#i need to work on free associating from one idea to the next

[agamemnon-sux]

Read My Poem Boy

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [5]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 4 | Fic Masterlist | Part 6

"She's severely malnourished, and the injuries on her body tell us that she's undergone quite the abuse, seemingly for years. But I assume you already deduced that much, yes?" Yunho stated as he turned to your husband.

Seonghwa nodded grimly, "Yes, unfortunately. Is there anything you can do to help with all the marks?"

"Given the lack of proper treatment for so long, most of her wounds have only worsened, resulting in permanent scars from various infections. I'll do my best to treat as much as I can, but please understand that I won't be able to eliminate most of these scars." The physician explained, not wanting to give the general any false hope of restoring your skin back to its original form.

Thankfully, Seonghwa wasn't naturally inclined to optimism, and he didn't care to entertain the idea of a miracle. He sighed, "I understand, Yunho. It doesn't matter to me if the scars remain, just... make all the pain go away for her. That's all that matters."

Though possibly surprised, Yunho didn't reveal it in his expression. That might have been the sweetest sentiment he had ever heard from the general. He nodded, "Very well. I'll need a few tools and herbs to prepare her tonic and ointment. Should I stay in the usual quarters until my work is complete?"

Eager to see her mistress recover quickly, the head maid was ready for action. She stood up as soon as her master addressed her, "Eunsook, you know what to do. Organise a team of servants to assist Physician Jung with everything he requires and prepare his usual accommodation."

Without having to be told twice, she swiftly moved to leave Seonghwa's room, "Yes, master! Please come with me, Physician Jung." The general watched as everyone exited his private quarters, leaving him alone with you.

Bringing a chair beside the bed, he seated himself next to you and mustered the courage to hold your hand. Gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, he felt a pang in his heart, realising that it was far from how the hand of someone your age should be – smooth and flawless. Instead, it bore the marks of what he could only imagine as endless pain.

Reflecting on the unfounded accusations he had hurled at you after your sincere expression of gratitude during dinner, he wished he could turn back time and retract his words, if only it were possible. As if your life hadn't already been hell, he had only made it worse for you.

Suddenly, the notion of you being genuinely happy with The Cold Palace didn't seem so far-fetched. After all, who could fathom the inhumane living conditions you had endured for all those years? However, this realisation brought him no comfort; the fact that your life back in the Jang estate was so bad that you had to express gratitude for being given such a place was heartbreaking.

Seonghwa was jolted from his thoughts when he sensed your weak hand squeezing his. Looking up, he noticed your anguished expression as you cried in your sleep, your voice brokenly uttering, "I'm sorry..."

He felt his heart clench at the sight, prompting him to move and sit closer to you on the bed. Lifting his free hand, he gently wiped away the tears streaming from the corners of your eyes down your cheeks, "Hey, it's alright... You're safe now." He whispered, returning the soft squeeze to your hand.

As if aware of his presence, your eyes snapped open in alarm, and a whimper of fear escaped you as you saw him. For the first time in a long while, the general found no satisfaction in the fear reflected in someone's eyes. You gasped upon realising that the lifeline you were clinging to was him, noticing your hand in his.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried harder when you realised your marks were still fully on display. Pulling your hand away from his, you grasped the sheets around you and clutched them close.

Despite the disappointment he felt at the absence of your hand, he didn't have time to dwell on it with your little panic attack. To ground you, he cupped your face with his hands, "Look at me," and you complied, your trembling eyes meeting his gaze, "Stop apologising and tell me what it is that you're sorry for."

"I-I'm sorry for all this," You gestured miserably to your own body, "I'm hideous. I'm tainted. I'm n-not good enough to be your wife, a-and I never will be. I-I don't deserve happiness... I was foolish to think I could find it h-here... with you."

Shaking his head, he caressed your hollow cheekbones, staring firmly into your eyes, "No, you listen to me. Never think that again. I forbid you from believing you're hideous or tainted or anything ridiculous like that. Whoever dares say you're not good enough to be my wife can go to hell because you're the only one I want. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I will give you just that. You're not foolish to think that. I'll prove it to you."

Leaving you speechless, Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you before you could muster a response, pulling you close. The sudden warmth felt foreign but good, and you nestled your face into his broad shoulder, allowing yourself to relish the moment.

Am I dreaming? Feels too good to be true.

Marvelling at the luxurious interior of this beautiful room, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a product of your imagination. How could any of this be real?

The last memory you had was the general storming angrily into your room and ripping your hanbok open. After seeing you in your truest form, how could he have ended up acting this way towards you? It didn't make sense; he should have been disgusted and hostile. Instead, here he was, seemingly accepting you.

Exhausted from a lifetime of pain, you lacked the energy to question the reality of your situation. Even if it were just a dream, you decided to embrace it and savour the experience. On the other hand, if this was reality, you knew you had the rest of your life to understand his change of heart.

All that really mattered now was that the pain and the suffering stopped. If Seonghwa truly accepts you as his wife, the reason behind it doesn't seem important. You would simply be grateful for his kindness, or perhaps sympathy—whatever it was, you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

So long as there's no more pain.

With that decision made, you set aside the lingering questions in your mind and focused on how comforting it felt to be held in a warm embrace like this. A contented sigh escaped you as you whispered against him, "Thank you, my lord."

He responded by tightening his hold around your frame, gently cradling the back of your head with a hand, "No, don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything to deserve that from you. I've been horrible, the absolute worst. And for that, I'd like to apologise. I'm sorry, my dear. I promise you, I'll make up for it."

When you attempted to voice your protest, he halted you with a knowing shake of his head, "I know I may seem like an angel in comparison to the people who have... done all those horrendous things to you, but I won't lie and say that I'm proud of myself for the way I acted. You're important too, okay? You're the general's wife now, and I want you to remember that. I won't let anyone disrespect you again."

With a grateful nod, tears of relief welled up in your eyes. This transformed version of Seonghwa before you was a stark departure from the one you initially encountered. You didn't think he was capable of being so soft and caring, but you had no complaints; you could certainly get used to this.

"Oh, mistress! You're finally awake!" Eunsook exclaimed, standing at the room entrance with the physician in tow. This caused you and your husband to break eye contact. The general cleared his throat and averted his gaze, a faint blush tinting his cheeks when he realised the two had witnessed your shared intimate moment.

Yunho suppressed his smile and respectfully bowed at you, "Good day, Lady Park. I'm Physician Jung; it's nice to properly meet you." Blinking, you struggled to come up with a response, gaping at his handsome face.

While the elderly woman giggled at your loss of words, Seonghwa was less than amused at your reaction to the doctor's appearance. He scoffed lightly, finding it ridiculous that you were here gazing at another man after he had just poured his heart out to you.

How dare you be unfaithful this soon?

Upon catching the enticing scent of food, your eyes swiftly moved away from Yunho's face. Your face lit up as you finally noticed the bowl of piping hot congee in Eunsook's hands.

"Oh dear, you must be famished. With Physician Jung's help, we concocted this healthy meal for you. I know it's not very appetising, with all the medicinal herbs in it, but you must get better before indulging in tastier foods, alright?" She smiled encouragingly at you.

You shook your head as she approached with the bowl, "Not appetising? It already smells and looks better than anything I've ever had. Thank you for the food." You murmured, eagerly waiting as she fed you.

Unbeknownst to you, your innocent response had affected Seonghwa more than you realised, and it also surprised the physician. While Yunho had heard a bit about your situation from the head maid, he wasn't fully aware of the extent of it, and hearing it directly from you was truly heart-wrenching. That definitely explained the severe malnourishment.

The congee was gone within moments and Eunsook couldn't help but coo, "Well done, mistress." You bit your lip shyly, feeling embarrassed for devouring it in such an unladylike manner, but nothing mattered the moment the food touched your lips.

As if on cue, a group of servants arrived with a fresh set of clothes and bath supplies originally intended for you earlier in the morning. Turning toward the two men, the head maid bowed and gestured toward the door, "Master, Physician Jung, if you wouldn't mind stepping out. We shall bathe and change the mistress."

Yunho nodded, "Certainly, I'll be getting back to work then," and immediately excused himself, reassured to know you had finished your first sitting of medicine.

The general stood up from his spot, "Alright, Eunsook. I'll leave her to you for now. Take care of her for me." He said, moving to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. The action caused your eyes to widen, and all the servants internally squealed, shocked to see their master being so affectionate for the first time.

Your heart swelled as you watched him leave, his back suddenly seeming so reliable. It was hard to believe that he was your husband, yours. How lucky were you to be wedded to Park Seonghwa?

"Come, mistress. Let's get you cleaned up."

You observed with intrigue as the servants rushed around to prepare a bath for you, an experience you had never had before. However, as they began to assist in stripping off your clothes, you realised you had forgotten all about the marks on your skin earlier. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you pushed the hands of the servants away and shook your head.

Reassuring you, they withdrew their hands with warm smiles, "It's okay, mistress. Please know we are all on your side; nobody here will disrespect or look down on you. You are now the official wife of General Park, and we will work our hardest to serve you."

The head maid nodded in agreement behind them, their sincerity deeply touching your heart, "Thank you for your kindness." You whispered, finally allowing them to help you out of your hanbok. They handled you with gentleness, and it took you some time to get used to it—finally not being manhandled like you always had been.

After they finished scrubbing you clean, the other maids momentarily left you alone to enjoy the bath, touched by your endearing demeanour—constantly expressing gratitude for every little thing. To them, it felt almost like caring for a child. Exchanging excited glances, none of them could hide their pleasure in having such a sweet mistress.

With your presence, perhaps the general's anger could finally subside, and the estate could experience some peaceful days. If only you knew the hope you had brought with your arrival.

Eunsook lingered in the background, cleaning and tidying up, while you played with the rose petals floating around the bath water. You couldn't recall the last time your life had been so relaxing, so peaceful. Turning to the elderly woman working nearby, you gathered the courage to ask, "This... this isn't a dream, is it?"

Setting down her supplies, she approached you with a motherly smile on her face, "I assure you, mistress, it is not. This is all very real. Perhaps the master's sudden shift in behaviour can be confusing."

She gently held onto your hand, "Trust me, he is actually not such a bad person at all. There's a good reason why all the servants here have been with him for a long time. Though he believes it is simply because of the good pay, it isn't. He just... has a hard time trying to express his feelings. Let's just say master did not exactly grow up living an easy life. He struggles to show his love because he has not been given nearly enough of it while growing up."

That sounds a little like me too.

Giving your hand a soft squeeze, she added, "And now, with you here, it seems we can all hope that things will change for the better, for master and for you, mistress."

"M-me? Better because of... me?" You whispered, returning the squeeze, and she nodded, "Yes, mistress. All because of you. You are our light and our hope. Thank you for coming to us. You're so important to everyone here, you know that? Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

You didn't realise you were crying until you felt a gentle touch as the elderly woman wiped away the tears rolling down your cheeks, assuring you, "No matter what happens, I promise you won't be alone anymore from now on."

Standing in the centre of the room later on, it almost felt like a dream come true as the servants attentively assisted you in getting dressed. For once, you felt genuinely cared for and respected, a stark contrast to your previous experiences at home, where most servants treated you as less than human.

Turning to face the mirror, a gasp escaped you as you gazed at your reflection, "You look beautiful, mistress. Master is going to love it." A servant exclaimed, admiring your natural beauty. Your eyes widened as you took in the pleasant appearance before you, surprised that despite the visibility of your scars, you could look appealing. It appeared that with proper care, hair, and clothing, you could indeed appear somewhat pretty.

I guess all hope is not lost.

"We'll be taking our leave now, mistress." The rest of the maids bowed in a line before you as they finished up. Panic crossed their faces when they saw you about to return their bows, and Eunsook stopped you in time, saying, "Oh dear, mistress! We'll have to work on that. Please remember you do not have to bow to any of the servants here, or anywhere, for the matter."

You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'll remember that next time."

She chuckled and shook her head, "That too, you do not need to apologise to us. We are here to serve you." The maids nodded to signal that the elderly woman was right, smiling encouragingly at you before bowing one last time and leaving to return to their other tasks.

"Now, there's still a bit more time before dinner. What would you like to do until then, mistress?" The head maid asked.

You blinked, realising you didn't know how to answer. You never had the luxury to do as you pleased; all your supposed spare time was spent rotting in your prison cell of a room. What did your stepsisters usually do? Right, make your life hell. That's what.

What do young ladies around your age do?

Suddenly remembering Eunsook's earlier words about having to work on what you should and shouldn't do, you perked up, "I... I wish to learn. I want to be a proper lady, to be a proper wife for the general."

