#is this time travel or just the boys thinking?

[stealingpotatoes]

heres a crappy venn (??) diagram explaining the dynamics in the tl4j time travel au bc it's easier than trying to write a full plot

[nxuriah]

Bathroom Break

Neighbor!Choso overhears you.

content warnings: MDNI, masturbation, voyeurism, modern AU, neighbors.

pairing: Choso x petite fem!reader

a/n : first time writing smut, pls be nice. I know it's a bit rushed but im ready to move on from this draft thats been sitting here for ages. 😭

You were the nicest, most goody two shoes girl in the building, and everyone knew it. Always saying hi with a bright smile as you exchanged glances, lending a hand whenever you could, bringing over little sweet treats you'd baked, and Choso adored every bit of it. Soon enough, those small morning exchanges turned into letting Choso come over whenever he got lonely, which became quite frequent as he moved in. Since that first day, God graced his doorstep with what– more like whom Yuuji liked to call a “literal Disney princess,” you were the cutest girl he'd ever seen. So, nothing could have prepared him for the events that followed his midnight bathroom break.

Eyes half shut, choso pulled down the toilet lid before lazily reaching for the flush not rendering that muffled sound once but the second time he stilled, actually catching it. He wasn’t sure what that noise was before it grew into little groans.

Now he couldn't care less about what lonely old guy was watching porn, before hearing that soft melody of a voice whimpering out profanities. That same voice he had memorized by now. Oh. That's not porn. He thought because that familiar voice was unmistakable to him by now.

Good morning. She'd call out from behind me. I could hear the smile in the sound of her greeting.

Blood rushed straight to his cock as your soft pants travelled the thin walls. He found it hard to believe that this was the same innocent looking girl who made his days better with her infectious smile. Part of him didn't want to believe it. Choso had always liked you but he would never have even begun to think of you inappropriately much less get aroused by you but when his length strained against his pants which felt tighter by the second. He couldn't stop the images flooding through his mind at your increasing moans.

Fuck– Were you even trying to be quiet? He breathed out softly.

Choso could never imagine you thinking about such lewd things, much less being so careless about it. A sense of guilt flooded him as he begrudgingly loosened his pajama pants, scared that you would somehow know. His trembling hand slowly trailing downwards and wrapping around himself. Just a small rub he thought before finding his thumb tracing shaky circles over his sensitive tip, reluctantly moving down his length. By then his hands moved on their own pumping up and down in a steady rhythm.

He didn't know any better and Yuuji told him when it's like this…he could just ease it himself, so he did. Could you blame him? He was aching down there.

It was hard not coating the bathroom floor immediately after hearing you cry out. He leaned against the wall now fisting his cock, which grew slick in minutes. Only from your sounds..those oh, “so- fucking–thrust pretty- thrust” sounds.

He panted letting out muffled whines himself imagining your sweaty and tired body all spread out under your cute little hands, knuckles deep plunging in your sopping cunt relentlessly as you sobbed out more of those filthy sounds. Choso had never heard a girl like that. Not that he had any experience but even in the things Yuuji showed him he never heard something that made him such a (pretty) mess.

His tip flushed furiously pink as he barely held on. Choso wanted to match each stroke, each thrust to your pornographic cries but the poor inexperienced boy could only last so long, his balls tightening quite soon letting out thick ropes of his cum all over the bathroom wall dripping on to the floor biting into his hand to stop his groan. His knees went weak, imagining you coated in it.

He heard you finish yourself soon after your voice softened down to satisfied coos rather than your earlier pathetic cries. His length twitched still hard, desperate to now actually feel you. Choso had to fist his cock a few more times that night before he was able to fall asleep.

Sleep wasn't great, though, as the shame took over him. Although he wanted nothing more than to see you now, how could he possibly face you tomorrow morning?

...Part 2??

[niresenrab]

The 141 after retirement (Soap lives AU)

Price realized 37 years in that he's been all over the world, but he hasn't actually seen much of it. He wants to travel the world. Go hiking in the mountains just to enjoy the view without being shot at. Go to a cafe and savor his coffee without scouting out a target. Look out during a flight just to enjoy the sight of the clouds below him without thinking about RPGs. He wants to curl up in bed with Nikolai and just enjoy his company without a transaction. He decides to take his big Russian husband to travel the world with him. Price starts a travel blog to keep his boys updated on their trips.

Ghost is struggling to adapt to retirement. He's not used to having free time, always going on missions or training recruits. Something. Anyways, he gets really into sculpting. He already has experience with mask making, and this isn't much different. He'll use any kind of material. Wood? Widdling is basically sculpture. Clay? A bit frail, but he can work with this. Stone? They now have a massive statue in the front lawn. Ghost can also fuck it up with paper mache. He is on pinata duty for forever, and he'll make them of anything. One of Gaz's kids is really into sea bears? He can work with that.

