal it to the others, she's not in the right position to say it.

The three immediately noticed Wanda's distress and exchanged alarmed glances.

"What's wrong, Wanda?" Bruce asked.

"Where's Y/N?" Wanda hurriedly asked.

"She's out now on the mission with Maria." Bucky informed Wanda through comms.

"I knew this was going to happen. Fuck!" Wanda hissed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Natasha's brow furrowed, barely glancing up from her mission report at the mention of your name.

"Bucky, get her back in." Wanda immediately demanded, ignoring the presence of Natasha through the comms.

Natasha’s confusion deepened, and her frustration grew as Wanda demanded someone else to get her girlfriend back to the Quinjet. "And why should he do that?"

"Just get her back in!" Wanda insisted, her voice rising slightly.

Natasha's frustration peaked, realizing Wanda was deliberately shutting her out. But she remained calm, not wanting to distress her, "Wanda, you must be tired. Right now you should be focusing on yourself and the baby. Y/N will be fine, don't worry. She's good at looking out for herself."

Wanda’s irritation boiled over, her patience wearing thin. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath as she whispered.

"She might have a hard time looking out for two."

"What? What do you mean, Wanda?" Bucky asked once more, trying to grasp the meaning behind Wanda’s words.

"Maria can handle herself just fine, Wanda. Y/N doesn't need to look out for her." Natasha responded dismissively, trying to reassure her once again that you don't need to look out for your partner.

But clearly, Natasha knows nothing.

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, Romanoff! Your girlfriend might have a hard time looking out for herself and for the baby growing in her stomach! So right now, Romanoff I need you to get your girlfriend out on that mission before anything happens to her!" The anger of Wanda echoed through the earpiece of the three Avengers.

"I had to cover up for her earlier, I’m not the one who's pregnant, she was. She doesn't want anyone to know, even you, Natasha, ‘cause it seems like you don't have time to talk about it." Wanda gritted her teeth as she revealed the cover up she did for you.

Then suddenly an urgent call for backup was heard through the comms.

"BACK UP, WE NEED BACK UP!"

It was Maria, her voice sounding strained and her signal cutting in and out.

"Natasha! Y/N…I can't see Y/N, Y/N is taken!"

Natasha's blood ran cold at Maria's words. The word sent a shiver down her spine, and her heart thumped heavily against her chest. She clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

"No," Natasha whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Fear and anger welled up within her as she heard the words.

Without a moment's hesitation, they heard Tony respond, "I'm on my way, Maria. I'll get there as soon as I can. And you Romanoff, you have to get your girlfriend!"

Wanda hissed harshly to Natasha through the comms, "If anything happens to my bestfriend and my niece I will kill you myself, Natasha. I will fucking kill you myself."

Natasha's jaw clenched at Wanda's harsh words. She knew she was only expressing her fear and concern for you and the baby, but the threat still stung.

She gritted her teeth and muttered a retort.

"I will kill myself if I won’t be able to save them. So save it, Wanda."

⧗

The room was eerily quiet, a chill running down Natasha's spine as she scanned her surroundings. She cautiously stepped forward, her senses on high alert. Suddenly, a figure lunged from the shadows, but Natasha was quick to react. Before they could make a move, Natasha had kicked away their weapon and delivered a swift punch to their stomach.

Another figure appeared behind her, but Natasha swiftly dodged the attack and delivered a well-placed kick to their chest.

As she fought off the attackers, Natasha unsheathed her batons, the metal gleaming in the dim light. With a flick of her wrist, she extended them and began to whirl them around, blocking attacks and delivering precise strikes to vulnerable spots. Meanwhile, she kept her other hand free, ready to use her widow bites at a moment's notice.

Natasha's heart raced as she sprinted through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing against the cold concrete. Natasha's mind went on high alert the moment she entered the room and saw you lying unconscious on the bed and a doctor preparing some medical supplies beside you. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight, her adrenaline pumping through her veins, making her nerves tingle.

The doctor spoke up, his voice breaking the tense silence in the room.

"You finally came," he said. "Your wife's been waiting for you.”

"Who are you?!" Natasha's voice held a dangerous edge, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the doctor, her gun pointing at him.

The doctor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, a smug look on his face as he regarded Natasha's gun pointed in his direction.

"Now, now, Romanoff," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern. "You wouldn't want to cause any distress to Mrs. Romanoff here, would you? You might wanna put that gun down."

Natasha’s grip on her gun tightened momentarily before she reluctantly began to lower it. She didn’t want to risk endangering you further by provoking him.

The doctor smirked, clearly amused by her cautiousness. He knows damn well how much power he holds now that he has you captive.

"I'm Doctor Strange. And…I am your wife's doctor for today. She's your wife right? Girlfriend? Partner..? Whore? Whatever you want but I prefer that we call her your wife, okay Romanoff?"

Natasha’s heart plummeted as he pulled out a surgical knife, her fear instantly skyrocketing. "Don't! Do not fucking touch her, I’ll make you regret it!" she snarled, but he seemed unbothered by her threat.

Strange smirked, the glint in his eyes making Natasha's skin crawl. He began to rip your suit open, exposing your stomach.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger but also fear for you.

The doctor chuckled, his expression smug as he began to apply some ultrasound gel to your stomach, his eyes glued to your bare skin.

Strange's tone was mocking as he asked Natasha a question that cut straight to her heart.

"Did you know she was pregnant?" he asked, as if he were casually inquiring about the weather.

Natasha swallowed hard, she almost choke with her words, "I uh...I didn't..."

"You didn't know until now did you?" Strange chuckled, a sadistic smirk on his face not letting her finish, "Oh, that's a shame," he taunted.

"You are bad mother."

Natasha flinched as the words hit her, and for a moment, she was speechless. The words stung, even more than any physical blow could have.

Her mind flashed back to the night before this mission. She remembered that you had tried to talk to her, begged her to have a conversation but she dismissed you.

Now she hated herself for that, the realization hit her with a sickening weight, and she silently berated herself for her ignorance. You shouldn't be here if she listened to you.

Strange hummed as he began to move the transducer around your stomach. He looked up at Natasha, a sly smile on his face.

"I wasn't always a doctor, you know," he said, his tone almost nostalgic. "In fact," he continued, his gaze returning to the monitor. "I started out working with Hydra when my sister died."

"You might have heard of them, right? For sure you intel already informed you that. Not exactly the most upstanding group of people." He murmured.

"Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!"

Natasha's eyes flickered towards the ultrasound machine, her heart pounding as she saw a life, her offspring on your stomach. The sight of the tiny, flickering image of the baby inside you softened her expression momentarily.

Strange chuckled as he watched Natasha. He leaned casually against the counter, one hand resting on the ultrasound machine before he got back to examine your stomach once again.

"As I was saying," he continued, his tone casual. "I didn't want to remain a lowly foot soldier forever," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I wanted more power, more control. So I branched out on my own."

Strange pressed the transducer deeper into your stomach, causing you to whimper in pain.

"Don’t—"

The doctor immediately pointed her finger in the air, shushing her.

He then continued, his tone nonchalant, his gaze fixed on the monitor, watching the image of your stomach intently. "I started my own precious business and then…"

"Everything I'd worked for, years of hard work and sacrifice!" he spat out, the pressure of the transducer increased and he watched how it dug deeper to your stomach on the monitor. "And you, Avengers just waltz in like they own the place and ruin it all!"

Strange paused, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. The pressure on your abdomen tightened slightly before he glanced at Natasha, his expression almost apologetic.

"Sorry," he said, his tone smoothing back to its usual calm. "I didn't mean to shout. It's bad for the baby, you know." He chuckled softly, his hand gently caressing your stomach.

Natasha's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Strange's expression shift from calm to enraged in an instant. His words and his behavior were unpredictable, and that made her all the more anxious. She maintained a facade of calm, her eyes never leaving you.

"Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. Heartbeat is good as you can see there." He smiled, an evil one, his eyes flicking up to Natasha, wanting her to take a good look on the monitor.

Natasha's expression remained neutral, her eyes fixed on the ultrasound monitor as Strange pointed out the heartbeat of your baby.

He then slowly grabbed the surgical knife and his eyes scanning Natasha's face for any reaction. A cunning smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he noticed her flinch.

"Isn't that nice?" he said, his tone clearly a mockery.

"Must be hard," with a sinister edge to his voice. "Knowing there's nothing you can do to protect what's most precious to you."

The doctor's laughter was cold and cruel. But what was truly horrifying was the way his gaze dropped to your abdomen, and he began to caress your stomach with a gesture that made Natasha's skin crawl.

"All you can do is watch and pray I don't do anything...unwanted," he repeated, his tone sickly sweet.

"Oh, did that scare you?" he asked, his voice dripping with menace. "Why are you scared? You're not the one lying on this table?"

He chuckled darkly, waving the knife in front of her face.

Strange's fingers continued to play with the knife, slowly twirling it around in his hand. He seemed to take pleasure in seeing how it made Natasha uneasy. Her breath quickened and her heart pounded against her chest as she watched him.

She tried to keep her emotions in check, desperately wanting to remain calm, but the sight of the gleaming blade in his hand made her instinct scream in alarm.

Strange leaned back, the knife momentarily forgotten in his hand as he turned his attention to your still unconscious form. He moved closer to you, his fingers gently prying your eyelids open.

"Beautiful eyes," he commented, a hint of admiration in his voice. "These eyes could be a valuable asset to the right people."

Natasha's ears perked up at Strange's words, a lump forming in her throat as she realized his intentions.

"What the fuck did you say?"

"Oh, Romanoff. Your baby might hear you curse. You'll kiss your baby with that mouth?"

He moved away from examining your eyes, setting the knife down on the counter. He reached for a file that was among the various medical supplies and paperwork scattered around the room. He flipped through the pages, reading aloud to Natasha.

"Martin Joseph Novarich," he said, his eyes scanning the file. "He's just eight years old. Familiar with the name?”

Strange continued to read from the file, oblivious to Natasha's inner struggle.