You stared, puzzled, as the elderly woman tried to hide her cheeky grin, "Well, the master's study is full of all sorts of knowledgeable books. Maybe you can find something in there. Would you like to go there now, mistress?"

Finding nothing wrong with the suggestion, you agreed. The next thing you knew, you were left standing alone by the entrance to the study she had been talking about. She had explained that she needed to assist the physician with an important task before hastily disappearing.

Not wanting to be impolite, you knocked on the door and waited for a response, "May I please enter, my lord?" After a moment of silence, you knocked again, only to be met with silence.

Maybe he's not inside.

With a shrug, you cautiously pushed the door open. Your eyes widened when you immediately spotted Seonghwa seated at his desk, deeply engrossed in his reading with a slight furrow of his brows. Despite planning to leave, you found yourself rooted to the spot, admiring how attractive he looked, even when only sitting there.

As if sensing someone watching him, his eyes immediately shot up in alert, only to soften when he realised it was you. Caught off guard, you sputtered and bowed repeatedly, "I-I'm sorry, my lord! I didn't mean to spy on you or anything like that. Eunsook told me I could occupy myself with some books in here until dinner, and I—"

Too busy staring down at your feet, you didn't notice he had been making his way towards you. You gasped when his shoes came into view, looking up to find him right in front of you with a gentle smile on his face, "Relax, I'm not angry. You're welcome to spend time with me; I'd be happy to accompany you."

Looking at you closely now, his heart raced as he realised how stunning you appeared in this natural state, even more so than with a face full of heavy makeup, "You... you look beautiful, by the way." He remarked, watching with admiration as a blush tinted your cheeks when you quietly thanked him.

As you bit your lips shyly, he found it hard to look away, feeling a desire to kiss you that he had never experienced with any woman before, "M-my lord?" You stuttered, feeling flustered by the sudden attention he was paying to your lips.

With a hand outstretched, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to join him, "R-right, let me know what you're looking for. This is no royal library, but I'm sure I'll have whatever you need."

You gulped, shyly placing your hand in his waiting one, "I was hoping to learn more about lady etiquette. I... I want to be a proper lady and wife for you, my lord." His heart melted at that; despite the less-than-warm welcome he had given you, you were still willing to work hard and be better for him.

"Very well, come with me." Tightening his hold on your hand, he gently led you towards the bookshelves lining the side of his study.

As you passed by his desk, you couldn't help but do a double take at the reading material he had been so focused on just earlier. You'd recognise the Jang family crest anywhere.

"Wait, isn't that—"

Before you could inquire about it, Seonghwa was already in the process of tidying up the space and simultaneously putting the book away, "Sorry for the mess. Now, which area of lady etiquette did you want to start with first?" He asked, gesturing to the entire row of books dedicated to the topic.

"O-oh, I haven't really thought about that. I wasn't aware there were so many different areas. Gosh, I have much to learn..." You trailed off, your mind already reeling as you tried to figure out which area would be best to begin with.

He sighed in relief, successfully redirecting the conversation. His heart nearly stopped when he spotted the recognition in your eyes upon seeing your family records. The general didn't want to have to interview you in order to delve into your past; he didn't want you to relive any nightmares. More importantly, he didn't want to worry you by revealing any of the plans he had in store for your family.

« Preview of Part 6 »

Jongho entered his master's study that night, panting and puzzled to find the desk filled with books on... lady etiquette?

"S-sir?"

Seonghwa snapped up immediately, catching the assistant's appalled gaze on your books. He chuckled, "Oh, those are just your mistress' books. She said she wants to learn to be a proper lady and wife... can you believe that?"

Without himself noticing, the general had an almost dreamy look on his face as he smiled, lost in thoughts of you, unaware that he was letting it show on his face, revealing his affection for you.

"I see. I'm sure the mistress will no doubt make you proud with her studies soon." Jongho responded with a knowing grin, pleased to see his master being soft for a change, the intimidating General Park momentarily gone, all because of his wife.

Recalling his aide's purpose for being here this late, Seonghwa quickly turned serious, "Well, have you managed to find anything?"

The assistant immediately straightened up, moving closer to the general and lowering his voice, "I have, sir. With the funds you provided, I hired a private investigator willing to infiltrate the Jang estate. Fortunately, one of the older servants didn't take much to crack; she told him just about everything."

With a clenched fist, your husband asked for confirmation, "Well? Was it her father?"

Nodding, Jongho's expression turned grim, "It was as you assumed, sir. It was him, his wife, his stepdaughters, and even the servants. But there's... more. We've uncovered new information, the minister... he truly is despicable."

Sorry, this part took a little longer! Happy to report that I'm feeling much better! I was out all day with my family and immediately got to work finalising this as soon as I got home!

Thank you so much for 800+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and I'm so excited to hear all your thoughts (or even predictions for what's to come😈), I promise I won't spoil anything in my replies! <3

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[lostintransist]

Guys I saw a fic idea yesterday (I for the life of me cannot find it so if you know who is was please tag them) but the idea was basically that toxic!Ghost and his ex-girlfriend are still in love but she won't be with him because again TOXIC but Ghost keeps showing up to argue with her and then take her to bed.

But anyway my brain went mmmm don't like that let's make it so ex-girlfriend is truly done like calls in a friend with a shotgun to keep Ghost away kind of done.

CW: violence threatened, bad friendship interactions

He knocks like a cop, all force and meaty part of his fist pounding, rattling the door in its frame. You look at your friend. Tears have started to well in her eyes.

"Please," she whispers, "He's right there."

"Absolutely not. You asked me to come over to keep you honest, you want to be done with him. That can't change because he hate fucks like a deity." You point one stern finger at her, brows pulled tight, "You stay here."

The pounding knock comes again as you grab your salt loaded shotgun from the guest bed. Grip firm with your right hand you level the gun as you swing the door open. He had been slamming his fist into again.

Dark pits for eyes meet yours above a dark balaclava. He lifts a single brow with the slightest tilt of his head. He steps across the porch to stand at the stairs.

"Interesting."

His voice doesn't rumble the way you expect it to. It's still deep but not as deep as his frame would suggest.

"She's done. Now leave." You center the shotgun on his chest.

"I'd like to check that," he steps to the side as if to move around you.

Tracking his moment you tsk at him.

"I know you military types have issues with women and authority but I would happily spend a few nights in jail for putting some holes in you."

He takes another step forward. Forcing the barrel up and to the left you fire off a round into the night before centering on his body again. Once your gaze is locked with his you rack the next round into place.

His hands drift up from his sides. No fear is in his eyes, only cool calculation.

"I will be here all night, so don't even try it."

A moment of silence stretches like taffy between you.

"You handle that well." He is referring to the gun.

"I hunt dick, I mean deer for fun." He doesn't miss your intentional word slip.

At some point that you can't determine he decides. Standing tall he drops both hands to his pockets, turns and whistles as he walks back into the dark. You don't move from your guarding position until you hear the throaty roar of a motorcycle fade into the distance.

Stepping inside you close and lock the front door before breaking the gun open to remove the ammo. Your friend comes tearing around the corner crying.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't know what you did but thank you. I love him but I finally feel free?" She throws her arms around you in a hug you can only half return because one arm is still full.

"You need to move, like by the end of the week. I'll help you get movers scheduled."

She squeezes you hard once before stepping back to wipe her eyes.

"Want some wine while we look at options closer to work?"

"God yes. Let me put this away and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Time passes, yada yada yada. The friendship changes so that you are hardly speaking when the wedding invitation arrives. But you're free that day and drop it in your calendar.

She hadn't invited you to the ceremony. No big deal, while you missed the friendship she wasn't a great friend after you forced her ex boyfriend to leave her alone. You almost wonder if you are associated with him now in her mind, hence the distance.

You were surprised to find her ex among the crowd at the reception. Clocking him you made a point to avoid him. He caught you though, halfway into your wine taking a breather from the air that had turned muggy under the tent.

"You look good tonight."

Closing your eyes you took a deep breath.

"I look good every night, what's the point?"

He stepped up beside you.

"I'm looking for a -"

"Let me stop you right there," you cut him off. "Micro dosing poison will still kill a person. I've heard, repeatedly, how you are. If you want to have a shot at this conversation? Go the fuck to therapy and work through your issues."

With that you turn and stride inside, dropping your wine off at the bar you make your goodbyes and slip away into the darkness.

He finds you eight months later at a coffee shop. You had been listening to music when the chair across from you slides out and a ghost from the past settles into it. He slides a business card across the table to you.

Moving on headphone you give him your best 'the hell do you want' look.

"That's the contact info for my therapist," he taps twice on the card with a finger. "She has permission to speak to you about how I'm doing."

"And why would I want to do that?" You ask archly.

"Because you're interesting, and interested."

"Am I?"

"My number is on the back," he taps the card one more time before standing and leaving you bewildered and, unfortunately, the teensiest bit interested.

Masterlist

[csuitebitches]

How do you ACTUALLY network? Like the idea of a coffee chat always baffled me. Like a stranger would agree to get coffee with me for me to essentially interview and then what? I guess my bigger question is how do I provide value to them besides buying them coffee? And the whole concept just feels cringe and transactional

I’ll give you two recent examples, one of work and one of a social event.

A friend invited me to a party. I don’t know said friend very well, but we’re on good terms. I said yes cause why not.

I met a girl there who happened to do some very interesting things and had similar interests to me. How did I find that out? I asked her about herself, I found out where she was previously residing, I learned what she did for a living, and I began associating it to the things that I do. She’s from the same city that I want to move to, she now lives 20 minutes from me, and she’s interested in spirituality. My work happened to organise a similar event a week later, which I immediately invited her for. I asked her for her number so that I could send her the invite.

What she immediately liked about me and expressed, was that I don’t use social media, when we agreed to exchange contact info. I explained to her that I’d have to connect her on iMessage/ WhatsApp and not instagram. That allows us to stay in touch much better than on social media.

I left the party earlier than everyone but I looked for her and told her that we should catch up next weekend or whenever she was free. She agreed.

So this is what you learn from example 1:

1. Learn to associate.

When someone tells you that they work in XYZ company, in B city, start by connecting things in your head. Who else do you know works in the same field, could they know each other? What do you know about the work that they do, and if you don’t know much, can you find out more? Most people, including myself, love to talk about what we do at work and what our job entails. Has their work allowed them to travel a lot? If yes, where?

In order to associate, you need to read a lot and learn a lot. You have to understand what’s happening in the world, what the latest news is, because how the hell are you going to continue that conversation?

2. You have to snowball the conversation. The goal is to try and understand WHO this person is. If someone asks you, have you met CSB and you have, you should be able to say yes, this is what she’s interested in, this is what she works in - you should be able to pitch CSB to another person.

Not every single conversation has to be valuable. You also have to decide whether the person in front of you is worth your time.

3. Exchange numbers, not social media. Nothing is going to come out of exchanging instagram or LinkedIn.

4. When you’re leaving the event, look for the person you met and tell them that you’re leaving and that you guys should catch up sometime. If you haven’t exchanged contact info yet, that’s the best way to do it. “Oh let’s catch up again soon! Can I have your number? We can grab a coffee or drink whenever.”

—-

Example 2. I’d gone to a conference a few months ago. I met a young guy, around my age, who works in an accelerator. I’m very interested in the start up world, and he’s working in one of the best ones in the world, at a decent position. He immediately began telling me about recent funding that they did, what sort of start ups they’re looking for, etc. I asked him for more information, which he was super happy to talk to me about.

We’re on very good terms but we live in different cities. I often send him reports because I work in media, and he sends me PDFs and pitch decks. Whenever we’re in each other’s town, we message each other. Otherwise, I make it a point to reach out to him once a month, just casually, to find out what’s happening.

Takeaways from example 2:

5. Scratch each other’s backs. You can’t just get value from the other person, provide them with the same. It doesn’t have to be work related. Let’s say the person you’ve connected with is interested in indie music and you learn that an indie band is playing somewhere - send them a link to the event and tell them that you remembered that they like this genre, and you just wanted to share the info.

6. What’s important to learn is maintaining relationships. I reach out to all my mentors, all my latest connections once a month. That doesn’t mean that I’m necessarily going to meet them face to face, but I just check in and ask how things are going.

So.

Approach. Associate. Snowball. Exchange info. Maintain.