Gaz has three kids, a wife, and a chunky cat that he takes on trips with a backpack. He hosts monthly dinners for the team to catch up. One of his kids called Ghost "Uncle Goose", and now all of the Garrick kids call Ghost "Goose". Farah gets to be the cool aunt that teaches the kids things that she shouldn't be teaching them. Price definitely takes the role of the dad that sits in the armchair and takes loud open mouthed naps during their gatherings. Gaz wonders why he keeps hosting these dinners.

Soap and Ghost got married shortly after Ghost retired. Johnny was not expecting to come home to a house full of new sculptures, but he completely accepted the change. He helped Ghost renovate the guest room into an art studio with his drawing stuff on one side and Ghost's sculpting stuff on another. A few of their pieces even made it into galleries.

Nikolai, obviously, retired the second Price did. He travels with Price regularly, but likes to teach a mechanics class at the local community college in his free time. Of course he shows off his black hawk to the students, but they can only tinker with the cheaper aircrafts (as if any of them cost less than a million). His classes fill up fast and he has the reputation for the cool teacher.

[puck-luck]

patchwork hearts | nico hischier

warnings: unprotected p in v, chatgpt-level swiss german (since google translate doesn’t have swiss german. only regular german. f u google translate), angst i guess (argument), make-up sex, pretty vanilla all in all, oral f!receiving, fingering.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

request: Reader and Nico get into a fight before we leaves for away from away games in the west coast and they make up when he comes back (or while he is away). Request by @hockeygirl1328. thanks queen! sorry it took so long!!

wc: 3,345

The memory of the argument flashes through your mind when Nico’s face appears on your screen. It’s the cuddliest photo you’ve ever taken of him, scruff in full form and hair messy, but that still doesn’t improve your mood. Just before he left for this road trip, you’d gotten into a massive fight about his constant travel. You love Nico, so much, but he’s always gone. It’s your first season together and the adjustment from Summer Nico to Season Nico has been really difficult.

Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t want to miss Nico for another week. He comes home for a few days, then leaves for a few more. The cycle repeats over and over again and there’s not enough time for you and Nico to establish a routine. There’s not enough time for you to even see Nico some days, which is just disheartening. Your boyfriend is basically a half-version of himself and, most of the time, it feels like his only priority in life is hockey. You don’t even rank.

Nico’s words had hurt, even though you know in your heart that he was right. It was just excessive, the way he’d dug his claws into you with only a few words. 

As the phone rings out, you hear the echo of what he said. “You knew what this life was when we got together. I don’t have time for a constant guilt trip every time I leave!”

“I didn’t sign up to be an afterthought,” you’d fought back.

“Not everything is about you, you know,” Nico snapped. “The world doesn’t revolve around you– my world doesn’t revolve around you.”

His eyes had grown immediately wide and his jaw had dropped, like he couldn’t believe he just said that. You couldn’t believe he’d said that. The argument ended immediately– only because there was nothing you could muster up in reply. 

You hadn’t broken up with Nico for the mere statement, although you’ll admit that it crossed your mind. Instead, you’d sat in place as Nico’s many apologies fell on deaf ears. You felt almost catatonic as he’d kenlt down in front of you and tried to gauge your reaction, touching your knee with a gentle nudge. He’d wiped away the tears that leaked from your eyes, even though you’d tried to turn away from his touch. 

You’d slept over that night because you hadn’t felt you were able to move. The shock kept you in place. Nico had tucked you into his bed and relegated himself to the couch. When you woke up and you’d finally felt able to move, ready to face the boy, he was gone. There was a note on the door and a message left on your phone, both of which said roughly the same thing: that Nico was sorry he had to go, but he couldn’t stay. You knew why, of course. It was time for his California roadie. As much as you felt like an afterthought at times, you aren’t unreasonable. You know that he has to travel for his job. 

You’re still hurt, to be fair. No matter how many times Nico apologized after dropping that bomb, it continues to cut at you and pop up in your mind whenever he calls. You’ve answered twice over the duration of the roadie, but the conversations had felt stilted and forced. After the last call, just over a day ago, Nico had asked if he could come over to your apartment and see you when he got back. 

You think that he was calling a moment ago because he made it back to the Prudential Center and would be driving to your place soon. Your palms are a bit sweaty knowing that Nico is on the way. You don’t want to fight with him again and you have a feeling that he doesn’t want to fight either, but you know it’s not resolved.

You take the time before Nico arrives to calm yourself. You get a glass of water, you grab a handful of your favorite snack, and you sit on the couch to watch a bit of TV.

He calls again a few minutes later. This time, you answer.

“Hi, Nico,” you greet, voice quiet.

“Hi, I’m downstairs,” Nico says. “Just wanted to let you know I’m here before I come up.”

“Okay, Nee. I’ll see you soon.” You pull the phone away fom your ear and end the call, standing up to unlock your front door. You return to the couch and when he knocks, you call out to tell him that it’s open.