"The boy has a rare genetic disorder that affects his eyesight," he said. "He needs a corneal transplant to restore his vision, and the process requires a perfect donor match. And his father, the president, is willing to do anything to save his only child.”

Strange smirked, his eyes scanning Natasha's face.

"Think about it," he said, his tone almost teasing. "Your wife's eyes could give the president's son a new lease on life. Or her liver could help someone else in desperate need."

Her anger flared at his words, her muscles tensing as she struggled to control her emotions when he started listing off your organs one by one, suggesting that it could be used for donation. The thought of your organs being harvested like some kind of donor bank was almost too much to bear, it made her skin crawl, it made her blood boil.

"And let's not forget," Strange added, a sly note to his voice, "that she might have more than just one healthy organ."

"She's an agent," he pointed out. "She probably leads a healthy lifestyle, so her organs are likely in great shape. And I think yours too, Romanoff.”

Strange suddenly put on a fake frown, pretending to be remorseful as he took a glance on your abdomen.

"Oh, my apologies," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "I almost forgot about the poor, innocent child in your wife's stomach." He grabbed a cloth and wiped the gel out of your skin’s abdomen.

He then trailed the knife over your stomach, Natasha's breath hitched in her throat.

"Don't," she hissed, her eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare.”

The doctor continued to trail the surgical knife and then he finally nicked the skin on your abdomen, Natasha's face contorted with anger and horror.

"Oops…too late. Just a small one, don't worry." Strange chuckled darkly, his eyes locking with Natasha's. Her eyes trailing between the knife and on your stomach.

A loud booming sound rang outside the room, startling both Strange and Natasha. Seeing an opportunity, Natasha reached for the gun she had to put down earlier. She aimed it at Strange, who slowly raised his hands in surrender.

In a desperate move, Strange pushed your bed towards Natasha, trying to interfere with her aim and make her miss. However, Natasha was too quick and too skilled. She pulled your bed towards her and immediately placed your unconscious state behind her back making sure that your bed was within range.

She immediately turned when she heard a clinking sound. Natasha fired, the bullet hitting Strange in the shoulder.

"I missed." Natasha sighed as she placed the gun at your bed.

Natasha's voice was icy as she spoke, her eyes locked on Strange's face.

"You know what, doctor?" Natasha set the gun down on your bed. Her hand moved to your cheek, gently caressing it before moving slowly and gently over your stomach, wiping away some of the blood that slowly dripped there.

Natasha walked over to where the doctor was cowering, a surgical knife in her hand. She knelt in front of him trailing the knife in the wounded shoulder.

"I am a great shot when I'm pissed."

She then held his shoulder ignoring his startled yelp of pain, she deftly used the knife to dig deeper into his shoulder, intent on retrieving the bullet lodged there. She extracted it from his flesh.

As she dug deeper, working to extract the bullet, Strange cried out in pain. But instead of feeling any remorse, Natasha felt a deep sense of satisfaction at seeing him suffer. She knew she had the upper hand now, and she was going to make him pay for what he had done to you.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" she muttered, her eyes fixed on his face. “I told you, I’ll make you regret...”

"Touching..."

"My..."

"Wife!"

With a final tug, Natasha finally got the bullet with a satisfied smirk briefly crossing her face. Natasha picked up the gun from your bed, loaded the bullet back in the chamber and spun it slowly with a flick of her wrist.

She turned her gaze back to Strange, who was still reeling from the pain. Her voice was low and dangerous as she spoke.

"And doctor," she said, the gun pointed straight at his head.

"I don't waste a bullet. Ever."

Author's Note: Part 2? Idk, you tell me! ;)))

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GHOST!HAN, MEDIUM!READER, MASTURBATION, SEX TOYS, PERV!HAN, EXHIBITIONISM (?), POSSESSION, PENETRATION, UNPROTECTED SEX (?), MULTIPLE ROUNDS (2), MULTIPLE ORGASMS, DOM!JISUNG, PET NAMES (BABY, BABE). THE WORD “PERVERT” IS JOKINGLY THROWN AROUND, LMK IF I MISSED SOMETHING! ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The moment Y/n stepped into the apartment to tour it, she knew there was something in there. The relator did disclose someone had recently died in the apartment —which explained the lowered price compared to most units in the building. And she’d have to be crazy to not take that deal.

     A month after moving in, is when she actually noticed it. She’d always been more sensitive to the dead, seeing ghosts and the like. Never really interacted until now. 

     It was a long day after work. She was sitting on the couch watching one of her shows, trying to destress. Then she saw him. At first, she felt his presence and turned to him. The ghost had zero clue she had actually seen him. 

     “You know I can see you, right?” she asked him

     He blinked and took a moment to realize she was talking to him. 

     “Me?” he asked, pointing to himself 

     “Is there another ghost here I don’t know about?” 

     It was a very weird friendship from that point on. It was like having a pet. Jisung was always there, never left, a good companion. He just wasn’t as expensive as a pet. Oddly, he became one of her best friends and she told everything to him. And who was he going to tell?

     “What’s one thing you miss about living?” Y/n asked him one night as they were watching an anime he suggested.

     “Besides coffee and food; sex,” Jisung admitted 

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. Speaking of sex, you’re loud.”

     “Do you listen to me masturbating?” Y/n looked at him

     “Not by choice? I haunt this small one bedroom one bath unit. It’s hard not to hear,” Jisung defended himself. 

     “Perv,” Y/n joked and threw a pillow at him, just for it to go through him. 

     Jisung was very good at being able to take energy to take somewhat of a physical form. He was able to sit on the couch and chairs and pick up small items. Still was able to walk through basically everything and stuff mostly phased through him. Helped a bit that Y/n was a natural medium so he could pull from her to stabilize himself in the land of the living. 

     “Me?! I’ve seen some of the guys you’ve brought home! They are into some weird grade-A pervert things.”

     “I can’t even defend them because you’re right,” Y/n sighed, “They all suck in bed anyways.”

     “I know. Need I remind you of last weekend?”

     “No.” Y/n flushed, remembering when the guy she invited over in the midst of being just absolutely desperate for an actual cock.

     The guy had left after he finished and didn’t bother helping her get off and he was just an ass the whole time. Jisung watched the guy leave not even an hour later. He locked the apartment door after him before going and checking on her. 

     He didn’t think much of just walking through the wall into her room, only the be met with her fucking herself on a dildo. He should have left after but he definitely didn’t. She didn’t even notice his presence until after she finished.

     “You didn’t need to watch,” Y/n sighed

     “I mean, it was kind of hot,” Jisung shrugged 

     “Perv,” Y/n called him again

     “I can’t even really deny it now.” The two laughed as they switched their topic to the dumbass shit the mc in the anime was doing at the moment. 

     Three in the morning, Y/n was turning in bed, unable to sleep, and thinking about her earlier conversation with her ghost best friend. At the time the incident happened, she was shocked at him but thinking about it late at night, it was kind of hot.

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned, dipping her hand into her pajama pants and panties. Rubbing circles into her clit slowly. 

     She could feel Jisung close by in the small apartment. Not in the bedroom, but close. Y/n moved down to push a finger into her, eyes shut as she went through rubbing her walls and thrusting her finger in and out. 

     It wasn’t enough though. Even after she added a second finger into her, it wasn’t satisfying. She pulled her fingers out and sat up, grabbing a dildo and lube bottle from her bedside drawer and stripping herself of her pajamas and panties, rubbing lube on the toy before slowly pushing it into her, imagining her ghost roommate instead. 

     Jisung heard a noise coming from her room. At first, he thought nothing but curiosity hit. He stood outside her cracked door. Then he heard his name being moaned from inside. He went into the room and his jaw dropped at the sight. 

     The pretty girl that had moved into his old apartment in the wake of his death, was laying stark naked in his old room fucking herself with a toy, moaning his name. He didn’t know ghosts could get hard until now. 

     His eyes raked all along her body from her pretty cunt to her perky nipples. He was frozen. Not knowing what to do. Should he say something? Would she let him fuck her instead? Could he even fuck her?

     “Please, Ji. Wanna come,” Y/n whined as she pumped the dildo in and out of her. 

     If he could be in any more shock, he would. She was really fucking herself to the thought of him. God he wished he was alive. 

     Y/n sensed him in the room now. She was too wrapped up in her pleasure to look for him. Her legs opened more, slightly hoping he was watching her fuck herself again. The thought alone turned her on more. Suddenly she felt it get colder near her bed before it dipped down at the end. She slowed down and opened her eyes. 

     Jisung was leaning forward on the bed, eyes glued to her cunt. “Keep going baby,” Han told her. 

     Y/n felt shy all of a sudden. Legs closing to his view but he was quick. Pushed her legs open, sitting between them now. Y/n looked at him with wide eyes, no longer even trying to use the dildo. 

     “Don’t get all shy on me baby. Do you need me to help you get off now?” Jisung pushed the dildo into her again, a whine escaping her

     “Please, Ji. Need your help.”

     Her hand fell away as Jisung took over. Using all the energy he had to hold the base and quickly thrust the dildo in and out of her, watching as her hands moved to play with her nipples and head threw back into her pillow. Then he got an idea. 

     He didn’t know if it would work. But if he could phase through walls and sit on the sofa, he could try. 

     He worked the dildo with one hand as he pushed down his sweats. He was glad he did comfy and was going through the afterlife in a hoodie and sweats. His cock sprung free before he pushed the toy deep into her. 

     He took his hand off the toy and pushed himself into it, stopping when he got to his pelvis. Slowly, he pulled out, testing to see if the dildo would come with him. And it did. 

     Jisung smiled as Y/n looked down. Her face went red when she realized he had possessed the dildo. All thoughts left her as he harshly pushed back in, hands holding her hips. Her eyes went wide while Jisung fucked her. 

     His hands were cold on her skin. They left a trail of goosebumps on her skin as they ran up her skin and grabbed her breasts. Nipples hardened more under his phantom touch. 