[russellsppttemplates]

Soon enough (Lance Stroll)

There are many different ways to start a family, and Lance and Y/N are hopefully starting their own

Note: english is not my first language. This piece is written from experiences I know (my mother's, specifically), so it is probable that there are some mistakes as I'm not a doctor. Either way, I've tried to treat this as respectfully as possible as this is very close to my heart. Am I really giddy for the follow up parts? Yes, I am!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions endometriosis, fertility issues and treatments and associated topics like blood, medicine, hospitals, needles, etc., male masturbation, pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"It's just going to be negative, Lance", you mumbled, placing the stick on top of the counter and turning to the tap to ways your hands. "Then we'll know what to look for, sweetheart", he attempted, knowing how much the subject weighed on your chest.

When you decided it was time to start thinking about building your family, you and Lance went back to Dr. Marlin like she had asked you. Given your endometriosis, she wanted to accompany you in your fertility journey, checking out all of the possibilities before you moved on to bigger situations.

Lance had been the most supportive partner, always there to cheer you on and to hold you whenever things didn't work out, "Dr. Marlin said that if this didn't work, we are moving on to the big treatments", you looked at him, "and that's what we will do if you want, whenever you feel comfortable", he kissed the side of your head after pulling you close to him, "we're in this together, Y/N".

Grabbing the test when your phone beeped, you didn't even flinch, "negative, like I said", you mumbled, your top lip trembling as you hid your face in your husband's neck. As much as you expected it, it still hurt. Like any other couple wanting to start parenthood, you wanted to remember this period of your life fondly, but you also knew you weren't any other couple. You weren't alone, and since you became more invested in learning about your condition, you found out about all the other couples who had been through the same and their happy families, remembering someone with a very similar history to yours.

"I love you, Y/N, so much. I love you and we're going to have our own family, my love", Lance whispered in your ear, "we're in this together until the end, whatever it takes", he soothed, kissing your skin and hugging you tight against him.

"Do you have any meetings today?", you asked as you pulled away a few moments later, wiping your tears on your sleeve, "I have one at the end of the day, and I'm free for the rest of the week", Lance informed, "I have to get to work for the afternoon only, my morning is free too", you sniffed.

"Then I can call Dr. Marlin to book an appointment and you can go and get ready because we are going on a walk. It's a very quiet one, I doubt we'll run into anyone, okay?", he suggested, smiling when he saw your lips curve upwards slightly, "you're the best. I love you, Lance", you kissed his lips, walking out the bathroom and into the bedroom while he made the phone call.

.

"Do you need a blood sample?", you asked the assistant on the counter, "no, today it's just an ultrasound, and after that you might have to come in for other samples, just depends on how the appointment goes today", she smiled, "Dr. Marlin will call you shortly".

Sitting next to Lance as you waited, you grabbed his hand and started playing with in fingers on top of his thigh, "are you ready to hear that my uterus is a sad sad place for a baby to grow and that not even your guys want to stay in there? We've known eacother for a good while, so I thought we'd befriended, but apparently they're either too snobby or my uterus is a very hostile place", you joked, hoping that it would shake your nerves off, "too much?", you cringed.

"That's not the weirdest thing you've said to me", your husband chuckled, "and I'll listen to anything you say as long as it makes you smile", he cupped your cheek, "besides, who knows? Maybe my guys are also picky, or slow".

Dr. Marlin welcomed you in her office not long after, greeting you and confirming the informations she had, "like we discussed before, it seems that our best approach would be treatments like IVF. For that, of you still want to go for that route, we'll need some samples so we can also rule out any questions from Lance and see where your levels are", she said, getting up, "for today, we'll do the ultrasound as this will also given us more information".

Getting up and laying down on the bed, Lance followed you, standing on your side as you lifted your shirt enough for her to squeeze the gel and move the wand around, "see here? This is your fallopian tube, and it seems the most blocked, while your uterus is actually shedding well enough", she explained, pointing to the different spots on the screen.

"And is that good or bad? I mean, given the circumstances", you questioned, "I can't tell you with absolute certainty, as everyone is different, but this is usually a good sign. It means that it's your eggs that are not travelling to the uterus, and not like you have a low count or that they don't have a good place to settle once fertilised", she smiled, "I'm prescribing you the bloodwork and the samples we need, but after that, if everything checks out, we'll wait for your period and then we'll start couting from there".

.

"It's time for the shot, sweetheart", Lance called, grabbing the supplies he needed as you sat on the sofa. Even though you were fine doing it by yourself, having Lance doing the injections when he was home helped him feel involved in the process. "You can leave that there, then I can just pick it up after you take the needle out", you noted, placing the gauze in your thigh.

Lance tapped the syringe twice to make sure it was at the right level, kneeling down in front of you, "I'm just going to pinch your tummy, is this side, right?", he confirmed, seeing you nod, "are you ready, love?", he checked over before injecting the medicine on your skin, holding the syringe steady for a little bit before pulling it out, discarding it in the medical waste bin Dr. Marlin had given you while you dealt with the burn.

"This one is burning a lot more than I expected", you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the stung softened, feeling Lance's lips on your tummy and right by your hand that was pressing the gauze down, "you're very brave, Y/N, I love you".

"I love you too, handsome", you cradled his face, rubbing his stubbly cheek before helping him store the supplies for the next injection time, "we only have four days left", you smiled, looking at the medicine vials.

"Soon enough, Y/N, soon enough", he kissed your forehead, hugging carefully to not press on your tender lower belly, "you're so amazing all I keep doing is just that, but you're taking it all in, it's your body going through the changes", he kissed your softly.

"You're the one dealing with these hormonal changes, I still can't believe I cried when your sister showed up at the table with the pie a little bit more golden that it usually is. It wasn't burnt and it tasted amazing as usual, but the sight of it not done like usual sent me in a fit of cries", you blushed. Chloe was understanding like you expected her to be, but you still couldn't shake her panicked few seconds when she saw your tears, calling her brother immediately so he could hug you and soothe you.

"It's part of the process, love, and I want to be here for as much as I'm able", he said, interrupted by the sound of your phone going off, "it's Dr. Marlin, let me put in on speaker".

The phone call couldn't have gone better, "Y/N, I've reviewed the scans and it looks really good, keep up with the rest of the treatment and next week we'll look into the retrievals", she announced.

.

"This wasn't the way we were supposed to make a baby", you mumbled, "I should be getting naked and we'd be in our bed, and we'd whisper how much we love eachother and then we'd cuddle in said bed, not with me in a procedure room and you in another, in these cold and sterile sheets", you looked up at Lance.

You were back in the clinic so the doctors could collect both samples, and while you've had the years to prepare for this, and with therapy it was something you had worked over, sometimes you were still plagued by these thoughts.

Fortunately, your husband knew just what to say, "it's not the usual way, yes, but it's filled with love nonetheless. You're putting yourself through procedures after your body had been medicated with injections, and that is love. For out little one who we will hopefully hold in our arms when the time comes, love for our family and love for me. You're going to make me a father because of this amount of love you're showing me and that we share, okay?", he smiled soothingly, kissing your forehead, "no more of those worries, okay? Besides, we'll have loads of time for you to touch me and for me to touch you", he winked, helping you turn around so he could help you with the gown's tie.

Kissing your forehead goodbye once the nurses came to take you, Lance was then pulled to a room for himself, "all of the supplies you need are there", she pointed to the sterile table, leaving him alone in the room. Masturbating in a hospital room was not something he ever thought about doing. It wasn't that you weren't there with him, because he certainly had done it many times whenever he travelled for races and you weren't there, so he figured it was the white walls, plain in a room that only had the purpose he was in there for too. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he found the photo album of pictures of you he kept for these occasions. The collection was built along the years you've dated, usually ending up on his phone whenever you both felt particularly daring and in need of the other and you weren't physically able to satisfy it. The picture he used, however, was one he had taken himself. The picture was probably three months old as he had taken in on your anniversary, your naked side profile as you looked sweetly at the camera. You hadn't done anything big to celebrate it, opting instead for staying in and spending your time between the sheets working on your shared dream of a family. And that's exactly what he was doing right now, stroking himself as he recalled the sweet noises you make that he adores so much, the way you feel around him and how your body feels in his hands, soon collecting his finish in the sterile cup.

Making sure it was sealed tight and then washing his hands, Lance fixed himself and walked out of the room, heading up to the desk and handing his sample to the nurse, "there you go", he began, seeing her store it in a cooler like box, "I'm sorry to bother, but do you have any news on my wife?", he wondered, "Y/N's procedure seems to be concluded", the nurse looked at the monitor in front of her, "they're probably just finishing up and she'll be up in her room any minute. Do you want me to walk you there?".

"I think I still remember the way, thank you though", Lance smiled, walking along the corridors until he found the room you had been in. He sat in the comfortable chair, smiling when he saw your colourful fuzzy socks waiting on your bag, remembering reading reports from other women saying that their feet were cold after the retrieval, and since you weren't a big fan of the cold, Lance made sure to pack them for you.

The noise in the corridor caught his attention as the nurse that had wheeled you to the procedure room came back, wheeling you back inside, "she's still a bit sleepy, but the procedure went well. Dr. Marlin said that, at first glance, everything is right on track", she smiled as she noticed Lance's worry fade, "we will be both here in a bit so we can discharge her, but if something happens meanwhile, there's a bell there", she pointed, excusing herself and closing the door behind her.

Turning to face you, Lance kissed your cheek as you fluttered your lashes, "hey, sleepy girl", he cooed, prompting you to fully open your eyes, "I heard you did really well in there", he admitted proudly.

"Yes, they said something about a good number of eggs, I think I might've compared myself to a chicken, so you know, good things", you giggled, looking for his hand to hold, "thank you, for all this", you kissed his knuckles, "no need to thank me, we're in this together, sweetheart".

After explaining you the signs you should look out for, the medical team discharged you and off home you went with Lance.

.

Since you got the call to book the embryo transfer day, you and Lance had been cautiously hopeful with the results, "Lance, Y/N, I'm happy to say that we have 10 embryos to work with. They have developed healthily and without any complications", Dr. Marlin cheered.

"Let's go get a baby put inside of me, hm?", you stepped out of the car, holding Lance's hand as you walked to the door. Checking in was quick and you were almost immediately welcomed into the procedure room, sitting in the bed and covering yourself as requested.

"I imagine I'm looking very sexy", you joked in a way to deal with the nerves, "you always look the sexiest to me", your husband kissed the side of your head, resting his forehead in yours, "we're finally here, my love, you've got this, we've got this", he whispered, almost terrified that of he spoke any louder he would disturb the mood.

You heard a knock on the door, Dr. Marlin and her colleague walking in wheeling a small cart, "we have your embryos here", she pointed to the environment where they had been developing. As they rearranged the room, they pushed a highchair by your side, telling Lance he could sit in there while they worked, "so, Y/N, you shouldn't feel too much pain, rather some pressure as we make the transfer", she said as she maneuvered the small catheter, her colleagues guiding the ultrasound as you looked at Lance, finding the usual calm in his brown eyes.

"That was very well placed, actually the perfect spot", Dr. Marlin said, smiling behind her mask as he removed the devices and covered you up. "It's done", she empathised, rubbing your shoulder and hugging you, "now you're just going to stay here for 10, 15 minutes or so, to make sure everything settles", she excused herself, leaving you and Lance in the room.

"We made a baby and they're inside of you", Lance choked out. Throughout this process, he had always been the strong one, the one to hold you whenever you didn't want to do the injection because it hurt too much, whenever you felt like crap from the meds and whenever you lost hope, but today he cried for the first time, bringing tears to your own, "I'm so happy, I promise these are happy tears", he chuckled, "I always say that I'm the luckiest guy because you love me, at my best and t my worst, and today you proved it to me once again. I really am the luckiest", he kissed your lips, salty tears in the mix while you waited.

"We'll see you in two weeks for the test, okay?", your OB waved goodbye after giving you two big hugs, "thank you, once more", you spoke, forever grateful for the way she led you through this whole journey.

Driving home was quiet and comfortable, your seat adjusted so you didn't have as much pressure on your abdominal area, "They really should get this holes sorted, they've been here for a while now and they're only getting worse", Lance mumbled, "I'm sorry, sweetheart", he apoligised as he slowed down the car as much as it was safe to, "it's fine, it doesn't hurt or anything", you justified, not seeing the need to be so careful.

Blushing, your husband passed all the holes, the concrete now smooth as he drove faster again, "can't give any more shakes to the little bun, you know? Making sure they stay glued to the wall and all", he said sweetly, hopefully bringing lightness to the situation as you pouted at his cuteness.

"I love you, Lance. There's no one else I'd want to do this with", you stretched your hand, landing on his thigh as his own hand travelled to your tummy, rubbing it softly and hoping that your family was growing inside of you.