Nico comes through the door and toes off his shoes. “How was your day?” Nico asks, coming over to the couch to join you. 

“Not bad. I went to work and the gym and then I came home,” you reply. You attempt a smile at Nico when he sits on the couch and circles his fingers around your ankle, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “How was California?”

“I missed you,” Nico says. “It was hard to focus on the games when I was thinking about you. I’m sorry I left after the fight. I wish I hadn’t needed to go. I wanted to stay and make things better.”

The breath leaves your chest in a deep sigh. “It was unfortunate timing.”

“I know,” Nico agrees, nodding. “It gave me a little time to think about what to say to you, which is nice. I know I can’t really make up for what happened last week, but–” Nico takes your hand and grasps it. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t a priority for me. You are. You’re a huge part of my life and I wouldn’t be anywhere without you, supporting me and cheering me on and being there for me every day. I’m sorry I wasn’t more considerate of your feelings.”

You almost want to cry again after hearing him spout this heartfelt apology. Nico sits in front of you and waits, blinking patiently and chewing on his lower lip while you take in his words. The lines under his eyes are deep and you can tell that he lost sleep over something this past week, likely this incident if his words have any truth to them. You nod and reach forward, cradling Nico’s face in your hands. “I’m sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt,” you tell Nico. “I know you can’t help that hockey is such a big part of your life. I know you don’t mean to put me on the backburner. I just felt a little neglected and I’m sorry that I accused you of making me an afterthought.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize because of how you feel,” Nico says. He slides his arm down to your waist. “I was caught up in everything else in my life and didn’t give you the attention you deserve. I never want to make you feel that way again.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I know you won’t.” You lean in and press a chaste kiss to Nico’s lips. After kissing him, you shuffle forward and tuck yourself against his chest. 

Nico pulls you onto his lap and cradles you there, kissing the top and side of your head. He touches as much of your body as he can, rubbing your back and your arms, your waist and your thighs. You breathe together, leaning against each other, and taking in the presence of the other person.

“Please let me show you how much I love you,” Nico requests after a few minutes, caressing your sides and looking at you with his big, brown eyes. “And how sorry I am for acting like I don’t care. I care, babe, I care so much.” He drops a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek. “Please.”

You don’t reply, but you turn your head and find his lips. You touch the scuff on Nico’s face, which he seems to have shaved over his roadie, but it’s starting to grow back. His hair is at risk of being deemed “too long” in his own opinion, so you touch the strands reverently, knowing that they’ll be gone sooner than later. 

“Let me take care of you,” Nico murmurs, dipping down to brush a kiss over your jawline. 

“Okay,” you whisper back, touching the side of Nico’s neck and the curve of his bicep. 

He fits his strong palms under your thighs, lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to distract Nico on his walk to the bedroom. You might still be a little sad about what Nico said a week ago, but the apology worked well enough that you’re trying to let it go. 

Nico lays you on the bed, kissing down your body and undressing you as he goes. His touch is loving, almost overwhelmingly so. He removes his shirt and settles between your legs, kissing from your calf to the inside of your knee, up your thigh and all the way to your hip bone. 

The only sound that fills the room is the shared sigh of relief when Nico connects with your core. As his tongue flattens and licks a stripe up your slit, Nico’s eyes flutter shut and his hands fix on your hips to pull you closer. 

Ninety percent of the time, Nico gets ravenous when he’s eating you out. Today is different. 

His tongue trails through your folds. The tip of the muscle traces every inch of your cunt before he even considers pressing closer. Nico takes his time– he savors the taste of your slick. “Mm, liebste,” Nico groans. “You taste so good.” 

He works his tongue against your cunt, licking around the rim of your entrance before flicking further inside. One of his hands comes to your front, thumb contacting your clit and rubbing soothing circles over it. His other hand travels underneath your body and you let out a startled gasp when his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, dragging you even closer.

He’s systematic and precise, kitten licking at your insides. He focuses on one part of your body, then another– in this case, he goes from your hole to wrapping his all-consuming lips around your clit and suckling. 

His index finger finds your entrance and soothes the smooth ring, drawing circles over the outline of your most intimate area before you lift your hips into his touch. You’re silently asking for more and Nico understands that, gently pushing his finger inside. Just like with his mouthwork, he’s slow and attentive. 

The pad of Nico’s fingertip feels out your inner walls, welcoming the hug of your cunt around his digit eagerly and repaying you by trying to find that spot inside of you, the one that always makes you see stars. 

His hair has started to fall messily over his forehead, brushing his eyebrows. You find the strands with your hands, clutching at them and moving his head where you need it to be– for all intents and purposes, you keep him mostly aligned with your clit, but the movement of his head provides a friction that pure suction could not offer.