     Her back arches as the toy hit a particular spot inside her. Legs shaking the longer he fucked her, not losing any stamina. Hips rolling against his before she finally came. Cursing and calling his name as she gripped her sheets. 

     Jisung slowed his pace down to let her come down from her high. He pulled the toy out and his own dick out of it as well while she caught her breath. Jisung looked over the faux cock covered in her juices. He really wished it was his dick instead that was covered. 

     Y/n focused on him staring at the toy. His own cock was still hard between her legs. 

     “Ji,” Y/n called to him. He focused back on her, one hand still on her breasts. 

     “Can I… please let me fuck you babe.” He squeezed her breasts. Y/n moaned before mumbling a “yes” for only him to hear. 

     Jisung wasted no time pushing himself into her again. It was an odd feeling at first. To feel full but not at the same time. Didn’t stop her from feeling him pounding her sensitive hole. 

     Y/n could only imagine just how good he was when he was alive. How she wished they met when he was still breathing. Probably would have saved so much heartbreak and shitty one-night stands. Especially with the way he was talking. 

     “Fuck. Wish I could feel you,” Jisung groaned, leaning over her and groping her breasts. 

     Everything around her was hot but cold at the same time. She was sensitive from the first orgasm on the toy but the odd feeling of Jisung inside her was doing more than she thought it would. 

     One thing she quickly figured out Jisung was a hundred percent a shit-talker during sex when he was alive. Proven by the way he was mumbling about “no one alive is gonna make you feel this good” and the “got you all pretty on my cock, huh? Like having your ghost roommate fuck you silly?”

     Definitely not Casper the Friendly Ghost but he could at least prove his shit talk. He did indeed have her fucked silly at the current moment.

     “Gonna come Ji,” Y/n warned him as her fingers reached between her legs to play with her clit

     “Give it to me baby. Wanna see you come for me,” His eyes watched where he disappeared in her and where she was playing with her clit. 

     Y/n bit her lower lip as she came for a second time that night because of her horny ghost roommate. 

     Jisung didn’t stop until moments later. He was burying himself in her before pulling out. He definitely felt the motions of an orgasm but when he pulled out, nothing followed nor did he feel anything come out. 

     “Damn. No more creampies,” He tsked after a minute once they both came down from their highs. 

     “You poor thing,” Y/n giggled as she sat up on her elbows. 

     “Maybe I should possess your next hook-up,” Jisung joked

     “They’d probably fuck better if you did.”

     Y/n for up on shaky legs to clean up so she could get some sleep. 

     “It wasn’t weird? Fucking a ghost?” Jisung asked once she came back to her room and tossed her pajamas back on. 

     “Kinda. But in a good way,” Y/n answered as she lay down under her covers

     “I wish I was still alive,” Jisung sighed as he lay next to her

     “Me too. But, we could probably have a lot more fun with you being a ghost.”

     “Who's the pervert now?”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[dixons-sunshine]

Pillow Fort—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Daryl was nowhere to be found during the day. Everyone was worried, considering the man never missed meetings, no matter how unimportant they were. However, your worries got soothed when you saw what he had been up to that day.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (bridge explosion doesn't happen.)

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 860.

A/n: Here's this. I don't know what this is but it's something. Hope y'all like it!

“I'll see you tomorrow for a check-up, Michonne.” You slung your bag over your shoulder as you addressed your newly pregnant friend, Michonne standing on the porch of her home with Rick by her side. “I think Siddiq's brining an ultrasound machine with him from the Hilltop. That would give us a relative idea of how far along you are.”

Michonne gave you a smile as she tenderly rubbed her flat stomach—that wouldn't stay flat for long—with one hand, her other hand tightly holding on to her husband's. “Thank you.” She stopped momentarily to share a look with Rick, before continuing. “Keep us updated once you find out why Daryl hasn't been seen all day?”

You nodded. “Of course.” You took a step back and sent them another smile. “Goodnight, guys. See you tomorrow.” With parting greetings, you turned around and made your way to your own home. The short walk soon came to an end when you walked up the steps and into your home, and instantly you could see something was up. The small chair that stood by the door was devoid of any cushioning, the pillows taken and not to be seen anywhere.

You frowned as you discarded of your bag by placing it on the floor, your jacket and shoes following suite. As you walked further into the home and into the living room, you could hear the voices of your husband and daughter fill the air, laughter soon being heard as well. As the living room came into view, you were met by quite the sight—seemingly every pillow and blanket you owned was being used to hold a rather impressive pillow fort upright. And sitting in the very fort in question was your husband and daughter, cuddled up together while Daryl was busy reading some book to her. A fond smile spread across your lips at the sight. Unwillingly, a small chuckle left you, catching your small family's attention.

Your three year old daughter perked up when she saw you, a huge smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Mama!” She excitedly exclaimed, but made no effort to run into your arms like she usually would, way too content in her father's arms. You couldn't blame her, though. Daryl was the best person to cuddle and you rarely wanted to leave his hold yourself.

You smiled and stepped forward. “Hi, baby.” Your eyes drifted to Daryl, meeting his fond gaze. “Hey, Dar. You two mind if I come in?” Hazel shook her head, scooting over in the makeshift bed to make room for you. You crawled into space and got comfortable beside Hazel, wrapping an arm around her and sharing a smile with Daryl. “I didn't mean to interrupt storytime. Please, continue.”

Daryl nodded and shifted his attention back down to the book. “As ya wish.” He cleared his throat and started reading again, his deep, soothing voice successfully lulling your daughter into slumber. In seemingly no time at all, Hazel was out like a light, leaving you and Daryl to yourselves. He placed the book down next to him and turned his attention back to you. “How was yer day, Peach?”

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm guessing,” you giggled, rubbing Hazel's head affectionately. “Is this what you've been up to all day?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Made 'er some breakfast this mornin' and she took great interest in makin' lil' forts with the small pillows. Decided to show her how to make the real deal.”

“Boring meetings be damned, right?”

Realization dawned on the archer's face, a look of guilt spreading across his face. “Shit, I forgot 'bout tha'. I promised Rick I'd be there and I got distracted. Fuck, I—”

“Babe, relax,” you chuckled, reaching over to grab one of his hands in yours. “Rick isn't mad. He was just worried because it isn't like you to miss a meeting. I bet he'll understand you wanting to spend the day with your daughter instead of discussing who stole Jeremy's tomatoes from his garden. It's okay. Besides.” You stopped to regard the fort for a moment, nodding in approval. “Once he sees this fort, I bet he'll be hella impressed. It's amazing craftsmanship, if I do say so myself.”

Daryl gave you a small smile. “Think Rick'll be jealous?”

You nodded. “Once he sees this, a fort-off is sure to commence.” You leaned over to share a soft, tender kiss with Daryl, pulling away soon after as to not disturb your little girl. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, Darlin'.”

Little did either of you know, not only would a fort-off begin, but the greatest gift-finding, playset-building competition would commence between the two found brothers. And you and Michonne didn't know whether to find it amusing or annoying.

[gamblersdoll]

cw: semi cheating trope, cucking, doggy style, masturbation (m) spitting, katsuki being really mean in this one, slapping.

this felt dirty and wrong, izuku thought. the way he felt about you was greater than his past crush for ochaco, yet here he was. the obsessive and adoration he had for you was no match, but here he was.

here he was pressing down on katsuki’s head as he went down on izuku, him slightly gagging on his length and pushing away. “fuck– you getting too rough, deku.” he spits, glaring up at him. “calm down this time.”

he nods, eyes filled with lust and his judgement clouded. he didnt notice the two missed calls you had given him, nor the four missed messages. his fingers trail through katsuki’s head, yet his balls lurched when katsuki licked his lips.

“zuku, what are you—“ you say, opening the door and looking at your phone. until your eyes meet the two, katsuki on his knees while izuku sits on his bed, manspreading.

both of their hearts thump, a cold nervous sweat on both of their faces and hands as you just stand there, bewildered. your heart clenches, feeling sadness, but more of disappointment and rage filling your veins.

“baby—“ izuku starts, but gets cut off by you.

“nah nah, fuck you!” you shout, turning around and slamming the door. it had to be about nine in the evening, so everyone was already downstairs chilling out.

it took you about a month or two to settle your nerves, feeling rage and betrayal from him just getting his dick sucked from his childhood friend.

a friend who also just so happen to be friends with you, surprisingly. thats what threw you off, katsuki just so suddenly became friends with you and wasn’t completely an ass to you. you at first thought nothing of it, but now it made sense.

your mind stops thinking, your ears and eyes being drawn to the message ping on your phone. izuku had texted, asking to meet in his dorm to talk.

should you even fucking bother? maybe. let hear what this bitch had to say.

“so— first i want to say im so sorry.” he starts, hands on his bouncing knees and eyes darting around. he picked at his nails, katsuki having to pull his hands apart. that only added salt to the wound, because what the fuck was he doing here?

“and why does bakugou have to be here for this?” you ask, growing impatient and tapping your foot. he looks up to your eyes, the glare you gave was mean, hurting his heart.

the “because he has involvement with this— its not what you think!” he quickly says, hands up in defense and looking to you and katsuki.

“so..”

“uhum–“ he tried, swallowing thickly and takes a deep breath. “so.. you remember when i told you i was bi, right? before we got together?” he starts, knee bouncing faster harder. you nod, eyes raised in a “yeah, no shit.” look. “well.. kacchan and i had been talking since we made up, and we started to like you as well.”

youre feet stop tapping, heart stopping and you start a glare. “hold on! and we started to like you and it kinda separated us for a couple weeks, thats when me and you were first dating and we had that big fight that you had to separate.” he rambles, katsuki flicking him to stay on topic.