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

I KINDA HAD THE SAME IDEA with the low honor high honor thing! Im currently figuring exactly in what way the story would change [granted it does involve one of my ocs so maybe a lot more than it should] but its fun to think in what way Micah would be 'better' or more loyal to the gang

I feel like he'd still pick fights in camp, but like in a way older siblings would. Its more teasing/bullying and shit instead of straight up slurs. Idk, might just be me NNXJXJC

I also think he wouldn't go out of his way to help someone if they asked him to, but he'd watch them continue to struggle with mayne like a gun to the point where he like has to get up and be like 'OKAY you are so pathetically shit at this - im going to show you how to do this and we're not taking a break until you shoot 3 targets in a row' or something

I dont think he'd willingly be vulnerable anytime soon based on his upbringing and shit, but iiii like to think it happens sometimes accidentally idk JXJXJC

Weep weep weep this is making me wanna explore what RDR2 would be like if Micah was a marginally better person (mainly what id he never ratted).

i am glad we have converging ideas when it comes to high honor micah! I’ve talked with mutuals before on wtf micah could do that could be considered high honor, and we came up with little. One idea i suggested is that he accidentally saved people)s lives through his own selfishness (ex: saves someone from rabid dog because “if i didnt kill it, it would have gone for me next.”)

Micah's high honor is selfish in a unique way compared to low honor. Instead of focusing on himself and his survival, it more becomes a common goal to keep the gang as a whole surviving. He is no hunter, but he can bring in money and be a daaaaaamn good shot. Guard duties are often reserved for Lenny and Sean and Charles and whoever else is free. Micah *can* go on guard duty but keeps himself out of that tiresome job by being out of camp and bringing in money. “Sorry, can’t got on guard duty, I just got back from a stage coach robbery and I want to enjoy my well deserved relaxation.”

he is still a snarky sounding piece of shit, but like you said, he is less of a full on hateful man. He is still a sly, observing snake and studies the flaws of his gang mates, but he keeps his fangs sheethed. The idea with the snake animal for high honor is that Micah is still as lethal and capable of assholery as he is in bad honor, he is just deciding to not. He holds his venom to be inflicted on those who the gang need (or want) dead. He also leans into the snake vibes by being a slimy slithering manipulator. He isn’t a charmer, but he has a skill for talking people long enough to get plans into action (or to just backstab the enemy).

i feel like Morgan would still dislike Micah for being a man with bad vibes. Morgan is also just a hater sometimes (look at how he perceives Kieran). Micah still murders and has bad plans like Blackwater so it’s not like Arthur has *no* reason to distrust Micah.

i imagine high honor micah makes an effort on occasion to be involved in camp socializing, Sean and Jack’s return for example. He mainly drinks and flirts with the girls and boys at the event.

and because i like the red vs blue honor color association of the game, Micah’s design would be a little different, making the blue in his design a little more present. A neckerchief is an example of blue, but i am sure more blue could be worked into his design somewhere. Idea is that the ratio of red to blue in character’s designs can allude to how honorable they are (though it is not a 1:1 visualization). I imagine Micah would be 1:3 blue to red. Maayyybe. One quarter an okay man, three quarters a pretty sleazy man.

micah is still deeply troubled soooo no sweetie pie vulnerability for him! At most he tries to flirt (like asking Mary-Beth to dance) and the people are 1-2% more polite about turning him down when he’s high honor. He’s still all alone and his prickly exterior deeps people at arms length from him. He is both deeply dependent on attaching himself to a gang/someone to follow (my hc), but he also aspires to be independent and run his own gang. I suppose in high honor, he hopes to earnestly stick with the VDL gang and rise in the ranks by impressing Dutch (because Dutch is kind of an easy man to impress when you bootlick).

[junosmindpalace]

Hello there dear! I was so excited to hear that your requests were open again, your writing is truly gorgeous and perpetrates the characters so well! I understand if you’re busy and prefer to write about jjba as of late, but if it’s not too late would it be alright to request another Senku ishigami fic? He doesn’t get a lot of love anymore and I believe it to be such a wonderful series.. it would be amazing!

hi there anon! thank you so much for your kind words! because you didn’t specify a theme or plot, i wrote an idea of mine instead. i hope that's alright! 

Senku never fails to surprise his peers. He has a knack for amazing and even scaring people with his science projects. His enthusiasm was seemingly boundless, contagious even to those who weren’t as passionate about science as he was. Not many people could usually match his excitement, and a lot of the time he’d indulge in whatever new science fascination he discovered on his own.

Or so people thought.

It didn’t take long for people to learn your name and for it to become commonly associated with his. The two of you spent all your free time working away on projects, from chemistry to tech. You had been Senku’s friend ever since the two of you were young, and growing up together hasn’t changed the fact that Senku always sought you out first to share in his enthusiasm with. 

Senku never fails to surprise his peers, and today was no exception. The door to the science clubroom swung wide open and hit the wall with a loud thud, making the club members turn in surprise toward the door. Senku strode toward a nearby counter, setting down a small metal tank on top as he did so. 

As he walked over, one of the nearby club members turned to him in wonder. “Whoa, Senku. Whatcha got there?”

“Sulfur hexafluoride. A gas six times denser than air. In other words, you turn into Darth Vadar when you inhale it!” 

The club members all gasped in awe, eager to try out the gas themselves. Senku raised his hands up in mock surrender as they crowded around him and smirked. “Y/N’s bringing the balloons. Are they not here yet?” 

As soon as he asked, the door to the science clubroom slammed open yet again. 

“Right here!”

The crowd redirected its gaze toward you holding up a plastic pack of balloons in the air with a proud smile. They cheered as you made your way over, handing it over to Senku. 

He hands over the balloon for you to try first, and the room quiets as you inhale from it. A beat of silence, and then-

“Greetings.” 

Your unnaturally deep voice makes everyone in the room light up and laugh, taking the balloon from your hands to give the voice a try themselves. Soon enough, each member of the club is taking turns playing the part of an evil villain dropping a dramatic line. 

The two of you had already tried out the effects of the gas on your voices at Senku’s place only a day earlier. It was needed for one of your projects, and Senku, knowing you’d get a kick out of it, demonstrated the effects of the gas on his voice as you laughed over how creepy he sounded. You amused yourself with the gas from time to time as the two of you worked. You always kept a balloon in your hands, inhaling into it at the most random times, always making yourself giggle.  And today was no exception. 

As you laughed watching your clubmates entertain themselves with the gas, you skipped over to Senku and nudged him in the side. “So, does that mean helium’s next?”

It’s what he found so endearing about you, your endless curiosity and enthusiasm. He loved being able to share with you his deep love and fascination of science and have you return that same fascination with the exact same energy. He loves watching your face as you observe an experiment he’s done a million times in wonder, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of your eagerness to learn. 

Senku never fails to surprise his peers, and that includes you, too. And out of all the impressed looks he gets, he finds yours to be the one he's always most eager to see.

He grinned, ready to blow you away yet again. “Ten billion percent.” 

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒

PAIRING: platonic!loki laufeyson x f!reader x platonic!bucky barnes

TAGS: fluff, prank war, mutant!reader, canon divergent, he/him pronouns for loki

A/N: one more lost selencgraphy fic that i came back and edited a bit :) just a little silly goofy fic with favs! happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: ~2k

masterlist || request box <3

You were growing tired of the repetitiveness of how the tower looked. Of course you were grateful for Tony providing you a place to live, but the interior design could use some touch-ups. However, when you ran the idea by the man himself you didn’t expect him to start on it immediately. “I know I told you I wanted to make some changes but maybe a little heads up next time?”

“If I remember the conversation correctly, I remember you said you wanted—no, needed this to happen, so I’m just doing what you asked me to,” he shrugged.

“I- Ugh, can you at least tell these guys to clear out for just a couple minutes, so I can grab some of my stuff,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

Tony quickly waved for the crew he hired to clear out for you. Entering your room, you grabbed some clothes, your laptop, a pillow and blanket and stuffed them into a small backpack. After making sure you had everything that you needed to get through the day while they worked, you headed out back past Tony into the main area of the floor. As you walked out, Loki was stepping out of the elevator. “What is this?”

“I talked to Tony about some things that I wanted to change about my side of the floor, and he decided to not procrastinate for the first time in his life,” you retorted, raising your voice slightly at the end of your sentence for Tony to hear. “Meaning that I gotta crash out here for the week, or until they’re done.”

He hummed in response and suddenly waved his hands. To your right, green light flashed over the couches as Loki conjured some of his stuff, some more pillows and blankets, and a movie projector. “Sleepover?!” you gasped.

“Sleepover,” Loki confirmed, a grin growing on both of your faces.

“I gotta invite, Bucky,” you say as you go to grab your phone, but he stops you.

“Already done, darling.”

Unfortunately, the sleepover couldn’t start until later that evening because it was still Friday meaning everyone still had work to do.

You, Loki, Bucky, and Wanda all were given second chances with your places on the team. Like Bucky, HYDRA had controlled you for decades, using your abilities to further push their agenda. They’d managed to get their hands on other mutants, but you were the only one with your kind of powers that HYDRA was able to get their hands on. A pyrokinetic.

To them, you were their purifier. The one who would “bring their goals to light.” Despite your differing abilities, the two of you were partners. Then you and the Winter Soldier were sent on a mission to take down Captain America and his associates.

Everything was going smoothly until your masks fell off mid-fight. Steve had recognized the both of you. Old friends from a time you were all taken from. Despite the brainwashing, Steve had triggered something in your brains that caused you both to become disoriented. When you regrouped with HYDRA, vague memories of your old life filled your mind. Despite their efforts to keep you under their control, you and the Soldier- Bucky were able to break free. Eventually you and Bucky found yourselves back with Steve and worked with the Avengers to try and atone for all the suffering HYDRA had made you cause. After months of work with the Dora Milaje, the Russian trigger words could no longer bring forth the Winter Soldier and Pyro.

A few years later, Thor returned to Earth along with his brother, Bruce, and a few thousand Asgardians in search of a new home. Thor had ensured the rest of the team that Loki was no longer the man they had met initially and that Thanos had compelled him to do all those things.

Like the ones before him, he was given a chance to atone for his previous actions with a place on the team. Eventually, you all were able to become comfortable amongst the rest of the Avengers. Steve had been one of your closest friends before HYDRA had taken you and Bucky so you tried to reconnect. Rebuilding that friendship after all these years was hard, but you all made it work. It took the rest of them a while before they warmed up to the new additions but soon enough, everyone came around. Living in one place helped with that a lot. Routines were built and stuck to. The Avengers had become a true family.

Of course, some were closer than others. You, Bucky, and Loki were the closest. The three of you became inseparable at some point. Tony was willing to let you and Loki live on the same floor in the tower, but called for at least a little separation. Bucky took the floor beneath yours and shared it with Steve. With the renovations to your part of the floor, the chaos that erupted when the three of you were together was about to get much worse.

A secluded sleepover with only the three of you was the least of the rest of the team’s worries. Most of the time, the separation between the three of you kept things pretty calm in the tower. Putting the God of Mischief, pyrokinetic, and super soldier together sounded like an amazing idea for missions, but in a normal setting? Utter mayhem.

At first, the pranks were contained between the three of you but later you learned that you all worked better together. 

Growing up with you both, Steve already had a taste of what you were capable of in terms of pranks. He also was very familiar with that look on your face when you were about to prank someone.

Finishing up your tasks for the week, you walked into the kitchen to grab a quick snack before brewing your devious plans. Walking in, Steve was busy at work making dinner. Looking up he noticed you enter and greeted you. As he looked at you, something worried him but decided to pay no mind to it at first. His first mistake.

“So what’s cooking, Stevie?’

Turning away from the stove, he turned to answer you as you took a seat across the counter island. “I,” he started, “am making spaghetti. Do not eat too much before dinner.”

You both let out a chuckle as he returned back to his pot. “So any plans for the weekend, Mr. America?”

“Hmm, nothing much. Probably gonna do the usual, you know. Hit the gym, maybe sketch a little.”

Finishing up the noodles and sauce, he placed them on the counter to let them sit before he called for dinner. You still hadn’t moved from your spot surprisingly. But instead of snacking on some fruit, you were now leaning back in your seat, eyes closed. Studying your face once again, a subtle look on your face caused worry to fill him once again, he just couldn’t pinpoint why. Unfortunately for him, you had been planning some pranks for the weekend. Noticing the lack of noise from the cook, you opened your eyes and were met with the blonde man staring at you. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just been a while since we’ve just been like this. Just us two hanging out.”

“Yeah…”

“You remember when Bucky had to go stay with his sisters for the day, leaving us stuck at my house.”