As you do this, his middle finger pokes at your entrance. The first knuckle disappears inside you with little resistance, then Nico starts to work on opening you up. His fingers scissor inside of you, spearing against the gummy ridges of your muscle, preparing you for his cock. 

You clench down a bit at the thought of his member, pleas for the length on the tip of your tongue. You know Nico is thinking about fucking you too, just based on the way he rolls his hips against the mattress and hums. 

He releases your clit from between his lips, which draws a whine of protest from you. Nico chuckles quietly and turns his head, planting a kiss on your inner thigh. Then, he dips his head and twists his wrist so that his palm faces upward. Nico licks between his two fingers, his eyelids open just enough that you can see how he looks up at you and takes you in. 

Nico draws away from your pussy only to ask, “Chunsch du, schatz?” 

He’s teasing you, plucking at an inside joke from when you felt you were brave enough to try to learn Swiss German. Thinking it would be sweet, you’d tried your hand at talking Nico’s native tongue in bed, but your words had just seemed too formal. Still, it’s something you can laugh over. Nico loves to parrot your effort at “Are you coming?” back at you, always smiling fondly when he does.

He’s worked his tongue back between his fingers, looking up at you with raised eyebrows. He waits for you to answer his question, sure to bump his nose against your clit when you open your mouth, so that you produce a moan instead of a sentence. Nico giggles at his little joke, cheeks dimpling and eyes crinkling. He brings his mouth to your clit and kisses over the bud, steadily pumping his fingers to really bring you to orgasm.

You whimper when he works a third thick finger into your entrance, stuffing you full. You know it’s necessary since his cock is also thick, but there’s a dull ache at the first stretch that has you writhing on the bed. 

“I know, I know,” Nico soothes, lathing kiss after kiss to your sensitive center. “But I have to get you all open for me, baby. So you feel good later, hm?” He bends his knuckles and comes into contact with your sweet spot, the rush of pleasure making your back arch involuntarily. Nico notices this and grins, eyes determined and set on continuing this feeling for you.

Your noises grow more slurred with each touch of his fingertips to your walls, especially when he flicks his tongue rapidly over your clit. He’s still teasing you, dangling the climax just out of reach with the way he’ll overwhelm your clit with his tongue and then slow down, licking flat stripes along the parts of your slit that he can reach. 

“Nico,” you lament with a frown when he pulls away again, just as you were about to come.

“Sorry,” Nico apologizes with a crinkle-eyed smile. He captures your clit and keeps his mouth there, beckoning his fingers and creating a vacuum around the bundle of nerves at the apex of your vagina. This time, he doesn’t let up– he goes and goes and goes until your hands have found their way back to his hair and pull so hard that there’s a stinging sensation along Nico’s scalp.

He allows his eyes to drift shut again, free hand dancing up your body until he finds your tits, finally giving them the attention that he feels they deserve. With a few harsh gropes, a pinch or two to your nipple, and even a tug at your chest, you’re unraveling over Nico’s digits and making your situation very well known to your neighbors.

“Bravo, süsse,” Nico praises over the heaving of your chest. He stays in contact with your center, but slows his movements to something that keeps you teetering on the precipice of pleasure rather than in the throws of it. “Do you think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you rasp out, reaching for Nico and catching him by his biceps. You coax him forward, palms sliding up to his jawline. You lick over the seam of Nico’s lips and taste yourself already, the flavor of your cum only growing stronger when Nico parts his lips and slides his tongue against yours. “Fuck me, Nico.”

“Mm, hase, I’m not going to fuck you,” Nico corrects. “I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to take care of me.”

While you were ready to protest the first part of his statement, your mouth quickly snaps shut when he finishes speaking. You lay back against the pillows, propping your head up, and you bring Nico with you. His body blankets yours, shifting atop you as he tries to remove his bottoms with one hand. His other roams on your torso, stroking the curves of your sides and stomach.

“So schön,” Nico murmurs.

“So beautiful,” you repeat, thumbing over his cheekbone. 

Nico reaches between your bodies and lines himself up with your entrance. Just like before, he moves slowly. He moves with purpose. You can feel every inch of Nico’s length as it sinks into you. 

When you roll your head back to let out a soft moan, Nico seizes the opportunity to paint a series of open-mouthed kisses on your neck. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your skin. He rolls his hips, filling you further. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you reply, hands scrambling for purchase on the expanse of his back when Nico’s tip brushes against the cartilaginous wall of your cervix. He knocks against that wall again on his next thrust forward, only drawing out about halfway before snapping forward suddenly. 

Regardless of how he fills you, his movements are still tinged with reverence and tenderness. Nico holds you like something that will break under the pressure of his fingertips, but he’s still desperate to keep you close. He’ll let his hips fall flush with yours and remain there sometimes, then other times he’ll roll and snap his hips like your lives depend on it. 

You know that there was once an argument between you, but all that matters is the fact that Nico is here and he’s doing exactly what he promised he’d do: take care of you.