“and uh, me and kacchan made up again after you both became friends and we wanted to ask you in person if you could give a threeway a shot!”

you just stare, looking at the both of them and watching katsuki just lean back. that made your blood boil, the way hes just acting all casual.

katsuki notices, manspreading himself and staring right back at you. “if you got something to say, say it.” he states, testing to see who and what you were.

you say nothing, biting your tongue and looking back to the green haired boy. “that’s absolutely bullshit and you know it.” you say, finding that shit unbelievable and quite frankly, offensive. “you mean to tell me that you both were fucking on the down low and then i just peaked both of your interest, you got together with me and all of a sudden you want a three way?”

“aint that what he just said?” katsuki finally speaks and chimes in, eyebrow raised.

you feel like a snapping point, like your ready to reach across and slap the fuck out of him for even speaking to you at all. “you can shut the fuck up, baku—“

at that point, he had heard enough between you and izuku. he reaches out, grabbing you by your throat and giving a slight choke. your thighs quiver, it being an instant trigger for you to become a mess.

“kacc—!”

“nah, you took too long with your fuckin’ delivery.” he says, hand groping a breast and leading you to the bed. “youre the one who told me this the shit she likes, so i’m fuckin’ her.”

and if those words werent a trigger for you, it was for izuku. his cock grows hard, his shorts becoming a restriction to his length and he groans.

katsuki’s lips crash onto yours, him effortlessly taking a hand and freeing himself from his boxers and tapping it against your skin. “you want it, dont you?” he teases, ripping the shorts off of your skin and rubbing circles into your clit.

his hand pries open your mouth, his eyes lowering. “open.” he says, curling his lips and spitting into your wet cavern. he looks over to izuku, izuku already freeing himself and spitting on his own length. “you see that there?” he points, whispering in your ear.

“thats what he does when he thinks about me fucking you like some common whore.” he reveals, chuckling in your ear. “he been waitin’ for this, to see me fuck you relentless and he watch.” he says again, slapping your clit and pinching it.

“zuku—“ your voice tries, sounding hoarse and katsuki focusing on your face now. he lands a somewhat hard slap to it, forcing you to look only at him.

“dont look at him, why are you looking at him? whos about to fuck you?” katsuki presses, fingers digging their way into your walls. “huh? whos about to fuck this pussy hm?”

you stutter, the intrusion being too much and you claw at his skin. “katsuki! shit—“

“yeah, thats right. im the one fucking you, not him. he assures, fingers finished from curling inside onto your gspot and forcing themselves into your mouth. “you dont get to cum, yet, either.”

you suckle on his fingers, eyes rolling back from the sheer force of his demands and tossing. he flips you over, face in the mattress and him grabbing you by your hips. shit, could you do this? doggy you cant even handle with izuku.

you try to look up, only catching a glimpse of izuku fisting his cock and his face flushed.

you squeal, feeling the heat from katsuki’s tip slip inside of your walls and hitting that spot already. the spot that hadnt been touched in however long you and izuku hadnt talked. “fuck, i can see what you mean by her being a tight space.” katsuki groans, hand gripping a hip and shoulder blade.

he starts immediately thrusting at such a violent place, but you knew he was going to be like that. “some fucking girlfriend you fuckin’ had!” katsuki laughs, his hips snapping into yours and balls slapping at your clit. “just some fucking whore that needed a good dick!”

you moan into the mattress, drooling against it and eyes rolling harder to your skull. you clawed at the sheets, hearing izuku lose himself in his fist as he watched his fuck buddy, his childhood best friend fuck his pretty girlfriend.

you choke, his cock angled at a different spot that had never been used or touched. “oh shit, you havent fucked her this way either, huh?” he grins, his hips angling themselves better and he spits onto the curve of your back. “yeah? he doesnt fuck you good like i do, huh?” he asks, a harsh slap to your ass.

“no— no no fuck!” you moan, going stupid from the intrusion, the sheer force of his hips alone making you go dumb. your tummy clenched, feeling your clit throb more than anything until it hurt.

“fuck, shes about to cum, deku.” he growls in a praise, his palms pressing down on your lower back as he slams his bodyweight into the thrusts.

you squeal, that coil tightening and hearing izuku lose himself in his own orgasm at the same time. you had missed hearing him cum, you both usually always have a simultaneous orgasm together at the same time.

“cum in her— breed her pussy please, kacchan.” he pleads, his hand shines with his seed and sweat that came from fucking his cock.

katsuki loses himself in a matter of time, approximately two minutes after you both had came and it was all because of how good you felt and that izuku just wanted to watch you get fucked by his childhood friend. his own rival.

[memysoulandi]

Jason Grace, so much potential...

Actually this goes for the entire lost trio. The AMOUNT of TRAUMA these three had and the potential for character development they had too is UNREAL, yet nothing was done. Let us begin my personal beliefs

Leo:

-Delve into his trauma of his remaining family deciding he was the devil at age EIGHT and refusing to take him in-abandonment issues

-Have his constant feelings of invalid-ness and being the unneeded member of the seven be corrected by giving him CLOSE FRIENDS HE PIPER AND JASON NEED TO BE CLOSER AT THE VERY LEAST and conversations when he realizes he is wanted and needed

-Don't have Calypso storyline in there-he didn't need a girlfriend to solve his problems, if you have it, have it as good friends-another member of his support group

-Make him gay and have valgrace or slowburn/implied valgrace(the two of them pining then like kinda tragic as Leo dies)

Piper:

-Have her lesbian storyline occur in HoO where she's a main character-it's an important storyline for her character that deserves a spotlight and time that ToA couldn't give it

-No Jiper! This relationship was toxic and founded on fake memories-if you're going to do it, do it as a part of her LGBTQIA+ journey and Jason's as well

-Don't have her demonize femininity! She can wear dresses! She can wear makeup! She can present more feminine and still be the same character and her hatred of any and all things feminine is not good representation! Make her a feminist, please! Or at least make her less against femininity as a whole.

-No kaleidoscope eyes! Give her brown eyes and also have her rediscovering her culture storyline as a part of HoO too!

Jason:

-Make him a better fighter than Percy. He has been at Camp Jupiter since the age of three and spent a year with wolves before then. He has spent his entire life in a military setting training, he should be a better swordfighter than Percy 'I show up to summer camp at age 12 to 16 and only really use my sword then' Jackson.

-Give him more powers. Or Percy less. Children of the big three should be equal in potential power, not Percy being OP and the others having lightning or shadows powers some of the time. Percy needs less power and Jason, Thalia, Hazel, and Nico need more. Jason should have more power than Percy as he has had longer to train it.

-Give him a personality. His storyline in HoO should be a journey of self-discovery. He has always been another member of an army, with constant pressure on him to be the best at everything and a strong confident leader who doesn't make mistakes as a son of Jupiter. His entire life has been dictated by those around him. For the first time, he is free of that and he needs to be discovering things like how he likes to dress, his style, his sexuality, his likes and dislikes, and his personality. In my opinion he should be kinda shy with a feral edge, side effect of the wolves, who is always trying to people please. When he stops doing this, he becomes significantly happier and a greater use to the team. Plus valgrace;D.

-Also, make him despise Percy at the beginning. He worked his entire life to be an afterthought that nobody looked for when he went missing for months, while Percy was looked for by everyone after only a few days. Percy achieved everything he wanted in a matter of weeks in New Rome and he was happy and had friends and a life. Percy has everything Jason doesn't. They need to have a moment where they are locked together and Percy goes "why do you hate me" and Jason breaks down because "You have everything I want and you don't even have to try!". This would create a better relationship for them and be the turning point for Jason as Percy hears what he has to say and validates him. Also Jason personality.

-Don't kill him off and continue his self-discovery journey in ToA.

-Make him and Thalia have a closer relationship that in the months between TLH and TSoN, it is implied that they spend time together. He should feel safe with her and they needed more interactions as they are SIBLINGs, god damit.

-Make him and Reyna just friends-she wanted to look for him but couldn't 'cause Octavian(the bitch) and someone needed to be Praetor in his absence.

-Also give him history with Octavian-ex-friends or something give me drama.

[clingonlikeclingwrap]

PJO Hogwarts AU! Notes below:

- Kronos is Voldemort. Obviously. He was vanquished by Zeus years ago, but is on the rise and can only be defeated by the “Chosen One” (for neither can live while the other survives yadda yadda)

- The “Chosen One” is one of the Big Three’s children—not even just the first to turn 16, just one of them

- The whole point of the AU is people trying to figure out which one out of Percy, Nico, and Jason is the “Chosen One” while all of them are secretly hoping for it to be one of the others

- Death Eaters tracked down and targeted the kids after hearing the prophecy, resulting in Bianca’s death pre-enrolment to Hogwarts. She fended them off while telling Nico to escape 🥲

- Thus, Nico shows up to Hogwarts already having lost faith in the system and edgy and sad asf. But there’s no real reason to blame Percy so they don’t have that complicating their relationship further

- Thalia turned into the Whomping Willow. No idea how or why. She also turns back at some point. No idea how or why. Drops out of school to become an underage Auror? No idea how or why.

- I fully researched Hogwarts house qualities before sorting them. I was so deep into it. Percy’s loyalty speaks for itself. Jason was difficult but I shoved him into Gryffindor. And a friend suggested Nico be in Gryffindor but just be really disgruntled about it, so that’s where he is. He has to deal with the passionate reckless assholes while in denial about being a passionate reckless asshole. (Also Nico & Jason bonding opportunities :D)

- Due to Slytherin being now inhabited practically solely by Hermes kids (who are not all related in this AU), Slytherin has totally lost its reputation as the “evil” house, and now proudly carries the tag of “Prankster House”. They’re like Fred and George Weasley except the pranking is a house-wide phenomenon

- Jason attended Durmstrang where he was held to insanely high standards as a model student/leader. After the Tri-Wizard tournament he decided to transfer to Hogwarts instead (all the Camp Jupiter kids are at Durmstrang.)

- Jason becomes Quidditch captain. Percy is duelling club captain. Percy is a god awful flier and it’s safer for everyone if he never touched a broom. Both constantly try to recruit Nico into their respective extracurriculars.