You hummed. “You cooked us spaghetti that day too.”

A silence fell between you two as you felt the nostalgia.

“Alrighty, we don’t want the food to get cold, why don’t you let the team know dinner’s ready?”

—

Not long after you left the kitchen to alert the team, you realized that going through the tower and letting everyone know one by one was going to take forever. “F.R.I.D.A.Y?” you called out.

“Yes, Y/N”

“Could you let everyone know that Steve is done cooking?”

“Of course.”

Before returning to the dining room, you decided to go back to your floor. As you exited the elevator Loki was exiting his room to meet with the rest of the team. “Darling,” he greeted.

A smile grew on your face. “Good, you’re still here. I got some ideas that I want to run by you.”

The two of you finally joined the rest of the team in the dining room a few minutes later. Unfortunately for you, Bucky had already begun eating. You tried to catch Bucky’s attention, but he was too busy trying to stuff his mouth. Luckily for you, your trio consisted of a god who could read minds and communicate telepathically. Turning to Loki, you subtly pointed to your head to signal him to read your mind. He quickly caught on and his voice appeared in your head.

What is it, darling?

I wanted to tell Buck the plan, but he’s already eating... Could you do it for me?

Loki’s abilities always came in handy whenever you wanted to do something like this. Unbeknownst to everyone else, you could have full blown scheming sessions or just conversations. He lightly nodded as you both continued to grab your food. The three of you have done this so many times that Loki randomly popping into your heads didn’t startle you anymore. After a minute, you noticed a faint smile on Bucky’s face. Suddenly Loki’s voice popped into your head again.

He told me to tell you, and I quote, “You are a fucking genius, doll.”

You slightly smirked as you ate. The rest of the team has no idea what’s about to hit them in the next few days.

—

“WHAT IN THE FUCK?”

The weekend had already begun and everyone was doing their own thing. Steve, of course, was doing his normal routines as usual. Luckily for you, you knew that schedule by heart and so did Bucky. You both snuck into the gym just before he got in and set everything up. Hearing Steve’s shout signaled that your plans were more than successful. Everyone who was still in the tower ran over to the gym to see what was going on, Tony arriving first. “Woahhh Cap, what’s with the lang- HOLY SHIT-”

As everyone piled into the gym, they were all met with Steve drenched in water and covered in flour. No one could keep themselves from laughing. Tony looked up to the ceiling where two buckets were placed, both tilted over after releasing their contents. “Looks like someone set you up, Cap,” he said through broken chuckles.

Steve thought for a moment before slowly turning his gaze to two people in the room. You and Bucky. “You two-”

“What?” you asked, raising your hands to emphasize your innocence.

“Don’t ‘What?’ me, Y/L/N. I knew you were up to something.”

You turned to Bucky, a face of guilt and slight fear on both of your faces to Steve’s rage. “Run?” he whispered.

“Run,” you confirmed. As the two of you bolted out of the gym, Steve chased quickly behind you. “I fucking hate you two!”

As you both rounded the corner to the kitchen, you passed Loki who hid behind the wall of the open door. Once you two cleared the doorway he quickly poured oil onto the floor. Suddenly, Steve came flying into the room. Literally. As the rest of the Avengers caught up with you all at the sound of Steve crashing, Tony couldn’t help but double over and die of laughter. “Oh my god!! F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The security cameras got that, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“PERFECT!”

As Steve gathered himself, he let out a groan. “Why do I always have to end up at the other end of your pranks?”

“Because that’s how it’s always been, Stevie,” you remarked as you patted his shoulder and left the room.

Before Bucky left the room behind you, he whispered to Tony, “Please send me that footage.”

Steve, with his super hearing, still caught it though. “DO NOT SEND HIM THAT FOOTAGE!”

[summeridols]

How to make icons like these:

Flags: Idol system, Bubblegender, Musicstar

Warning: This tutorial relies on the idea that you have some understanding of how to use photoediting software like photoshop, however if something that doesn't make sense then feel free to ask and I will explain it as best as I can.

All the icons we made for this can be found here! Thank you for reading, please consider reblogging this post and the icons because this took forever to write up and the icons take a LONG time to make.

In this tutorial I will make DID/OSDD Aoi Miyake icons.

Anyway let's get into it!

Step one, choose what you're going to make (and gathering resources)

This may seem obvious, but going in with a plan makes these so much easier.

In this stage we consider three things:

The flag and/or colors we want to use in the icon, this is important as it can affect the images used or even the character depending on how similar their colors are

Character and the general colors associated with them, this is important as it can makes the filtering stage easier (or harder) and can make an icon look 'wrong' or 'right' sadly

The border of the icon and how that will affect the icon itself, sometimes they're easy to work with, others not so much. Our method differs from a lot of other peoples so we take more time with them than most others

In this case I will be making DID icons of Aoi Miyake from D4DJ, however due to how most of her cards have a blue tint I will be using the plural peafowl flag by m0dem0n than the original DID flag- This is to save time and make th icons look more harmonious.

We will also be using this mask by i'mjustchillinghere as the icon base

Step two, coloring the middle image (optional step)

This is a lot of guess work and everyone has a different process for this. Essentially we're going to make a PSD that makes the image look better with the colors of the flag.

As shown above we have the flag and the character image, but they don't match completely. The rose and other blue accents are too saturated compared to the flag and the black is too black and the wrong blue hue, the eye could also be a bit greener and saturated imo.

What I like to do is open the image with the flag behind or infront, so I can see the colors I'm working with.

Then I open the hue editor layer (Layer > New Adjustment Layer > Hue and Saturation). It's very important to clip the hue layer to the image so it doesn't start messing with the colors of the flag (we've had this happen many times before it's very awkward trying to match a color that keeps changing) to clip right click 'Clipping Mask'.

Your screen should then look like this:

Okay so if you need to adjust the screen to get the icon in the center so you can see everything do this now.

Next where the box with the hue options says master, click it.

These are all the color options you can change, in this we'll mostly be using, yellow, green and blue. For other projects blue and cyan sometimes get 'mixed up' and can control both shades so be careful with that.

Other color settings we personally use are: Vibrance and Selective Color (both are located under the Layer option), but in this case I'm happy to just use Hue and Vibrance.

This is what the icons look like:

No color editing | Just Hue and Saturation | Hue and Saturation + Vibrance

Now your middle icon is ready turn off the background layer and save the image as a transparent png!

Step three, preparing the mask for use

So the mask is the base of your icon, however if you clip all aspects of your icon to the mask it looks like this and you can't see the flag.

So what you need to do is layer the mask. This will vary in difficulty, it can depend on how far apart the pieces of the mask are and how they interlink. You could erase the border parts but that takes a lot of time.

This icon is simple because to me there's three clear sections, the middle part, the border and the rose. What you need to do is copy the layer three times and get the wand- I would reccomend having the wand strengh over 100 or else black lines may remain, but this will depend on how close the black parts are.

Hide the top two layers and work from the bottom up. Select all the areas you want to delete, in this case I can only delete the rose (the border is too close to the middle part and would delete that as well) and then hit delete.

In this case, I will just erase the border by hand, and then BOOM, you have a base!

Hide this layer and move to the next, for this one I'm removing the middle and the rose.

For the next layer you can select what's in the layer below and delete it without it impacting the border, which makes the icon process easier, however in this case I'm going to give out the border layers for you here!

Step four, using the mask

NOW you can clip the flag to the layers! We always clip it to the base and border layer.

As for the rose... We make a seperate layer and clip it to those rose. Then (using the eye dropper tool) pick colors from the flag to use to color it in! As shown:

Next step is to add the image you colored!

Go to File > Open and Place and then choose the PNG from your gallery and place it in the icon. Once it's there fiddle around with it until you get the image you want and then BOOM!

Now you have a singlar icon!

Feel free to repeat this as many times as you want and make as many icons as you want.

-

All the icons we made for this can be found here! Thank you for reading, once again please consider reblogging this post and the icons because this took forever to write up and the icons take a LONG time to make.

[genji-centric]

Hi I saw your request were open and I was wondering if you can do headcanons of hanzo,genji,cass,d.va and tracer meeting a nullsector trooper robot thinking it was evil but the twist it that the nullsector trooper somehow became sentient like normal omnics and is rebelling against nullsector themselves

Ofc!! This is such a cool idea. I'm excited to write it. The sull sector, in general is cool, and I'm looking forward to the direction Overwatch takes with it. Hope you enjoy!! ^^

Hanzo:

Hanzo has travled around, his road to redemption long and tiring. Having a past such as his, he grew to expect threats at every corner, assassin's of the former Shimada empire after him was no small feat. Yet he carried on, accepting it as punishment for his actions. But he learned more about the world, omnics, the awakening. All historic facts he didn't learn much, instead training to be the next Shimada leader.

It's ironic how fate comes out. When he went under the radar away from the prying eyes of the assassin's nowhere near his skill, he stepped foot onto Null Sector land. Enemies from the Null Sector were no threat to him. His bow and arrow could pierce through the metal platings with enough accuracy.

This is why he wasn't afraid to see another null sector robot, more specifically a Nulltrooper. He had acquainted himself with the different models during each run-in with a troop. This is why he was intrigued to see one alone, and it didn't seem to be of any threat to him. But still, Hanzo held his bow firm and his body ready if a fight were to break out.

Once he ensured the being was of no threat, he asked it yes or no questions. Figuring out its true motives, it was aware and wanting to be free of the jobs it was forced to do. Hanzo, out if all people understood the feeling. Either out of pity or just simple respect for the Nulltrooper, he would offer it the chance to travel alongside him for a bit.

It was up to the Nulltrooper what it wanted, but he was respectful and surprisingly understanding. Perhaps he was a good ally to have, especially when going against something like the null sector.

Genji:

He was one of Overwatch's fighters. He knew firsthand the null sector and its uprising. He took down countless drones, troopers, and slicers, you name it. Genji was well aware of how they operated, at least how attacks did.

Which is why he was shocked to see a Nulltrooper, alone and.. aware. It acted similar to the omnic Bastion did, and Genji could see intelligence behind its actions. This is why he only held onto his blade, not fully drawing it.

He knew the Nulltrooper before him was more than it seemed. Genji, in fact, prided himself on his understanding of omnics having Zenyattta as a teacher and his body being mostly machine. This is why he started talking, learning its awareness and need to uprise. A goal he could agree with, sure getting the information was a lot of yes and no questions. Some charades and whatnot, but he saw the value in a robot like this before him.

Genji offers the Nulltrooper the opportunity to join Overwatch, both sharing the goal of shutting down Ramattra and his revolution against humanity. But it relies on them to work together.

Cole:

Now, Cole Cassidy often seemed to not particularly care about the major fights. He was more of a solo man who just so happened to be associated with Overwatch. At least, that's what he thought. Cassidy, under the guide of Overwatch he has seen the Null Sector, the threat it caused, and what they are. He knew what robots did what, how to counter them, and so on.

As he walked down the alleyway behind old buildings, humming some country song and smoking his cigar, he was taken off guard by the sight of a Nulltrooper. It was alone, but that didn't make him any less on edge.

He gripped his hand around the big iron on his hip, ready for a fight. But was shocked to see the robot lift its hands, as if it didn't want to fight. Odd, Cole decided to hear it out. He was surprised to learn it was aware, like the other Omnics he interacted with on occasion. Cassidy knew this was a sight to behold, especially from a trooper he just accepted as being one of the least intelligent robots.

Now Cole knew he wasn't the one to make any major decisions. But he did know people who could. He had his connections. Having a Nulltrooper on Overwatch's side certainly didn't sound bad, and if it was up to him to get this trooper to the place it needed to be, that's something he was willing to do.

D.V.A:

Hana Song was intelligent. She fought for the safety of Korea and the world. Her mech was a piece of powerful art that made fighting possible. It gave her the ability to do something, to make a change, and to fight for what she believed in. Her and the other mech drivers shared this belief.

She took down her fair share of null sector robots when harm was a possibility. She had gotten a good look at their machinery, and she had a good idea of their coding. Alarm bells struck her when seeing the lone Nulltrooper. It was different.. too different from any robot from the null sector she'd seen.

Readying her bot for a fight D.V.A. was amazed to see it beg for mercy. Through a jarble of frantic beeps, she took pity on it, wanting to know the reason for its distress.

After a while of figuring it out, she learned of its wishes to rise against the null sector itself. Hana saw herself somehow, fighting for what was right even in the eyes of danger. D.V.A. wanted to help, shoe she would offer to get the robot some connections to people who were fighting the same war.