His hand finds your arm, then trails up to your wrist. He presses your wrist into the cushion above your head, but doesn’t stop there. He brings his fingers up to your palm, tracing over the lines that represent your love and your life. He slots his fingers between yours and intertwines your fingers, holding your hand tight as he continues to thrust into you. He repeats the same process on the other side, until both of your hands are wrapped in his. He pins you to the bed, but you feel only safe and secure, not trapped in the slightest. 

“You’re so tight around me, baby,” Nico says, ending his statement with a kiss. His voice is low and rough, breathless and nearly spent due to the tango you’re performing now. “Gonna fill you up, fill you ‘til all of my love is dripping out of you.”

You were already overwhelmed, but when he said that– and then nibbled your bottom lip after– you feel a dam break inside of you. You come suddenly and without warning, jaw dropping. A high keen falls from your mouth, only to be met with a coo from Nico and a deep grunt as he continues to fuck into your even tighter entrance. 

The squeeze of your cunt around Nico’s cock is enough to make him come too, the white spurts of cum filling your hole just like he’d promised. You can feel Nico trembling a bit from the aftershocks, your chest meeting his as you arch up into his touch and he deflates from exhaustion. He covers you just like a warm comforter and kisses you lazily, both of you wanting to stay connected after such an intense reunion.

You feel satiated, calm and happy that Nico came to you when he returned instead of going home and basking in the misery of the argument from a week prior. You certainly feel better now, after having gone through the throes of that low point in your relationship.

“Mm,” Nico hums, like he remembered something suddenly. His head tilts and he kisses along the crook of your neck. “During the break in February, I thought you’d like to come home with me. We can have a little couples vacation at home, just you and me. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, Nico,” you tell him, smoothing his hair beneath your fingertips. “That sounds amazing.”

note: read a stoner!nico fic recently that Cece reblogged and I tweaked. thinking of y'all! i think you'll see nico a lot sooner on this blog than you expect... perhaps a little "nico x ____ x reader".....

[axeeglitter]

One way trip to Caracas

The flight from Paris to Caracas was long, but every second felt like a victory for Julien. At 32 years old, this was his first solo trip abroad, the culmination of years of hard work and saving every spare euro. His coworkers had teased him, saying it was too dangerous to travel to Venezuela alone, but Julien had brushed off their concerns. For him, this was not just a holiday; it was a statement of independence. No more predictable vacations with his family. No more dreaming of adventure while flipping through travel magazines. This was his time.

The sweltering heat hit him the moment he stepped out of the airport. Caracas was unlike anything he had ever seen. The towering buildings cast long shadows over streets bustling with life. Food vendors called out to passersby, the scent of arepas and empanadas mingling with the tropical humidity. The colors overwhelmed him: bright murals on crumbling walls, vibrant clothing, and the endless blue sky above.

Julien, with his average build and confident demeanor, stood out among the locals. His fair skin and European features marked him as a tourist immediately, but he didn’t mind. He had always prided himself on being adaptable, confident, and able to handle himself in any situation. After all, he’d spent years in the gym maintaining a body he was proud of. He wasn’t particularly muscular, but he was fit, a point of pride for someone who considered himself just an ordinary guy.

He had planned his trip meticulously. Days of hiking in the Andes, visits to Angel Falls, and, today, exploring the city and getting lost in its streets and markets.

The marketplace was everything Julien had hoped for and more. It was a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds: merchants shouting over each other, music blaring from hidden speakers, the clinking of coins exchanged for fresh produce, handmade crafts, and colorful trinkets. Julien wandered through the labyrinth of stalls, enchanted by the vibrant fabrics, carved wooden figurines, and the aroma of spices he couldn’t quite identify.

He stopped at a table displaying intricate jewelry. Bracelets made of woven leather, necklaces adorned with tiny beads, and rings of all shapes and sizes were laid out like treasures waiting to be discovered. The seller, an older woman with silver-streaked hair, smiled at him and began explaining each piece in rapid Spanish. Julien’s knowledge of the language was limited, but her enthusiasm was infectious.

As he examined a particularly striking silver bracelet, a group of teenagers loitered nearby, watching him. There were five of them, all around 18 to early 20s years old, dressed in a mix of modern streetwear and local flair. They whispered among themselves, smirking and occasionally glancing in his direction. Julien noticed them but didn’t think much of it. He assumed they were just curious about the foreigner in their midst.

“¿Cuánto cuesta?” Julien asked the vendor, pointing at the bracelet.

Before the woman could answer, one of the teenagers, probably the leader of the group,  stepped forward. He was tall and wiry, with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “Señor, let me help you,” the boy said in heavily accented English, grinning. “You don’t want that. It’s too expensive for you.”

Julien raised an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. “Thanks, but I can handle myself.”