Some bonus character houses:

Gryffindor: Nico, Jason, Clarisse, Calypso, Grover, Piper, and “the Stoll brothers are in Gryffindor solely due to their lack of fear for consequences”

Hufflepuff: Percy, Will Solace, Meg

Slytherin: Annabeth (fucking fight me on this I dare you) (I’m joking I’m sensitive and I’ll cry) (but I won’t lose bitch square up), Thalia, Luke, Ethan Nakamura, Drew, the whole of Hermes cabin (minus the Stoll brothers)

Ravenclaw: Leo, the whole of Athena cabin (minus Annabeth), probably most of Hephaestus cabin too, I wish there were more specific characters but I cannot think of any rn tbh

(I probably missed some characters but anyway 🤷)

[modanisgf]

005. STUCK ON YOU (WRITTEN)

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haerin sat silently in front of her school, waiting for her best friend. they always walked home together, the two having grown very close over the years. but recently, y/n had been acting different. this school year y/n went into basketball, which haerin was happy for her. y/n loved basketball, she always tried to get haerin into it but she always refused. it's what made haerin think y/n and her were slowly growing apart.

y/n found new friends, people who actually had her interests and haerin felt that she was going to be left in the dust. y/n had helped haerin with a lot of things over the years, and haerin felt differently about her.

sure haerin had other friends like danielle, but she never felt such feelings for them like she did y/n. haerin was confused entirely on the situation, choosing to push those feelings to the side. she didn’t need y/n thinking she was weird, especially if she wanted her to keep being her friend.

but haerin couldn’t help but feel her heart hurt a bit at the sight of y/n leaving school with ningning, the two slowly approaching her.

“hi haerin!” y/n said, smiling widely at her best friend.

ningning simply waved, the girl seemingly stressed over something.

“hi y/n.” haerin said, returning ningning’s wave before getting up from her spot.

the three of them started walking together to their neighborhood, ningning and y/n discussing something about basketball. haerin wished she could contribute but she never really had interest in sports, so she just listened as they ranted on about their stupid coach.

“she stresses me out so bad, i don’t know how karina did it last year. she said she’s glad to be in highschool now and that the coach is actually nice.” ningning says.

“wow really? i can’t wait until we graduate then, i really wanna do basketball but it’s hard to maintain everything else in my life with so many practices.” y/n says, ning nodding in agreement.

“i miss karina too, she made it a lot better. i bet she’d like you.” ningning says.

“she seems cool.” y/n states, averting her gaze to haerin.

haerin’s eyes seemed focused on the ground, the girl was probably lost in thought.

“haerin?” y/n called out to her friend, the girl immediately looking up at her.

“yeah?” haerin says.

“you alright?” y/n asks, a concerned look taking over her face.

haerin had always been quiet but never this quiet, and especially not with y/n.

“yeah, don’t worry.” haerin says, trying to look anywhere but at y/n.

y/n didn’t reply, she knew something was up. she knew haerin too well, she would probably ask later. maybe haerin felt uncomfortable with talking about it in front of ningning.

the rest of the walk was pretty silent, ning and y/n talking about basketball briefly. ningning’s house was the first on the block, so she left before both of them.

ning waved to the two before entering her house, leaving haerin and y/n in a bit of an awkward silence.

y/n was confused about haerin’s behavior, truly being worried for the girl. it felt like they had been set back in time, back to when haerin was y/n’s seat mate the day they met.

y/n couldn’t help but tap haerin on the shoulder, the latter looking up.

“haerin are you really okay? you’re quieter than usual.” y/n asks, concern all over her at this point.

haerin blinked slowly like she always did before speaking up, “do you still want to be my friend?” she asks, eyes meeting her friends.

y/n felt her heart break at the look haerin was giving her, “of course haerin, you’re my best friend.”

“you shouldn’t have to ever worry about whether or not i want to be your friend, i’ll always be even through everything that happens in our future.” yn says, not missing haerin’s small smile.

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too haerin.”

—

haerin was waiting at the bus stop, having to take the bus today due to the rain. she never liked the rain, the loud noises and gloomy weather always made her feel sad.

danielle was by her side today, as you were nowhere to be seen.

"haerin, is y/n coming on the bus with us today?" danielle asks.

"i'm not sure, she hasn't texted me anything. maybe her mom picked her up." haerin shrugs.

danielle made a shocked face, confusing haerin until she turned around. there you were walking with woonhak and jaehyun, people who you swore you hated just weeks ago.

"when did they become friends?!" danielle whisper yelled to haerin, the girl didn't respond being too in shock.

the two boys were joking around, making you laugh too as the three of you made your way to the bus stop.

"hi rin, hi danielle!" you say, smiling at both of them.

"sorry i got held up, woonhak and jaehyun wanted to show me some shooting tips." you say, the two nervously smiling at haerin and danielle.

haerin chose to stay silent, waving at you before starting a conversation with danielle. you were confused, but continued talking to woonhak and jaehyun.

"yo, you didn't tell us you were friends with danielle!" woonhak whispers.

"why does it matter?" you question.

"in short woonhak's stupid, he somehow has beef with everyone." jaehyun says, making you realize.

"oh yeah, i used to hate him." you say, not noticing your words.

"wait hello?! what did i do?” woonhak exclaims, making you and jaehyun laugh.

“don’t worry about it, it’s in the past anyways.” you say, the words being loud enough for haerin to hear.

‘it’s in the past anyways.’

haerin had to fight back tears in that moment, she knew you two were growing apart.

TAGS 🏷️ (OPEN) — @jayjj7 @saysirhc @sixflame438 @ajjilhan @amourjins @isither @sserajeans @greenniee @isabbellle @gayforalll @leeohknows @airice @yeetaberry127 @l0l44444 @inosfavgf @emphobics @edamboon @s3mz @newhairnewjeans @xen248 @nooneissheree @wintersgff @haechansbbg @gtfoiydlyj @masuowo @he------len @haerinsloverr

a/n— dear tumblr writers how to not get burnt out!! 💔💔

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 2 (episodes 13-16)

Episode 13 - The Night of the Thirsters

Proof Amalia and Joris are not close friends number 829342345: if she knew the alcohol he drinks and what he considers "a clean environment to live in" she'd get scared.

WoT twitter would kill Amalia.

I know it's more likely that both alcoholic and non-alcoholic bamboo milk exists, but the thought of everyone being a-ok with Yugo underage drinking makes me giggle for some reason. Ruel would fucking do that.

Are your villains 1. indestructible, 2. want to consume something that could theoretically fix them, 3. in the process, inflict a fate worse than death upon their victim, who 4. becomes one of them?

...Necromes were a missed opportunity. Shoulda called them Wakfu Thirsters instead.

Episode 14 - The Voice Thief

It's always sad to see the way the world has been devastated by Ogrest's Chaos.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...This says:

Her singing is so cute!

She is now fully bamboo milk-pilled. GOOD.

New Krosmoz music lore: We already know that vinyls and their players exist, as well as the fact that rock music exists (due to the fact that The Blues of a Hypermage (parody of the IRL song The Blues of a Buisinessman) exists).

Now we have the confirmation that metal bands are real.

Also, electric guitars are also real.

Mics are also real. (I am totally not noting all of this down because I want to write a "Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham go to karaoke" scene in one of my fics in the future, nuh-uh...)

Hummina hummina hummina bazooooooooing! eyes pop out AROOOOOOOOGA! jaw drops tongue rolls out WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF.

It's very rare to see, within the show, characters who differ from their usual class skin and hair colours, which is a shame. (I am 99% sure this is an iop due to his clothes and his hair pointing upwards)

Text behind Eva: rien ne sert de payer il faut en fuir / there is no point in paying, you have to run away

Text behind Amalia is too shielded to transcribe fully.

This is written in Brakmarian. It says:

This means that, metal music is stereotypically a Brakmarian form of music (big news: spoon found in kitchen)

I usually don't point this sort of stuff out but, man, this tavern is really well off. Not only is there a lot of food, there are also huge hot baths...

Also, once again, canalization and running water are real in this setting.

I choose to believe that this bubble thing is the Krosmoz equivalent of vaping because it's funny.

[blushing] Would!

Jpop is real in this setting, and someday, I will be able to prove to you, that Joris is a fan of it, using some proof besides "well ecaflips are kind of japanese-coded sometimes" and "it just makes sense."

Good rooms in taverns like these not only have hot baths but also fruit, candles, and drinks... [starts writing down "Joris, Kerubim and Atcham go to an expensive tavern and start talking about some convoluted topic, with vivid descriptions of delicious fruit-eating, how good the wine is, and how soft the bubbles in the bath are" in my fic self-indulgent scene ideas document. I can live my vacation fantasies vicariously through those three men]

Of course metal music from Brakmar is about the fact that the apocalypse caused inflation and that it's Good.

This says:

ourse

olle

m al

venu

Episode 15 - Wabbit Island

Hhh she is a very good artist.

[guy who is insane voice] This means that if I ever want to use the expression "canary in a coalmine" in a fic it'll be "tofu in a coalmine" instead.

The word Sayonara exists in Krosmoz which implies that some sort of fantasy Japanese is real. Big win.

Episode 16 - The Cursed Fountain

:(

While I usually talk a lot about character parallels between Yugo and Joris (these men who had to grow up far too fast will someday commit acts which no human being can be forgiven for in the name of goodness—-) there is a lot to be said about parallels betwen Eva and Joris.

They're both artistic, kind people who try to appear logic-driven (and sadly, they are both basically the wranglers/babysitters of their entire adventuring groups).

[seramilla]

Human au so when Sera and Emily move in for a time Carmilla puts them up in a guest bedroom immediately Emily ends up sleeping in Clara's room because this is only supposed to be till their apartment is livable again so may as well have fun and treat it like a sleepover. Meanwhile Sera is in the guest room at first though Carmilla tells her that if she wants she can spend the night with her eventually near the end she does join Carmilla.

Carmilla has more guest rooms than she will ever need. She had put Sera and Emily both up in separate rooms, because Sera had insisted she didn't want to impose. They would stick to their own part of the house, and that's all they needed -- a place to sleep, a roof over their heads, maybe some spare linens and towels. Sera had even insisted on paying for all her meals. No matter how much Carmilla had brushed off this type of rhetoric, Sera is still stubborn.