Who knows, maybe she might find it some upgrades for proper speak if she liked the trooper enough.

Tracer:

Along with Genji, Tracer was more invested with all the happenings with the null sector. But Tracer had a different approach. She grew to deeply care about the omnics under King's Row and having one of her close friends being an omnic. Lena knew the different perspectives, and she truly wanted the best for all those involved.

Which is why she didn't immediately reach for her duel guns. The robot in front of her seemed to be.. alone. And she couldn't help but feel sorry for it. Perhaps a soft approach would be best. And besides, if something were to happen, she could rewind time and make use of her machinery.

But Tracer was right on that hunch. The Nulltrooper was, in fact, passive. Lena knew the ways of understanding Bastion, well at least kind of. So after some yes no questions, some charades and maybe a drawing or two she figured it out.

The Nulltrooper was in the same fight she was. It was aware and wanted change. And Lena couldn't help but admire that. In fact, it reminded her of King's Row and her role in that. And Tracer just loves to tell stories, so of course she just had to ramble on about the uprising and what Overwatch's plan was.

Regardless of what the Nulltrooper wanted, all it could do is beep and boop as a response. After a while, she pauses. Thinking over her words.

"Sorry bout that love, I get carried away. Say, how would you want to join me? Overwatch is full of great people, and I just know Winston would be happy having a new addition to Overwatch?"

She's so sincere, and after all the ramblings about Overwatch, the offer seems tempting to the Nulltrooper. But it's up to the robot to decide if it joins Overwatch, regardless of what it decides. Lena will always be a friend.

[str4ngr]

So don't know if you do school au's or not but this is for your 800 followers prompt board.May ask this with other fandoms

Fluff 2. bully x nerd

headcanon or ramble of your thoughts whatever works for you

But if it could be with the twist of the reader being the bully. More of the smart, manipulative, sit back and watch "If I have other people to do my dirty work, why get my hands dirty myself?(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧" Type. Y'know

Maybe runs a delinquent gang korac (korack?spelling's hard) or 141. ¯⁠\⁠(⁠°⁠_⁠o⁠)⁠/⁠¯ idk feel free to take and leave what you want.

Character ideas:

Teacher's pet/nerd!Kyle who reader "asks"orders to let them see there notes after class behind the school "I wanna see how the top of the class organized all that info into one sheet of paper🥺", only too burn it in front of him with a lighter. later rubbing it in once the next test scores come through with a disappointing look from mr.price and a 67 return grade.

Dumb jock!Johnny who reader calls "soap" because he needs a bath.

Quiet kid!Simon that is as important as a ghost in the day time, Aka not.(To reader at least)

Pushover!könig that reader makes do all their heavy lifting bc "I'm the brain an your the bron, you'd be nowhere without me🤭"

History teacher!Mr.Price that can't prove that it's reader that is pulling the strings behind that sweet model student mask they put on.

I just need more mean reader 😭. Maybe reader find it amusing that someone like them is able to be picked on and that's why they bully them.

Have a lovely rest of your day

your majesty.

t.f.141 & könig. | my drug, my addiction.

cw: suggestive[?], obsession, foul language, age difference, mentions of bullying/hazing, college au, gn! reader. wc: 812. notes: kind of not x reader, idk. this is longgggg. also idk how to resolve this so it's like lowkey mid-story type shit. not proofread.

being the ball and staff holder of your little college was real fun. no body here really cared for your classes or your degrees, besides, going to those parties with too much alcohol and only one drinker, circulating those bloody-face pictures, and sending dares through burners, was far, far, more worth while.

professor price

obvi gonna make this a college au

i think his first instinct would to go after your underlings/ the physical perpetrators.

he wouldnt be able to catch them without evidence, but he would keep a close eye.

he observes them during any class he lectures of can sneak into but doesnt notice a direct connection between the victims and the bullies. many were in different classes, majors, floors, buildings, but there was always someone.

you.

attractive, intelligent, and charismatic, the idea of you being associated with this vicious bullying left a bitter stain on his tongue. but price couldnt deny it. you were always there. never missed a day of class, never missed a beat in taking your usual seat in the lecture hall of neither the front not back.

price goes home that day with a tug of war on his mind. he wasnt sure what to do. he could say, yes, you were there, but you werent when kyle was dragged to the back hallway.

he became almost obsessed, enthralled by the idea of, maybe, just maybe. it was a hard game.

you grinned to yourself as you stared at the newly "earned" money in your hands. you grinned knowing 'your' top grades were yours. you grinned because someone noticed, and now it was all the more fun. it was a long, long stretch. a bloody dance of two double-edged swords fighting for a purpose of neither justice or protection. truly just the adrenaline.

kiss-ass kyle.

kyle was almost helpless at the sidelines, chased down, mocked, and cheated.

"kyle, your grades have been falling, is there anything you want to talk about?"

you grinned when you heard prices voice from behind the ajar door, where he and kyle stood, revising kyle's most recent test scores.

top of class to barely passing?

price couldn't believe it. it was out of character for one of his best students to be spiraling down so rapidly.

"no, i'll do better."

he didn't.

you're staring at the way prices lips twitch into a frown, eyes flat as he hands kyle his paper. upside down.

lacky könig & toy johnny.

when könig first transferred to your college, it was awkward. how does someone with such a thick accent integrate to the cliquiest college? how but then such a sweet, beautiful, top student greet him, welcomes him with open arms

he was a lost puppy, following you without a leash, hearts in his eyes as he grabs another annoying rugby player.

your silky voice ringing in his ear,

"koko? do me a favor, make sure that soap kid doesn't come near me again?"

he didn't even need you to negotiate, he nodded, heavy stature shoving poor johnny against the brick wall of a far away storage building.

könig's imaginary tail wags behind him as he showed you a photo of beaten and pulped johnny,

"told him to never even look at you again!" his gruff voice would mutter, eyes brightening as you whisper,

"good boy."

johnny really became a toy after that. clueless and submissive to your insults as you berate him after each gym class, rolling oyur eyes in objective disgust while looking him up and down,

"sad the only clean part about you is the fact i call you 'soap', now fuck off, you're making it hard to breathe."

silent simon.

why bother with him.

simon was quiet, always.

so to you, he was really nothing more than a stick on the road that you had to run over.

and snap.

of course, it was easy. he didn't whine, hiss, growl. i imagine that he was lanky, tall, but skinny. and of course, when you see such an easy target, who are you not to take it?

you decided having könig be the one to break him wouldn't be any fun, but watching as the guy who already struggled with having any social life slowly get pushed farther and father into isolation?

now that was fun.

first you took his dumb himbo friend johnny, who was beat to a pulp, and told it was all simons fault.

dumb dog never spoke to him, and how fun it was to watch simon stare from afar as one of his only friends left him to eat lunch by himself.

next was kyle, who was kind enough to help simon with their history class.

"Kyle, keep talking to that hoodie kid, and i'll make sure the only thing that's ruined isn't just your grades."

You smile as kyle urgently responds to the texts in desperate pleas and promises to never speak to him. He didn't know it was you, but he did know you would follow through with your words.

notes: ughhh i hope i did this rq properly especially because i took so long on itt. sorry for taking so long, i was kind of struggling with how to portray each character in a cohesive setting.

[sonboyadam]

Adam's birthday fic rec palooza!

hi! i didn't do anything for the Adam's birthday bc adulthood, but here's a short list of some adam centric fics that i've loved and bookmarked along the years. I chose oneshots for this, maybe i'll do another fic rec in another time. I'm doing this at work so let me know if the links are wonkyyy

things fall apart, the centre cannot hold by basicallymonsters

Adam's perspective throughout Mister Impossible, as his worry reaches a fever pitch, and the two versions of himself begin to converge.

I love everything this author has ever written, and this is my beloved forever, this adam pov is canon for me. It's angst and sad and so good

don't want no other shade of blue but you by the lace

It didn’t help his mood that they seemed to be taking all their cues straight from a bad how to help a friend who’s going through a breakup wikiHow article; breakup playlists he wouldn’t listen to, invitations to movie nights he hadn’t taken them up on, a bottle of Prosecco he had given to a girl who lived down the hall from him… And now they had decided to try setting him up on dates, apparently.

This oooone, im obssesed. adam tries to date after ronan ghosts him but at the end he's still a water sign you know

Mile Markers by escribo

All Adam needs is one signature on his application to Aglionby. That should be pretty simple, right?

Lovelove precanon fics, this is ppl telling adam no, and him going watch me💕

Wringing Out the Hours by quietcoast

Adam leaves for college, and realizes he has no idea what comes next.

Adam figuring it out what he wants!! this was posted very early post trk and before tdt even was a thing, but I love going back to this fics and see everyone's interpretation of how adam deals with the Future tm

Hold on by momebie (katilara)

(The one where Adam gets a tattoo and there's a lot of dialogue and feelings and dialogue about feelings.)

I think this one doesn't need more explanation, he gets a tattoo!!! Read it!! It's soft and he's free and he gets a tattoo!!

suppose you're in a meadow by deathlessaphrodite

Adam’s first love was a dirtbag fry cook working at the Waffle Inn on the outskirts of Henrietta, where Adam had journeyed every other night, on his bike, the summer he turned seventeen.

Like I said i looove precanon fics, this one is baby bi adam backstory, enough said

being witnessed in the act of wanting something by deathlessaphrodite

'Guilty' is such a childish word, Adam thinks; he associates it more with the church than the law, now.

Ok this one is sad too but I still love it very much, missing scenes are also one of my favorite fandom tropes:^)

And finally, finishing with some good tumblr drabbles💕

This drabble of adam buying flowers for ronan 💕

This drabble of adam making out with aglionby boys hehe

[brandileigh2003]

[#FFF255 prompt In the Heart] @flashfictionfridayofficial

CW: major character death, hospitals

Ship: remus lupin/sirius black

Words: 996

Feel free to give kudos on AO3 if you want ❤️❤️

“Sirius?” Remus croaked.

“Remus? Are really awake this time?” Sirius asked, pressing the button for the mediwitch. He glanced up at the spell displaying Remus' heart rate and grimaced. He didn't like what he saw.

“Yeah, think so. What's happening?” Remus said, attempting to sit-up but failing.

“Remus, they discovered what's wrong. There's a hole…” Sirius blinked back tears, trying to compose himself. “It's in the heart.”

He'd had nearly three weeks to try to process this. Three weeks in mungos after that horrible full moon. Moony had barely howled, the only time he’d gotten up was to sniff Padfoot and nudge him to curl up together. After the change back, Sirius thought he would lose Remus. Never get to see his beautiful eyes again, never get to hear his voice again or tell him he loves him. But he got his heart started and to the hospital, lips blue and face pale. Then he'd not fully woken up until today.

“Don't cry, cariad. Come here,” Remus said, patting the bed.

Sirius gingerly sat down and buried his face in his neck. He wasn't sure how long he cried. He knew that the mediwitch and healer both came in; he could feel the vibrations of Remus talking to them but he had no idea what was said.

Eventually, the world slowly started to come back into focus. He felt Remus playing with his hair, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. The very heart that was going to take his husband from him in all likelihood within the next seven days.

“We were supposed to have more time,” Sirius said when he finally sat up.

“Sirius, my love, we've had more time than we ever imagined,” Remus said.

And while that was true, it really didn't make any of this any better. They were 63, and the average lifespan for those with lycanthropy was about 45, and that number was lower for those bitten as children. And they had made the most of their time. They discovered the horcruxes through kreature, forced Dumbledore to give over what he knew, and worked through a way to deal with the one inside of Harry. Harry had helped clear Sirius’ name and they settled in a cottage in the countryside, a room set up for Harry. They'd gotten married, traveled, worked to make wolfsbane accessible and advocated for changes in the laws associated with lycanthropy.

And this wasn't a surprise, not really. Remus was wheelchair bound, he had potions for multiple organs that just couldn't keep up with the years of transformations. Moony had grown weaker right along with Remus and it was heartbreaking to see.

Remus had given up pieces of himself, his pride and independence. They'd had fights about Remus wanting Sirius to be able to have more time to himself, instead of constantly have to take care of Remus. Sirius was happy to do it but after lots of therapy and learning to communicate and compromise, they had hired someone to come in and help with the house and with Remus’ medical care. Sirius had a hard time giving over that control, but it gave Remus peace of mind.

“Sirius? Can we go home? I don't want my last days to be here,” Remus asked later that evening. Sirius had been reading to him, something that they often did, and he dropped the book.