The boy’s grin widened. “Of course. Just saying. You should look around more. Better deals everywhere.” He gestured vaguely at the surrounding stalls.

The other teenagers laughed softly, their eyes gleaming with mischief. Julien turned back to the vendor, brushing off the interaction. He had no idea that, while he was distracted, another member of the group had slipped close behind him.

As Julien continued haggling over the bracelet, a smaller boy with a quick, practiced motion slid something into the pocket of Julien’s cargo shorts. The boy rejoined his friends, who stifled their laughter as they watched the oblivious tourist.

Julien eventually purchased the bracelet from the lady while small talking with her a bit and then moved on, unaware of the extra weight in his pocket. He spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the market, sampling local snacks and taking photos. The teenagers followed him at a distance, always staying just out of sight, their laughter echoing faintly as Julien admired a stand of colorful ceramic bowls.

By the time Julien returned to his modest hotel room that evening, the events of the day had left him exhilarated and exhausted. He dumped his shopping bag on the bed and emptied his pockets, pulling out his phone, wallet, and… a ring? Frowning, he examined it. The metal was cold and oddly heavy, the symbols on its surface almost seeming to shift under the dim light of the room.

“Weird,” he muttered, setting it aside. He assumed he must have accidentally picked it up at the market, maybe it had fallen into his bag or pocket while the young men were talking to him. Julien tried the ring on his finger and it fit perfectly, it was hugging his skin without compressing him and it was a perfect touch that he could keep as a memory of his travel. Being happy to find this ring by accident and seeing how well fitted it felt, Julien got ready to go to bed, forgetting completely to take the ring off as he fell asleep on his bed.

The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains of Julien’s hotel room, casting a golden glow on the sparse furnishings. He groaned softly, his body heavy with the lingering fatigue of the previous day. Stretching, he rubbed his face, only to pause when his hand brushed against his jawline. The stubble he had carefully groomed just yesterday felt... thinner. Softer, almost.

He sat up, dismissing the thought as morning grogginess, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood, he felt an odd looseness in his pajama shorts. They slid slightly down his hips, which felt narrower than usual. Julien tugged them back up, frowning but attributing it to weight loss from the heat and all the walking he’d done.

In the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and glanced into the mirror. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at him. His skin, usually a pale European tone, had darkened slightly, as if the last days sun he took finally put a tan on his pale skin. His features looked subtly different, his nose a touch broader, his cheekbones sharper. It wasn’t drastic, but it was enough to make him pause and watch with attention how just a tan can make such a difference on his face and body.

“Must be the sun,” he muttered, running a hand through his short-cropped hair to style them after what he got himself ready for another hot day to explore Caracas and its streets.

But as the day wore on, Julien’s discomfort grew. Walking through the city streets, he noticed his stride felt different, as though his legs were subtly reshaping themselves. His calves felt leaner, his thighs slightly more muscular, but not in the way he was used to. There was a new tautness to his skin, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. His shirt clung awkwardly to his torso, which seemed slimmer than it had been in the morning.

By the afternoon, Julien’s reflection in shop windows was unmistakably altered. His once broad shoulders had softened slightly, tapering down to an athletic but less imposing frame. His arms, too, seemed leaner, the veins that usually stood out on his forearms now subdued beneath smoother, slightly darker skin.

The changes, at first painless, began to take on a strange intensity. As evening approached, Julien found himself stumbling as a sharp ache flared in his joints. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was persistent, like his body was being stretched and compressed at the same time. His face felt hot, as though feverish, and when he caught his reflection in a storefront window, he barely recognized himself. His jawline had softened, his lips fuller, and his eyes, a deep brown now instead of their usual golden hazel, stared back at him with an unfamiliar intensity.

Julien panicked seeing that he didn’t recognize himself anymore in his reflection. This was not the sun; this was something else. He needed help. Julien ran back at the hotel, paced the room, his heart pounding. He started to think and walk in his bed, trying to find an explication on the internet while looking for the emergency number; but now that he was alone with his thought and changing body, the feeling was growing stronger and stronger. Julien could feel his bones grinding each other as the transformation was not done yet. His skin tightening around his shrinking muscles, his vision blurring and coming back to normal, his body getting itchy. As he sat in the corner of the room, Julien felt a sharp painful sensation around his fingers, he tilted his head only to realize the ring he put on yesterday was still on, and worst, it was shining a faint golden hue. The ring. It had to be the ring. He grabbed it from his finger and tugged on it, trying to take it off. But it was not moving at all. Worst it felt like he was tearing off his own finger. It was stuck in place. As he was about to try once again going to the bathroom to put soap and water, he felt a jolt of energy course his body and coming from his finger. Julien screamed in pain as his voice felt rougher and higher at the same time. The wave of energy was running through his body and then it stopped and centralized around his feet. Julien turned his head and watched in horror as his feet started to compress and shrink right in front of his eyes. The symbols etched into the surface of the ring seemed to shimmer and shift, almost as if alive. Desperate, he tried to pull it off once again, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The metal felt warm against his skin, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Julien screamed in panic once again as he felt the ring starting to warm once again, like if it was ready to release a new wave. Julien was terrified and just like he thought, the sensation of invasion in his body came back once again, only this time it went in the direction of his head. The last thing Julien saw before his vision blurred and was taken by darkness was the night falling in his dark room as a golden light was emitted from his left hand.