Emily in her childlike honesty had asked incessantly to sleep with Clara or Odette. Sera had told her no. She's a big girl, and can sleep in her own bed. That didn't stop the girl from making her way to her friends' rooms in the middle of the night, climbing into bed with Clara, and looking up sheepishly at Carmilla when the matriarch finds her there the next morning.

Sera scolds her, and makes her fall asleep in her own bed that evening. But again, Emily goes wandering to Clara's room, and after about four nights of this, Sera all but gives up. Emily is scared, she says, and feels more comfortable falling asleep next to her friend. Sera concedes that at least she's getting some sleep...her sister has been so afraid, but also so brave, during the ordeal of their apartment flooding. If sleeping in one of the other girls' room gives her comfort, she can live with that.

Carmilla teases that she and Sera should have a sleepover, as well. If the girls are enjoying each other's company, why can't they? Sera blushes, but doesn't think too much of it at first. She's used to Carmilla teasing her...kind of gets a little thrill out of it, actually. But sleeping in the same bed as her hostess...who she's pretty sure has a crush on her, and is trying to woo her way into Sera's arms...

It doesn't give her a bad feeling. That's not the problem. Sera finds she likes it...maybe a little too much. Carmilla has been so selfless and generous by inviting them into her home. Sera feels like she's taking advantage of her kindness sometimes. Carmilla continues to tease her about it, but Sera turns her down. Multiple times. Carmilla brushes it off, but Sera can tell she's disappointed.

She turns Carmilla down...until the last few nights of their visit. Sera had gotten the call the week prior that her apartment will be ready in a matter of days. She and Emily can go home. Get back to normal. Return to their normal life. Sera would be lying if she says she wasn't...disappointed.

Being in this huge house has shown her what it's like to have a family. To have a support network for herself and Emily. Emily will be sad -- the girls have been like sisters to her. Sera will, too. She will miss it all...miss this...whatever this is between her and Carmilla.

A few nights before they are scheduled to go home, Sera finds herself making her way to Carmilla's room, in the middle of the night. Her feet are like a stranger's feet. She can't control them. She doesn't know what they are doing. She's a silent observer in her own body. But soon she finds herself standing in front of Carmilla's door, with her hand hovering inches in front of the wood, about ready to knock.

She knocks. Once. Twice. Three times. She hears shuffling on the other side of the door, and it opens with a quiet creak. Carmilla is standing there, in her nightgown, with a small robe hanging off her shoulders. She's surprised to see Sera there, who is looking at her so sheepishly, Carmilla can practically see her blushing in the dark.

"Um," Sera starts, unable to find words at first. "I was...I...I couldn't sleep. Can I...sit up with you for a while?"

Carmilla doesn't answer at first. Just stares her up and down, like she thinks this might be a test, or like Sera will jump up and say "Psyche!" as soon as she agrees to let her in. But there is nothing but naked honesty on Sera's face, and her body language shows no indication that she's pulling Carmilla's leg. She looks...nervous.

Carmilla opens the door wider. Now Carmilla looks like she's feeling awkward, too; maybe she hadn't expected Sera to take her up on her offer. She probably hadn't.

"Of course," Carmilla finally says, moving to the side, so Sera can enter the room.

Sera's heart jumps in her chest. She nods, swallowing heavily, and enters. Carmilla closes the door behind her.

What has Sera gotten herself into now?

[upontherisers]

a/n: this was supposed to be all epistolary, no prose but then. but then.

Dear Mr. Rosenthal,

I had dinner with your mother last night. It was wonderful to catch up with her; I hadn’t seen her since the day we packed up your office and you left for Alabama. We ran into each other at Putnam Central last week (you missed a swinging show!) and she invited me for a meal. What a cook she is! Soup and cabbage and those little flaky pastries with nuts and spices for dessert (I hope I’m not making you jealous.) And of course she wouldn’t let me lift a finger to help, both out of host-liness and care that the food would be edible. Jeanette joined us for the meal but stepped out with some friends for the rest of the night, so it was just me and Rose (you don’t mind if I call her Rose, do you? She insists) in your lovely home.

You were the main topic of conversation, of course, but I found my knowledge of you fell short of what your mother hoped. She misses you terribly. I had the sense that she was looking for commiseration for the space you’ve left in our lives, but I was only your legal secretary and I work for another man now. (As much as I despise it. Please do come back to the firm when this is all over. Sidney isn’t half the lawyer you are and twice the hassle.)

I suppose you’re wondering why I’m writing. Your mother mentioned that besides Jeanette, you ain’t got a gal to write to ya and I don’t think that’s right. Every fella should have a gal to write to that’s not their mother or their sister, whether it’s a friend or a cousin or their dame. It’s hard to say certain things to family or you might have a story that they’d find appalling and anyone else would think is a hoot. I’d also like to keep visiting your mother for dinner and have something of substance to say (but all your secrets are safe with me, I promise). Jeannette’s gone during the day and I know how lonely a quiet house can get.

I hope Texas is treating you well. Keep safe and keep warm! I just read the most shocking piece in the Times about how cold it gets in the air. I’ve sent a scarf along just in case. Write when you can (if not me then your mother, please.) 

Yours,

Isadora C. Montgomery

Burnham whistles as Rosie pulls a swath of textured pale cream fabric from the package. Lacy’s hand reaches out to trace over the cloth lovingly, her dressmaker’s daughter heart moving her body before her head could catch up. He doesn’t mind. 

“Who’s that from?” Elton asks.

“My secretary,” Rosie replies as he scans over the long scarf and brings it to his nose. There it is, the faint citrusy spice that comes to linger on all of Isadora’s things. “She’s worried about the cold.”

Lacy snorts.

“Tell her it’s hot,” says Burnham.

“Tell her about the eggs,” adds Elton.

Rosie waves them off, tosses the scarf on the hook next to his hat above his bed, and picks up the letter again as he sits back down. It’s easy to get lost in the inky slashes and swells of Isadora’s handwriting, the practiced rows and roving, squat words as unique as their writer. She brings him back home in an instant with the sounds of Putnam Central on a Saturday night, horns blowing, bass rumbling around the room, and the keys lighting up his spine like his were the bones being played. It might be her up there, nimble fingers dazzling across the ivory and black or his mother and her clarinet, or Nettie and her double bass. All three of their voices eventually combine as they put their spin on the Andrews Sisters or Ella, and he’s the happiest man in the room to have a night of good music from good people.

He’ll have to ask who played, if Fat Bertie bellowed over his saxophone and demanded that his Dora get up and play that piana’, or if they had an out-of-towner. Were they any good? Any singers? Anyone who could remind him that there’s a world outside of Texas, one that’s free from the heat and the dust and the sour-tasting food. He’s pulled back into the letter, to the little flaky pastries with nuts and spices and despite the humid press of air in the barracks, his mouth waters for the warm, sweet dough that still steams when you break it apart. Rugelach, he thinks. They’re called rugelach, Dora.

She’ll know that before long if she keeps having dinner with his mother. She’ll know rugelach and blintzes, matzo ball soup and the good bagels from Schuman’s on Avenue T and Ocean. It makes him smile to think of her in his neck of the woods, her face soaking up the sun of southern Brooklyn’s wide streets not yet shaded by the tall buildings that are stacking up all around the rest of the borough, like in her Crown Heights. He wonders what it looks like now, if the drive to her apartment is more crowded, if she still chuckles at every errant ball that rolls into the street and waves at every older brother dragging their kid sister out of the way. 

Then he’ll watch her climb the stairs and smile over her shoulder at him as she unlocks her door, and then she’s inside and he wishes she would’ve lingered on the steps a moment longer.

I know how lonely a quiet house can get. He wishes he could go back home, even for just a day, and take Dora to a show on Broadway or pick up Delilah and Daniel for a day with their sister at Brighton Beach. She’ll spend all her time in her apartment when she’s not at work, waiting and hoping, unless someone drags her out, someone like Ma.

While he hadn’t considered it before, it’s important to him now, this bond between Ma and Dora. He’s glad they have time for it, he’s sad to miss the raucous conversation that always arises from two jazz musicians in the same room. Hopefully they didn’t spend too long on him; there’s too much he wants them to share—music, movies, their love of fashion—for Ma to keep the conversation on him. The vibrant life that thrums through the both of them will spark, surely, and he can finally put aside some of his guilt.

“Are you gonna do it?” Lacy asks as he stows the letter away in his foot locker. His confusion must be obvious because she smiles softly. “Are you gonna write her? It’s such a beautiful gift. You really oughta.”

Her blue eyes turn to the fabric hanging on the wall and the way it catches the light streaming in from the window, gold and shimmering, reminds him of the Flatbush apartment, the flutter of the curtains in their small kitchen on an evening when they’re all home.

He’s not like other cadets; there are no weekly care packages or pages and pages of letters coming in daily. His mother and sister write when they can and send what they can, but something like this, a genuine piece of home, is a rare find. He’s grateful and as soon as he can wear it without sweating to death, it’ll be airborne and he can take a piece of the ground to the sky with him, and from Dora of all people.

There’s no way he’ll wear it as well as she does, in elegant loops piled around her neck to protect from the snow or draped over her head and tossed over her shoulder as she gets in the car on their way to lunch in Midtown, but he’ll try. He’ll try for her and her insistence on maintaining his ‘lawyerly appearance,’ never afraid to fix his hair or reknot his tie with a tsk when he’s not up to standard.

The memory makes him laugh.

He thought of her often since he left New York. Going from having one friend at work to none left him missing the former greatly, and he’d started a letter to her in Florida but never got around to finishing it. He’s scared, maybe, not of the propriety or the scandal any letter from someone who doesn’t share your last name causes in an Army barrack, but of what she’d think. It might be for the best that he didn’t write—he’s out of her hair for the time being, and she’s busy enough with the firm without him obligating her into correspondence. But as he thinks of her words, every fella should have a gal to write to, I know how quiet a lonely house can get, he’s resolved to do them both a service and write. It won’t be any too prosaic as he doesn’t have much to talk about now, but it’s a place to start for when he might really need a friend in the future. 