It felt like ice had flooded his veins and then stabbed him right in his heart. Maybe they were connected now? If Remus’ stops, so will his? He almost wished that it would, but he thought of Harry and their family, and knew that no matter how much it would hurt, he couldn't truly hope for it. Although how he would go on without the man who was his other half, he had no idea.

“Yeah, Moony. Let's wait until tomorrow okay?” Sirius knew that the healer who would be on in the morning would be kind, and give Remus whatever he might need instead of being prejudiced and sending them on their way with nothing. Sirius could get them what they needed, he would do anything for Remus, but it was easier with the hospital’s help.

Sirius didn't sleep that night, watching over Remus, and he barely did the next 6 days either. Remus was much more comfortable at home, and people were in and out visiting all of the time. Everyone knew what was happening, and they had tearful conversations of course, but they tried to keep it upbeat.

Remus got weaker but he seemed at peace. He slept more and more until the morning of the full moon, when he actually was able to get up by himself and the blueish tint from his lips, fingers and toes had disappeared. Sirius hoped so much for a miracle but it was also a known thing that could happen to those who are dying. A sudden burst of energy which unfortunately usually didn't last very long. Remus danced with Sirius to their wedding song, knowing Sirius loved to dance but Remus was horrible. After that it was late afternoon and Remus convinced Sirius that he wanted to make love. Sirius was nervous, he didn't want to do anything to stress his heart, but he also knew it was a matter of time, and he wanted to give Remus everything he could ask for.

After, they lay together until it was time to go to their safe room. Remus wasn't able to take the wolfsbane this time around and they were both a little sad about it. But it turned out it wasn't needed, because minutes before moonrise, Remus looked into his eyes and said: “I'll see you in our next lifetime okay? I love you.”

Before Sirius could respond, Remus went slack in his arms and for the first time since he was four, stayed human beneath a full moon.

[darsynia]

Don't Read the Last Page (Tony Stark/Engineer!Reader multichapter)

Summary: Your friend Nat claims her plan to distract Tony Stark with her sex appeal isn't working, so she wants you to do it with your brain--and a sexy red dress. Things start out completely over your head and get more complicated when SHIELD becomes involved.

Length/Warnings: 3,500 | none (future smut!)

Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Next

Excerpt:

“Put on a persona, if you have to. The one I chose, okay, yes, sex kitten, but-- and don’t laugh,” Nat sighs. “I’ve been playing it so straight, Cat. I thought sure he’d break, but it’s almost like he can tell that I know it’s innuendo? And by now it’s a game of chicken, and the man is too stubborn to lose. He’ll never back down.”

You can’t help the little smile of pride in the idea that the man you’ve been crushing on for so long can hold up against an onslaught like that, even though you haven’t ever met Tony Stark. Natasha is painfully gorgeous.

“So, what? You need me to be the Cat to your kitten?” you tease.

“Actually, yes.”

Chapter One: Alice In Wonderland

“Nat, you cannot be serious,” you say, holding your cell phone to your ear with your shoulder as you frown at the computer screen in front of you. The water temperature calculations in the unit you’re designing are all wrong, and you’d hoped to finish the associated code by tonight.

“You said you’d freelance for me, and I need you. Believe me, I’m as surprised as you are.” Natasha’s voice is every bit as dry as it always is, but today there’s a strong undercurrent of irritation that you hardly ever hear. “I can tell he’s interested, but I actually think the sex kitten thing is somehow overboard. I don’t think he’s going to go for me, but I can read him like a book. He definitely wants a connection, and I can’t risk him ending up with someone else. Bottom line: I need you.”

“I can’t believe you’re using drunken confidences against me right now! I have shit to do!” You were whining a little, but when your friend had joked that she might someday ask you to do some favors for the shadowy governmental agency she works for, you thought it was going to be related to computers, not the billionaire tech genius you’ve secretly crushed on for years.

“I think the hard to get thing might really work. Look, what we need is a sexy delaying tactic. You’re not going to have to sleep with him. You just need to catch his eye and keep him from doing anything really stupid with a woman at this birthday party. He’s feeling his mortality, Cat. We don’t want him to FIND it.”

“I still can’t believe that you, Miss Manipulation, have failed at doing it yourself,” you tease, saving your work and standing up.

“I overcompensated. It would have worked with the man in the file, but he’s not that guy anymore. Can I pick you up at 7?”

You pause in the act of shutting the light off in your office. “Woah, hold on. That was ‘wrapping up the conversation’ language. I have no idea what to wear, how to behave, where--”

“Shy sexy engineer, shy sexy engineer, Tony Stark’s Malibu mansion. I’ll pick you up.”

“Nat!” you protest, but the line has gone dead. The mirror you’ve hung on the other side of the reception desk helpfully reminds you that you’ll need to wear some extra concealer under your eyes, tonight. You’ve been pulling some late nights with this project. Productive ones, sure, but late. 

The concept is one of the most ambitious that your small design firm has taken on so far, but you’re passionate about it. The group of investors’ idea was simple: create a kiosk that can help eliminate the waste of single-use water bottles on college campuses. Students sign up and receive a BPA-free reusable water bottle that fits into any of the multiple stations placed around the campus, based on population and traffic patterns. In exchange for watching a few ads for a minute, their bottle is sanitized and filled with clean, cold, purified water for free. Companies can buy the ad space, and hopefully, if the project takes off, all that will be needed is the initial capital and a few fees for maintenance and water, paid for by the college itself. 

In theory, your small company made up of five friends with various engineering degrees definitely has the expertise to bring the concept into reality. In practice, it’s a lot bigger of a project than you had initially thought, especially now that a few schools in the area have been contacted by the investors to see if they’d be interested in being the pilot school. 

It’s far more coding than you’d anticipated, for one thing, and you’re the only one with the expertise to write it. You’ve got to finish this up, commit it, and then see if it actually works on the prototype in the back room, ideally before noon tomorrow. In a very real way, it’s your reputation, your name on the line if the company can’t deliver, for all that you’re not the face of the company. You’ve got Alan for that part. The stress has been bad enough that you stopped going by your business name in public completely, reverting back to the fanciful name you’d given yourself when you daydreamed about having a secret royal history.

You’ve shortened it to ‘Cat’ nowadays, since you’re not royal, though you are secretive. 

Even though you’re not really one for parties, you are curious about what a Stark party would be like. He’s ramped back his playboy lifestyle since miraculously returning from three months in that cave. Not all the way, though, you recall, because there was something in Monaco not that long ago, but you weren’t interested in Stark for that stuff anyway. You crush on his brain, really, though the rest of the package isn’t tough on the eyes.

If you’re honest, you’d been kind of glad that he’d gotten more serious and less reckless lately, so hearing Nat talk about him ‘feeling his mortality’ makes you worried, in a strange way. Ever since you were in high school, coming up on ten years ago, he’s been your celebrity crush, the person you kept an eye on, looked for references in all the magazines. You’re not really a celebrity watcher, but for the most part, Stark is different from an actor or sports guy. In your opinion, for a man with such innovative intelligence, his playboy lifestyle is as much of a waste of his talents as designing weapons. He’s done with the latter, but seems to be having trouble dropping the former.

Checking your watch, you sigh. It’s already five, and you need a shower. As you turn toward the stairs that lead up to the door to your apartment, you catch another glimpse of yourself in the mirror. God, you need a haircut.

“The only thing Tony Stark is going to do when he sees you is wonder who let in the mousy wallflower,” you groan. You never were a flashy, ‘draw all eyes when you walk in the door’ kind of girl, even though you do have a flair for picking clothes that accentuate your build. Still, the mirror is telling some home truths that you don’t appreciate right now, so you flip it off, holding your hand in that position as you walk up the stairs and tap out your code for the door.

An hour and a half later, and you’re in a push-up bra, matching panties, and a complete freak-out spiral. You have three dresses to choose from, and none of them are right, and you don’t have time to do anything else than pick one. You’re about to do the thing where you hang them in three different places in your room and spin around with your eyes shut till you stop with your finger pointed out, when you hear the front door opening.

It can only be one person, but you still grab your oversized white bathrobe and pull it on before you call out to her.

“Help, I am a damsel in serious distress. De-stress me, Natasha!”

“You need more friends if I’m who you would turn to for that,” Natasha says. She’s wearing a tight gray dress that, while stunning, doesn’t look like a party frock at all.

“Wait, is there a party? Because that is NOT what you of all people would wear to one. This is not a ‘you’ party dress. Particularly not if you’re… what did you call it? Trying to ‘sex kitten’ Tony Stark!” you protest, crossing your arms against the thick terry cloth of your robe.

“Settle,” Natasha says, but her lips curl up into a kind of a secret smile. “The party’s later, and I have to go in early. My boss wanted to talk to you a little bit beforehand.”

You back up and fall back onto your bed. “No, no, no, you’ve told me about your boss. He’s badass and terrifying.” Your tone turns whiny, then resolute. “I have stuff to do, Nat! I am reneging, right here, right now.”

Even as you say the words, your inner fangirl screams at you. No way do you want to miss the chance to be in the same room as Tony Stark, even if it means you have to withstand being glared at by Nat’s one-eyed scary spy boss.

“No, you’re not. Because I need you, and you will never forgive yourself.” Natasha is, as always, completely self-assured in the face of your frantic protestations. You’ll never forget the crazy way the two of you met, when she’d ducked into your store and frowned, confused, when she’d seen the empty racks for what had used to be a clothing store. After taking in her tight pleather fighting outfit, you’d thought fast, taking off your white hooded sweatshirt and tossing it to her. Natasha had put it on right away and you’d sat on the receptionist’s desk you were setting up, pulling open a folder and leaning over as if to present a proposal to a person sitting at the desk. She’d vaulted over the desk in a truly spectacular move, seating herself and zipping up the sweatshirt just in time.

The door had opened seconds later, revealing a tall, burly, terrifying-looking man in tradesmen’s clothing. “We’re closed!” you’d called out, and he’d grunted, looking around a few seconds before leaving.

“What about this one?” Nat says, from deep inside your closet. She emerges with a red dress that you’d bought once on a deep discount and then hidden in the closet, too embarrassed to picture yourself ever actually wearing it in public. It’s skin-tight, and the neckline/straps make up a bold X that crosses your chest in a brighter red than the rest of the fabric. Under the X is a second stylized X that stretches up to make a diamond gap between the two. The cut-out gives a daring glimpse of the lower curves of your breasts before the second X continues down to hug your hips. The damned thing continues its ‘high fashion’ nonsense in an angled cut just below your knees, except for where it slices up into a slit on your left leg, making a third, smaller X.

“I can’t wear a bra with that, Nat!” you hiss, even as you take the hanger and look at it. “Not to mention the fact that it’s literally a triple-X dress!”

“Just tell your inner self you’re living the dream?”

“I can’t believe I ever told you about having a crush on him. You know I’ll never trust you with anything ever again?” you gripe.

“Put on the dress, I don’t want to be late.”

It’s Stark’s favorite color, and actually fits perfectly. After you touch up your makeup to make it a bit more aggressive, with red lipstick that matches the dress (the one concession you’d made to someday choosing to wear it. The color’s been taunting you in your makeup bag since you’d come home with the damned thing), you’re actually feeling like a confident, capable person.

“That’s right,” Natasha says, coming up behind you and making eye contact with you in the mirror. “Put on a persona, if you have to. The one I chose, okay, yes, sex kitten, but-- and don’t laugh,” she sighs. “I’ve been playing it so straight, Cat. I thought sure he’d break, but it’s almost like he can tell that I know it’s innuendo? And by now it’s a game of chicken, and the man is too stubborn to lose. He’ll never back down.”

You can’t help the little smile of pride in the idea that the man you’ve been crushing on for so long can hold up against an onslaught like that, even though you haven’t ever met Tony Stark. Natasha is painfully gorgeous.

“So, what? You need me to be the Cat to your kitten?” you tease.

“Actually, yes.”

“Okay, I’ll wear this, but I’m not comfortable with the message the top… everything this dress is sending, so...” you say, and head over to the closet. On the way, you notice how you’re walking with more sway to your hips, like you can’t help yourself. You definitely feel like someone else, someone more bold, maybe? It’ll crumble completely if you were faced with the man himself, not that you probably will. Even with your assets on display like this, you’re still you, shy but tenacious, a ‘watch and learn’ kind of girl. Basically the opposite of his type. After years of spending time with every kind of woman, all of whom are begging for his attention, Stark will probably look past you like you’re not even there.

In the closet you find the long rectangular gold scarf/shawl your aunt had given you for Christmas what feels like fifty years ago. It’s still new in its rolled up package, and when you pull it out, you realize that its crinkled texture hides the folds perfectly. With the shawl wrapped around your shoulders in just the right way, the dress doesn’t look anywhere near as indecent as it did without. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time as you slip on your shoes, and the whole ‘sexy dress, demure shawl’ thing almost seems like a metaphor for the ‘hidden depths’ your family always joked that you have.