As night fell and Julien was still fainted on his bed, the transformation accelerated. Julien’s once well-groomed chest and arms were now smooth, devoid of the hair he had always taken pride in. Yet, paradoxically, his armpits and thighs had grown thick with dark, curly hair, the contrast both alarming and surreal. His body continued to slim down, shedding years as it reshaped itself into that of a teenager. His abdomen, while still toned, looked less defined, the muscle structure softer and more natural.

The pain became unbearable by midnight. Julien curled up on the bed, clutching his stomach as spasms wracked his unconscious body. His bones felt like they were grinding against each other, his muscles tightening and releasing in unnatural patterns as tears streamed down his fainted face.

By dawn, the transformation was nearly complete. Julien’s once angular features were now softer, more youthful, with a golden-brown complexion that glowed in the bright morning light. Julien opened his eyes and turned his head around, taking the light in his warm brown eyes as his pupils contracted to accommodate to it. He turned his head to the left to look at the clock, forgetting what happened yesterday, but as he saw his tanned hand in front of him, everything came back to him. The ring, the changes, his body. Julien jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, his body, lean and athletic, moved with an ease and agility he hadn’t felt in years. There, in the mirror reflection, Julien saw his face and body. He looked like a local Venezuelan teenager, no older than 18. The realization hit him like a blow. Julien gasped in surprise and fear only to hear his deep voice being way higher and younger than what he was used to.

He couldn’t be stuck like this; he had a flight back in 2 days. How could he take the plane, his passport wasn’t even looking like himself anymore! As he kept on walking around the room, trying to find a solution, the light of the morning sun shine through his curtain and fell on his ringed finger, which illuminated his mirror reflection in golden hue. “The market!” he thought “I have to find the lady in the market, that’s her ring, I’m sure she’ll be able to help me out!” He grabbed a pair of flip flops, the only things that his feet were able to put on without loosing them, put on a pair of shorts and a shirt that was way too big for his body and then ran to the market with hope in his chocolate eyes. 

By the time Julien reached the bustling market, the sun was high in the sky, its heat beating down relentlessly and little to no sweat dripping down from his forehead. He maneuvered through the crowded streets, his heart thudding in his chest and the ring. Everything about the market felt more chaotic than it had the day before, the colors, the sounds, the voices speaking in rapid Spanish that he inexplicably understood with greater clarity now. He tugged at the sleeves of his loose shirt; his movements awkward as he tried to mask the unfamiliar changes in his body.

He reached the vendor’s stall from the day before and froze. The elderly woman wasn’t there. Her table was empty, the trinkets and jewelry nowhere in sight. His stomach churned as he turned in circles, scanning the crowd for her hunched figure. “She must be somewhere, she has to! I don’t know wha…”

“Señor turista!” interrupted a young men’s voice.

It made Julien’s blood run cold. He turned slowly, not knowing who to to expect or even if it was for him.

There, standing in front of him with a smirk on his face, a familiar young man with other ones stood a few meters away from him, their cocky smiles and sharp eyes fixed on him. The leader, a tall, wiry boy with dark, calculating eyes, stepped forward, his head tilting with mock curiosity.

“You look like you need help. You lost or something?” the leader asked kindly, switching easily between Spanish and English, his grin widening. “Come with me, we’ll help you find her. It’s not the first time this bruja does something like that.”

Julien’s breath quickened, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “Can you? That would be awesome. I’m terrified, I don’t even recognize myself, and everything feels so vivid and different.” he said, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound firm. “Do you know where she is? I have to turn back. I don’t want … this” he said pointing at his regressed body.

The leader’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “Sure, don’t worry. That’s why I tried to help you the other day when you bought this bracelet. But you didn’t listen. It’s ok, we can help you don’t worry. Just follow us, her shop is a few streets away.” Julien felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders and he laughed a bit out of anxiety. He’ll be able to go back home. As Julien followed the men and his group outside of the market, he didn’t realize the streets were getting less crowded. The houses getting closer from each other and the sun was having trouble piercing through the closed roofs surrounding them. “So, not to be uneducated or anything, but how long do you think we’ll have to walk? You said it was close and we’ve been walking for almost 25 minutes. I’m just wondering if… Hey! Stop that!” Julien was interrupted in his sentence. Two of the men he was following grabbed him by the arms. He tried to break free but they were way too strong for him to do anything in this twink body he was now inhabiting. In a quick move, Julien’s feet were not touching the ground anymore and as he kept on screaming for help, a door opened behind them, leading in a poorly decorated house with only a well-used black leather couch. They threw Julien on the couch and his head punched the wall behind him, making him dizzy for a minute. When his ideas were cleared, he jumped back on his feet only to realize the whole gang was surrounding him and he had nowhere to escape.