Elton barks a laugh. “Of course he’s gonna write her. Not writing is how you get a Dear John letter.”

Burnham smacks his co-pilot in the chest. “It ain’t like that! She’s his secretary.”

And suddenly, three pairs of eyes are staring at him expectantly.

“I–I will write her,” he starts, but doesn’t let Elton gloat yet. “She’s a friend, a good friend, not just my secretary.”

That seems to appease the men as they get up and procure baseball gloves. Burnham tosses him a ball. “You pitching?”

Rosie shakes his head and tosses it back. “Not today, boys.”

“Yeah,” says Elton like it’s obvious, “he’s caught up on a girl.”

Burnham cackles and they chase each other outside, shoving through the group of pilots who just came in from the last practice flights of the afternoon. 

The afternoon break before chow is not to be taken for granted so while the lowering sun of early evening lulls the brashest of personalities to some sort of peace, he starts to write after pulling out some stationery, paper braced on a book Jeannie had sent when he was still in Alabama.

Lacy speaks up after a while. “It means somethin’ when a gal gives you a scarf, y’know, ‘specially when there ain’t enough scarves to go around.”

That gives him pause and he pictures Dora coming in from the cold with a red nose and hunched shoulders. He’s stuck for a moment before Lacy laughs aloud. “Don’t send it back. Just let her know you’re thankful.”

She sits back in her bed and returns to her needlepoint, which her mother had just sent her, and Rosie blinks at her for a few moments. He hadn’t known what to make of her when they got the order to integrate officer barracks. She’s a quiet soul but surprisingly humorous, and steady, always right as rain. Anyone would be lucky to have her in the seat next to them—hell, he’d volunteer if they’d let girls and guys fly together—and he much prefers her company over the boisterous, posturing pilots that fill in the rest of the beds around them. Betty Lacy is good people. Dora would like her, he thinks.

Dear Ms. Montgomery,

I just received your letter and your gift. Texas winters are too hot for scarves, but I’ll put it to good use eventually. I’m sure you’re getting snow in New York and I’m green with envy. I’d do anything for a nice blizzard right about now. We fried eggs on our instrument panels last week (and sometimes we fly in our skivvies. Don’t tell Ma.) There’s no sea air here, not even in the sky, so the heat just sits on you like a wet blanket. Forgive me if I sweat through this letter.

I am jealous, not only of your delicious dinner with my mother (the food isn’t as dire as Alabama, but it’s still bad (again, don’t tell Ma, she’ll have a fit)) but a swinging night at Putnam Central. That’ll be my first stop when they let me out of here. Who played? I hope you got up there and if you didn’t, I got a request for next time. God Bless The Child. They played it in the PX the other day, a brief reprieve from the twangy warbles they like down here, and Billie doesn’t do it quite like you. It shouldn’t surprise you that I’ve been banned from humming in the barracks—all my love of music and I can’t make a note of it. No one in my bunk has a decent voice, so we’re a musicless bunch until we can get away.

Still, it’s a good time. I find myself the fourth in a small group of similarly-minded pilots. John Burnham is from Connecticut, Claybourne Elton is from California, and Betty Lacy is a schoolteacher from Georgia. We bonded over our restlessness and have all passed certification on the B-17, so we should be assigned to crews soon. There’s practice and lots of card games in the meantime.

I hope you're well and warm. I’ll send the scarf back if you need it. There’s no reason to go without for my sake; the Army has taken enough of your silk, coffee, and gas already. And don’t let Sid run you ragged, either—he may have the experience but you’re the senior member of the firm. Go to Mr. Freidin if he keeps bothering you and I’m sure he’ll set him straight. 

They just called us for chow. It’ll be sandwiches or spaghetti—mealy, bitter noodles with tomato paste as sauce. I’ll pass and think of lunches at Rosetti’s fondly. 

Be safe and write back.

Yours,

Robert Rosenthal

“P.S. God Bless The Child, if not for me then for my mother. Well,” Gertie Simmons-Montgomery says as she sets her granddaughter’s letter down, “you gotta play it.”

Isadora sighs. “I don’t know when I’ll be back there. Mr. Wacker’s got a big case coming up and he’s working me until I’m the last one in the office. I can barely keep my eyes open on the bus.”

“Go to this Mr. Weeden—”

“Freiden.”

“Go to Mr. Freidin. Robert seems confident that—”

“Robert is a brilliant litigator who keeps clients coming back. I’m a secretary,” she says and leans down to kiss her grandmother on the forehead before moving onto her brother and sister and taking her seat at the dinner table.

“Are you gonna write back?” Daniel asks.

“Of course she is,” Delilah snaps, “Mr. Rosenthal is very handsome.”

“Mr. Rosenthal is my friend,” Isadora corrects with a warning eye to the teenager, “and my boss.”

Delilah scoffs. “Not right now, he ain’t.”

“Alright,” Delrose Montgomery claps his hands as he enters from the kitchen and moves to the head of the table, “enough of this letter talk. I have my grandchildren all together for the first time in a month. I’d like to revel in family.”

Isadora smiles and Delilah kicks her twin under the table and gets chastised by their grandma, but it’s warm and cozy despite the snow outside. As they take each other’s hands and bow their heads to pray over dinner, Dora feels a playful twinge of guilt as she begins to compose her next letter in her head.

Dear Mr. Rosenthal,

I wouldn’t have sent the scarf if I wanted you to send it back. And yes, I’ll play Billie Holliday for you...

[thefrogdalorian]

Hello! 

You may (or may not... I don't like to presume) have noticed my little break from posting. I just wanted to share something in case anyone was worried about me and assure you there is no need to be :) 

There isn't really one reason for why I've been on hiatus, but I guess a collection of things. 

I was really poorly with covid but thankfully I'm feeling a lot better now! But being so sick and stuck in I guess made me reevaluate certain things. 

Since recovering I got to see a lot of people I really adore with my whole heart, as well as being lucky enough to experience so many things I love with them.

And it made me realise what truly makes me happy in life. I suppose it really put things into perspective for me. I'm thinking more and more that tumblr (and being online generally) is something which unfortunately does not spark joy any longer. 

To be honest, (as I'm sure many people who were given far too much unsupervised access to the internet at a young age also do), I have a complicated relationship with social media. It doesn't make me feel good most of the time. I don't know how to handle some of the things I read and some of the things people have said to me. And just like I do irl, if the vibes feel off, I usually retreat into my shell to regroup. 

While I have made so many friends over the years of being chronically online and spoken to plenty of great people, I can feel myself getting drained again. And I really haven't missed it during the time I've been away.

I've filled my time with a lot of reading (I read Pride and Prejudice THREE times... doing amazingly), some writing and lots of long walks in nature. It's been really good for me!

As a result, right now, I just don't feel like continuing to post on this blog.

This decision wasn't caused by anyone or anything in particular. But when I've made my mind up about something, it's pretty impossible to change it. I've been mulling it over for a few days and my heart is telling me to go.

Anyway, I'm going to continue working on my WIPs and most likely continue posting them to AO3. It's by far the least social media-ish platform out there, and I really like posting on it. 

I need to take a step back to remember why I started writing, which was really as a way to get emotions out and to scream into the void a little. I don't enjoy sharing my work on tumblr, I kind of felt like I had to rather than genuinely wanting to. 

Truthfully, I just want to create and consume others' work in peace. I don't want to feel like I need to market my writing or whatever or compare myself to others. As much as I try not to, I think it's only human nature. 

So, I guess I'm really making this post to say I'll be going on a hiatus from tumblr. But I don't intend to stop writing or posting to AO3 and I hope to see you over there! 

I have no idea how long I'll be away for. Who knows... when winter comes around and my seasonal depression returns, or perhaps there is a major Mando update, maybe I'll return! 

For now, all there's left to say is how much of a pleasure it was posting about Mando and talking with you lot all these months. 

If anyone (mutual or otherwise) would like to keep in touch, feel free to message me for my discord! I'd be happy to continue chatting to you on there.

For me, in the headspace I'm currently in, one on one conversation is far less intimidating than being perceived by lots of people lol. 

I'll likely drop in at some point soon-ish and check for any of those messages, but until then, it's not a goodbye, but a see you later! 

Please care of yourselves and be kind to others :) 

Love,

Spud 🐸🩷

[winn-wynn]

If I was percy and the first 4 years of Hogwarts was normal (as normal as Hogwarts can be) and then in my last 3 years (which are deemed the hardest because of OWLS and NEWTS) and I am headboy and Prefect, also trying to get all 12 NEWTS and OWLS and went through everything in the first three books but only knowing the bare minimum (since it’s Dumbledore, nothing really) I’d become an alcoholic. Those 3 years are insane. How is he functioning? (Burnt out gifted symptom for sure.)

Bill and Charlie got lucky for graduating already.

Professor quirrell has Voldemort attached to his head, a troll escaped, ron is in trouble constantly with his new friends, whatever the fuck Fred and George are doing. And that’s just fifth year as a prefect. His youngest brother also helped and went to defeat their DADA professor (idk if they know specific details.) But your prefect and you have to keep an eye out on your House and other students.

6th year he’s also a prefect and a creature is on the lose petrifying muggleborns, his girlfriend got petrified (I’d be scared) Ginny isn’t talking to him and acting skittish (he tried to ask his mom and ask madam pomfrey for a potion to help yet she refuses and isn’t talking to mom) whatever Ron is doing with Harry and Hermione (probably dangerous? and the twins are once again pranking and doing who knows what. Still in charge of taking care of students. Probably just wanted to focus on his NEWTS. PROBABLY HAD TO SELF TEACH HIMSELF DADA AND TUTOR OTHER STUDENTS BECAUSE LOCKHART IS INCOMPETENT!