They wouldn’t appreciate these particular ‘depths,’ though. The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you look very different from your normal self. If everything crashes and burns, you can just pretend it wasn’t you, right?

“Okay, I’m convinced. Give him one glimpse of what’s under there and he’ll definitely be distracted,” Natasha says with a smirk.

“I bet he won’t even look in my direction,” you tell her as the two of you walk down the stairs and onto the store floor. It is, of course, devoid of the clothes racks that had been there when Natasha had barged into her accidentally unlocked door, that day. Now, eighteen months later, there’s hardly any customer-facing space at all, with double-high cube shelving separating the small lobby area from her colleagues’ workspaces. It’s cozy, but your company does decent business, and you’re proud of how far it’s come since then.

“I’ll take that bet,” Natasha says, pushing the door open with her ass and smiling a secret, knowing smile. “If he talks to you within the first half hour, you owe me my favorite take-out.” 

The place in question is basically impossible to park at, meaning if you lose, you’ll have to park fifteen minutes away to pick up the food. However, you picture the kinds of parties you’ve seen in magazines, with beautiful people all crammed together in a darkened room, and can’t help but feel confident. You don’t have the money, the attitude, or the clout to draw the attention of someone like Tony Stark.

“You’re on.”

When you get to a nondescript office building and park, Nat assures you that there’ll be a car coming to pick you up and waves you into the building. Once you’re inside, you see a man standing with his back to you, his long black trench coat doing all the work for him. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Catriona,” he says, still faced away. “Or should I call you Cat?”

“Feeling more like the mouse today,” you say, disconcerted that he knows your 'secret identity.'

“Don’t worry, you’re not prey. Not for me, anyway. Natasha tells me you were up to do her a favor,” he says, finally turning. He’s wearing an actual eye patch, and the front of him is every bit as badass-intimidating as the back of his black boots and coat had implied.

“You know technically, she owes me,” you point out. “And, is this a safe house? Wait-- don’t tell me anything top secret. I like my life. I don’t want to be in the witness protection program.”

You’re babbling, which is the other side of your extreme lock-up, ‘freeze and hope no one notices you’ coping mechanism.

“Nothing we’re asking you to do is at witness protection level. Just be beautiful, enigmatic, and smart.”

You can feel a blush rising on your face. “Uh, maybe I have the wrong building?”

“You think I’d let you in here if I didn’t know everything there is to know about you?”

Your stomach drops. “Can we start over? We can do the introduction part, and then I can find the floor I’m actually supposed to be on, and we can forget this ever--”

“Cat…” the man says, adding more gravitas to the name than you have in the decade-plus you’ve used it. “--did you know for the first few months, I thought you were an actual feline? You’ve been good for Natasha. Grounded her in the real world. She made me promise not to scare the shit out of you, and I think I’ve failed,” the man says. “My name is Nick Fury. I run an organization called SHIELD. We’ve had our eye on Stark for a while, mostly because we’d like to make sure he doesn’t implode and take half of the security of the country with him. We’re coming up on a delicate time, and I need to know I can count on you.”

You are starting to feel a little woozy. Fury can tell, you think, because he walks over, passes you to head into an alcove by the door, and comes out with a small chair. Even though you’re standing in what amounts to a darkened lobby, he places it right in the middle and gestures. You sit, because the alternative is to try to run out of here in heels, and if you did that, Natasha would make fun of you until the end of time. It’s really unfair of her, honestly.

“The bottom line, young lady, is that Stark’s a ladies' man, but his tastes are changing. Time was, he would have gone all in on someone like the character Natasha’s currently playing, but now, who knows?” Fury sighs. “Making his PA the CEO was actually one of the most brilliant ideas the man’s had since Afghanistan. But not if they’re going to be involved. That was what Natasha was supposed to deflect him from.”

“Wait,” you say, straightening up in the chair. “I’m just going to a party. I get to look pretty and be ignored by my celebrity crush. That’s it.” You’re shaking. Everything has escalated far more quickly than you ever could have expected, and you don’t even think taxis know about the building you’re currently freaking out in. You feel trapped, even though your faith in Natasha is strong enough that you don’t feel in any physical danger.

“Of course,” Fury says expansively. “I’m just letting you know what’s at stake.”

He’s trying to use your innate sense of responsibility to influence you, and while you’re offended, you’re also kind of impressed.

“I see why you’re the boss, anyway,” you mutter. Then, louder, you add, “But you’re not my boss. I’m self-employed. And not in the ‘boss babe’ kind of way.”

“I can respect that,” Fury says. He spins around to start pacing, heading away from you, before turning around and coming halfway back to stop and look at you. “I am not asking you to do anything you wouldn’t already feel comfortable doing.”

“That is such a line,” you blurt out, twisting your hands in your lap. “What if I tell you I’m not comfortable holding this conversation, or knowing the things you’ve already told me?”

“That is manifestly obvious. It’s also what makes you perfect for the thing I’m asking you to do.”

“What are you asking me to do?” you demand, the words coming out in a choked gasp. You’re so out of your element you can barely breathe, and the worst part is, Fury’s instincts are spot on. You feel a sense of responsibility, not just to Natasha, but to Stark. He's the sort of person who shows up in the news as often for a dazzling tech breakthrough as for a catastrophic break-up... or a kidnapping.

“Be yourself. In the process, give Tony Stark someone intriguing to focus on. Someone who isn’t his CEO. Think of it as helping him diversify.”

“If I called you a pimp right now, would you throw me out?” you ask, standing up and squaring your shoulders. You’ve always lashed out when cornered.

Fury laughs. “Stop trying to chew off your own leg and learn to adapt to the shackle. For all we know, this could just be for tonight.”

Until that moment, it hadn’t even occurred to you that it wouldn’t just be for tonight. You watch as Nick Fury casually checks his watch.

“Guests are starting to arrive. I’ve ordered a driver for you. The make and model of the car along with your attire should be enough to get you admitted, and if not, Agent Romanoff will. It’s been a pleasure.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours for the first time that night, and when you take it, your own is shaking.

“Chill. It’s not an assassination,” Fury tells you, squeezing your hand before letting go.

“Like you’d tell me it was at Employee Orientation anyway,” you grumble.

His laughter follows you out the door, where you find a sleek black car that’s probably worth just about as much as your salary for a year.

“Out of the frying pan and down the rabbit hole, I guess,” you sigh, opening the door and climbing inside.

To be continued...

Cat is kind of egged on out of her comfort zone in this chapter, thanks to Natasha's influence and her sense of duty-- but she can't keep up that intensity forever!

[neutrallibrarian]

Ribcage Cold And Empty (I Need Your Heart Next To Mine)

Written for @madatobiweek 2024 Day 7: Free Day

Fandom: Naruto

Chapter 1 of ?

Word Count: 548

People are born with the ability to draw their hearts from their chests and, if they so wish, exchange them with each other. To give another your heart has always meant a profound depth of love, even if it's just pieces of it given away.

When Madara is given a peace gift from Tobirama, it sets him on a path to rediscovering what it means to give someone your heart.

"Do with it as you please."

With that, Tobirama turns on his heel and strides out of the office without another word. Madara stares at the spot in space he occupied for perhaps fifteen seconds at most, speechless. Then, mechanically, he tips his head down to look at the object Tobirama placed on his desk.

An inro with matching netsuke of exquisite craftsmanship. It depicts a lone koi, pure white with ruby red spots, in a tranquil koi pond. The netsuke is of a dragon, pure white jade with ruby inlay for the red eyes and stripes on its body, coiled around a genuine pearl, soft milk white glistening iridescent. Even the ojime bead is pearl and the cord is braided silk. Defining lines in the pattern on the inro made with maki-e sparkle silver, the thin keshifun lines outlining the intricate details whitish and dull from years of handling contrasting the bright and flashy blue marufun of the pond water. Near the top of the container is a torii gate in gold radan, a beacon to which the little koi is facing from the lip of the pond, heedless of the enamel trees separating pond and gate.

“Oh, that bastard,” he hisses through his teeth, feeling a headache coming on.

It’s been three months since the village was named. Three months after that meeting with Hashirama on the mountain where he and Tobirama came face to face for the first time outside of the initial negotiations. Three months since Hashirama got it into his head to try to get his best friend and little brother to be less antagonistic toward each other.

It’s wonderful to know he wasn’t the one to break first under Hashirama’s well-meaning meddling, and so quickly at that. But irritating now that a peace offering has been given he has to reciprocate in kind or face Hashirama’s suffocating disappointment.

Madara scowls down at the inro, rubbing his sternum. Thinking of Hashirama disappointed reminds him too much of that final battle before his downward spiral, the look on Hashirama’s face when Madara reached for the smoke bombs instead of ignoring the furiously beating heart next to his, the demands to not trust him from Izu—

Madara sets his ink brush down with an aggravated sigh and gulps down his tea, reheated almost to boiling with a liberal application of chakra. Thinking of him just reminds him how cold and empty his chest has become, accustomed to two fire-natured hearts beating within, and how his lone heart freezes over from the absence of his brother's. To distract himself from it, he picks up the inro, turning it this and that way in the light.

It’s pretty, he’ll give Tobirama that. Something that fits his style more than Madara’s, but it’s an acceptable gift. He’s been meaning to get one to hold his identity and clan seals anyway so this is fortunate timing.

He brushes his thumb over the koi, feeling it warmer yet cooler than any other spot on the inro. It must be his imagination associating the koi with Tobirama and tricking him into thinking up the strange temperature difference. He sets it down and picks up the ink brush to go back to work even as his mind spins ideas about reciprocation gifts.

[sorcerous-caress]

I’ve been thoroughly admiring the content of your human kink tag and your ideas about the modern au high elf with a desperate kink for humans meeting an online friend who-surprise!-is human now lives rent free in my brain. I want to edge him until he cries and then give him as many half elves as he wants. I love my men sopping wet and utterly pathetic and this absolute loser is ticking every single one of my boxes.

Especially since he is a high elf. Those people clutch their pearls at even the idea of impurities in their bloodline, they pride themselves on their superiority and how they don't allow humans in their settlements unlike the wood elves.

So for one of them, ending up becoming such a pathetic desperate loser for humans is a golden twist of fate.

His obsession with humans just gets more fueled each day by the fact so many of them are around, why else did he move out of elf settlements and go live in the big city?

When he arrived at first, he was so sure the humans will be chasing him. He was already a very respected and popular bachelor in elf society.

But no, the humans barely pay him any attention, besides the occasional glances at his ears or the incorrect pronunciation of his name. They seem...used to his kind here.

And he slowly spirals into desperation and obsession, because god the humans aren't giving him the attention he thought he deserved. So why not get that attention from the Internet? Human pornagrophy and human streamers were always a guilty pleasure of his even before he moved here.

But instead of these things giving him courage to approach humans, they do the opposite. He can't look at someone with rounded ears and human features without getting semi-hard. Wiring his brain to always associate humans with pleasure, fucking himself each night to thoughts of the whore race and how warming his cock is clearly their only purpose.

It's practically impossible for him to look at humans normally now, no matter how hard he tries. Whenever he makes a human acquaintance, he imagines bending them over or sending them a video of him screaming their name in bed while fucking into his own fist.

So he blocks them immediately out of fear, what if the humans find out and are disgusted with him? What if he is forced to go back to elf society?? He can't risk that, he can't let them even suspect him.

His routine after work is browsing the " xhuman" forums threads, the latest post was a video about a dragonborn double penetrating a human, it was one that had a choke hold on him for the next 3 hours until his legs were shaking.

He always imagines himself as the dominant top ravishing the fragile human in these scenarios, always pretends he can order a human around without stammering, as if he has enough self restraint not to immediately beg the human to let him cum the second they hint at edging him.

Elves don't need to sleep. So after you two become "official" friends, he will be bothering you 24/7. Constantly touching and groping you, marveling at how soft humans are, how squishy and filled their bodies are.

He can't even get off to porn anymore, not since that day you were riding him and decided to spit in his mouth and make him thank you for it. He came with tears in his eyes, babbling incoherently and mixing up elvish and common.

Especially how different he is in public, how hard he tries to keep the imagine of the graceful calm high elf. But only you know the true slut that lurks underneath, the same one that came untouched yesterday just from you playing with his ears, the same one sitting next to you on the public transport right now, pretending he isn't hiding a boner under the bag he keeps on his lap.