7th year headboy. Final year. Can’t be too bad. Oops a murderer is on the loose and then proceeds to attack Ron. Dementors are everywhere in the castle. Once again is siblings are doing who knows what at this point (once again definitely dangerous.) remus is a fantastic teacher but snape just outs him as a werewolf so he’s gone. also wanting to focus on his exams as a 7th year.

I bet he didn’t even get the full picture of what was happening. Dumbledore didn’t tell them anything I bet.

Those last three years are the hardest and I’d become an alcoholic or have like multiple breakdowns at that point.

Percy Weasley and any other prefect and headboy and head girl are strong during those years. Honestly being an outsider would have been hard as fuck like what is even happening at this point I thought this was a school.

I’m pretty sure I’m missing some details but still.

[aloneatpeace]

Fall Of Empire

SECRETS OF THE NIGHT '8'

Summary :𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓯𝓾𝓷𝓷𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 . 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷 . 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝔂 𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼..

→✒️:★: ͜͡✿͜͡ →.- this is pure fan fiction it's not real. I mean no disrespect to any of the members.The stroy is fictional it's doesn't have anything to do with the real life members of bts.

The preparation for the journey to the palace is started by the butlers and attendents of the three princes, they will travel in the morning when the first sunlight hits the ground. The horse are feed and royal cravens are polished and stainless, everything is ready to embark on the journey.

the most important people who should be sleeping on their large soft bed with silk blankets and pillows to grand them the most comfortable sleep sits around the table with only few lamps lit to illuminate the chamber they are in.

one prince voice echoes through the room softly, his low voice only heard by his brothers who sits listening to the one that's speaking, they nod and exchange their words occasionally frowns and scrowls and smirks adorned their face.

"Well, we are future of our kingdown, let's see who wins the war."

Being a maid is was not hard , there are long hallways that need to be mopped , mountain of dishes and utinelss that need to washed without damaging a single one, the fine fabric that need to be washed and fragranced without letting a small detail of stone or printed fabric to be damaged, marble floor that needed to shine dusting the sculptures and paintings that the royal family gifted by the other kingdoms and noble family was it all tiresome well you are in no Position to complain when they genuirously given you a place in the place, food and warm bed to sleep and a new friend that helped you throughout the daily task.

Emma is kind and timid just like you she doesn't prey into your life not even when the girls from your town send amusing condescending glance when they catch the glimpse of you walking through the hallway. emma did not indulge in the matter nor did she change the way she approached you, she still regarded you as companion as the day went by.

she sat next you when it was time for to eat in the afternoon, sat with you while waiting for the next chore to done. you realised that she is kind and genuine but she also held undeniable sadness in her eyes, her eyes miss the shine when you come to think of most of the servent does seems to carry some sadness and pain in their eyes, the smile that she give never felt wholesome it was tainted with sorrow that you didn't understand. she tried to hide it but it always showed it's clear that she does not want to share her pain and suffering that caused her eyes to be so dull. it's is never a good thing to push people to share their pain and considering that you and her only known for few hours pursuing her to share her agony does not seem ideal so you choose to silently sit beside letting her know that you're here.

it was closer to midnight when the two you finished the chores having your meal of the night, the buzzling kitchen is silent with few chief chopping up meat and vegetables for the next morning. the two you sits on the table eating what you where given, the vegetable broth has gone cold and you're sure that Emma's broth would be colder if she doesn't start her eating soon.

you wonder if hoseok had eaten his meal.

she gazed out the window, looking at the full moon that hang in the night sky her shoulders slumped hands fold in her lap her food long forgotten she seemed lost, her eyes held unknown pain they were haunted by something that you don't know, the color of her skin remained of dead flower petals waiting for a strong wind to swept away. the world around her doesn't seem to interest her anymore you doubt it didn't in the past, maybe you don't know, tears fall down her cheeks they shine in moonlight, you don't know the reason why it is. the warmth of her tears seems to bring her back to her reality as she quickly wipe away hands clenching the spoon yet not eating you don't know the reasons at all, you reach out and wrap your hands around her empty one that lay limply in the table squeezing it gently.

Emma doesn't look up, she does not want you see her face though she knew you already witnessed her tears falling down but she is thankful that you didn't push her to confide in you. she squeezed back your hand an gestures that she hope it convey the message that she appreciates your kindness and she finally bring her spoonful of broth to her mouth.

the two of you walk together to maid quater after finishing up the meal, there is no exchange of words as the two of your reach the room and starts to getting ready for sleep, the moonlight shine down to the room through the window illuminating just enough that you both move around without need to lit the lamp.

"Sleepwell Emma" you offer her smile before getting under the cover.

you glance at the moon and wonder if hoseok is sleeping well in his own warm bed.

Emma sit on her bed her gaze now shifting from the moon to your frame, sleeping under the sheets. a downcast look on her face because she is you in evey sense and she worried for what might happen to you though the two of you just meet she doesn't want anything happens to you does not want you or anyone go through what she and her lost friend gone through. her sadness is not for what had happened but rather but about be happen.

hoseok sigh loudly as he fall in bed his limbs aches from the training and sparing he did with others, he can feel his muscles twitching now and then something in his body is accheing one after another his plate is empty the bone of meat is only thing that left beside him.

"you hold up well for someone who has never been agile" yoongi comments watching the hoseok his hair still damp.

jimin and jungkook sits on their bed after the training they all had gone shower, hoseok had begged them to swim in the ocean though the three knight were reluctant at first they agreed.

"yeah, i didn't know you had that much stamina in you" jungkook cheers before bitting down the meat with a hum.

"Well there is lot a thing that you have yet discover about me kid" he rebut

"So, are you adjceting here well?" jimin asks

hoseok thinks for a minute as he prop himself up on his elbow looking at the three knight "Well, I cannot complain can i ?"

"No you cannot" yoongi answers making hoseok scoff at that, jungkook and jimin laugh silently at hoseok giving yoongi a dirty look.

hoseok stands up and glance through the window and gather his tray of his plates and jimin's and yoongi without saying anything.

hoseok even take jungkook meat that he's bitting into and out in the plate dismissing the youngest knight's displeased groan muffled by his mouthful.

yoongi sigh at male's action alredy knowing where it is leading to.

"There is no need for they that. someone will come and collect it all. "

hoseok shrugs " i don't mind, I can do it just show me the way to kitchen." he swat at jungkook hands that sneakily trying to reach for the meat pouting when his hands get slapped by the elder man. jimin find this whole ordeal funny as he laughs away.

"They might be still working hoseok" yoongi said leaning back in his chair.

hoseok gasp "but when does she sleeps then.?"

"maybe be after midnight or something."

"But don't they have wake up early as well?" hoseok frown is evident on his face looking more glum when jimin and yoongi nod at the his words.

just then a knock on their door takes away their attention a maid comes in her head hang low as she walks in after yoongi nod in approval walking towards hoseok to take the plates hoseok mask his dispointment letting the maid take the plates away from him.

hoseok stagger towards his bed lazyly crawling on before laying down.

"she is maid hoseok, they expected do all work, they are brought to work here." yoongi says looking at hoseok.

"I know tha, but that does not mean they should be worked to death. " hoseok grumble not liking that while he had warm food and warm bed to sleep while you would be scrubbing the floor or washing giant pots and plates.

hoseok prop himself up on elbows suddenly "I am curious why the people of kingdown seems so dull compared to our village. why is that? "

the three knights share a glance with eachother " the royal family only has the privilege to wear colour here, your townspeople was blissful unaware of it since you people were deep in the woods and never tried to enter the kings region. " yoongi answers.

"sounds like an pure absurdity to me* hoseok ponder without a fear.

jimin give him mischievous smile " be careful what you say, hoseok that might just get you killed."

jungkook nod with a serious look on his face "do not go around expressing yourself, with us it's one thing but with other it might not end well. "

hoseok shrugs waving of their concerns " Do you believe the sole purpose I came here for to be a knight."

yoongi " No we do not, jungkook might not know but me and jimin do" jungkook frown at yoongi's words while jimin smile at his sulking pout. "But there is no harm in being respectful to royal family." he adds.

hoseok eyes fixed on yoongi as he observe him with furrowed brow " Why does it feels like you are hinting something else." jimin and jungkook face fall an unreadable look looms over their face.

make no mistake while hoseok might appear like gentle kind men who sees good in everyone and everything, welcoming everyone with warm smile he knows the world is not happy place and that it is far from perfect, he mastered the art to reading people like an open book.

He knows that people are far from the perfection they likes to portray themselves to be, he saw it himself growing up. how people who appeared to be kind and welcoming turns cold and judgmental with their dirty looks and condescending words. how their quick to cast one to be unworthy of their kindness and basic human decorum because one does not meet their expectations and standard forgetting that human are different in every aspect of their life.

He seen how the towns people treated you and your father as forgine species, whispering their fabricated falsehood about the two of you just because of your father refused to live by their ordinance.

the moment he stepped inside the kingdom territory he felt unsettling shiver all over his body, while his town and his people stands as orginaisim that imperfect he felt like he was walking among corpse, the tower of the kingdown felt like gates of hell and people resembled the look of tortured and suffered souls.

His suspicion is only increased when he saw few maid who walks past knight's quater and sparing arena who looked like scared swans cautiously moving around as if they would get strik by an arrow unexpectedly, hurried to get their chores done and run away to their safe heaven.

Hoseok lay back looking at ceiling "I do respect the royal family and I will do my duty as knight with honour.. "

"I sense a nonetheless " hoseok glance at yoongi and held his gaze, yoongi's hair strands doesn't hide his burning orbs but hoseok does not seems to falter.

"My loyality lies with her, it always has been and it will be" hoseok said without hesitation or fear.

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@uniquetravelerone @bangtan1325

[cgerice]

Been four years, time for this again.

With the trajectory these redraws are going, Merlin and Gwaine are going to end up just,,, making out. Full on sloppy style right in front of Arthur.

And honestly? Good for them they deserve it lmao