“Let me through,” he said, his voice louder now, his nerves beginning to fray.

“Why would we do that?” one of the boys sneered. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The leader stepped closer, his gaze locking on Julien’s terrified face. “You still don’t understand, don’t you? There is no escape for you, not anymore.”

Julien instinctively covered his hand, but the leader’s smirk deepened. “It’s too late to hide it now,” he said. “You’re already marked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julien said, though his voice betrayed his growing panic. He tried to push past them, but hands grabbed his arms, his shoulders, his shirt, forcing him backward against the couch.

“You don’t get it, do you?” the leader said, leaning in close. “The lady is not the problem. She was just someone selling her craft trying to get money. She won’t help you, or turn you back!” “But you said…” Julien answered with tears in his throat. “I say a lot of things Julien. Here, it’s either eat or be eaten. And I won’t get eaten by society, not today, not tomorrow. See we needed someone like you. And you are perfect I have to say, or rather were. Your innocent face, your pale skin, your basic body. Yea you really were perfect. And you were alone, Jackpot!” continued the men as al his friends were still blocking Julien from running away. “Now listen, from now on, you work for me. And if you try to say anything out of character, well, let’s say you won’t be saying anything else.” “I’m sorry. I have money, I can pay you. Just turn me back and I’ll give you whatever you want. Please.” Answered Julien with tears rolling down his tanned cheeks. “What did I just say? Nothing out of character. Looks like you broke the first rule, isn’t that right Mateo?” said the men with a cocky smile creeping on his lips.

Julien froze. “Mateo?” he echoed, confused.

The leader laughed darkly. “I told you, Mateo. I won’t accept any side steps from my men.”

“Please I’m sorry. I…,” Julien hissed, trying to wrench free, but the gang’s grabbed him back as he tried to get up from the couch only to be pushed back and forced to sit. Julien froze as he was forced there on the couch. The leader took a step in his direction and then looked at his friends next to him. He smiled and then Julien saw the two men laughing and smirking as they approached his paralyzed body. Soon, the men grabbed Julien’s clothes until he was star naked. His new athletic tanned and musky body sitting there for everybody to look at him. Julien felt humiliated and hated every second of it, but he couldn’t escape from their grip, he was trapped. “I’ll pay you, just let me go. I won’t talk to anyone. Please!” said one more time Julien, trying to argue with the leader standing in front of him.

The leader didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the ring and pulled. Julien gasped as a sharp, burning sensation shot through his finger, as though the ring had fused to his skin. For a moment, it resisted, but then it slipped free, leaving behind a faint red mark on his tanned finger. Julien screamed as felt a part of himself getting ripped with the ring. His head started to spin as everything was starting to merge together before being broken and reformed again. Sweat started to poor down from his skin, his armpits sweating abundantly. Tears of sweat were rolling down his forehead and blurred his vision as he felt like his head was about to explode. He then felt an alien sensation invading his cock. It was like it was burning and itching t the same time. Julien opened his brown eyes only to realize in his blurred vision that his cock was now changing to something totally different. It started to shrink and compress on itself. Veins popping on the lengths as sensitivity started to grow higher and higher. Then burning appeared at the base, Julien’s mouth opened, trying to ask for mercy, as he felt a new forest of curly dark pubes starting to grow. Then his new smaller but thicker dick started to beat with the rhythm of his younger heart, his body getting overdosed by hormones as he couldn’t control himself, his hips wanted to move, to thrust, but the men were still holding him down. Without being able to control himself, a thick pearl of precum was ejected from his new tanner cock head, the first of many. Then all of a sudden, everything stopped. Julien opened his eyes again and everything was calmed, the men still in front of him was smirking with the ring in his hand, shining in a heartbeat rhythm before shutting off in a faint glow that soon stopped too.

“¿Qué me están haciendo? ¿Qué está pasando?”

The gang burst into laughter, their mocking voices echoing off the alley walls. Julien’s panic spiked as he realized he couldn’t remember how to speak English. Worse, his own name felt foreign to him, slipping from his mind entirely.

“As I said, your name is Mateo now,” the leader said, his grin cruel. “And you’re mine.”

“No... no puede ser,” Julien, no, Mateo whispered, his younger voice trembling.

The leader crouched down in front of him, his expression softening into something almost sympathetic. “You going to bring me a lot of money” he said. “My clients will adore you, that’s for sure.”

Julien shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “Esto no está bien,” he murmured, but the conviction in his voice was fading, drowned out by the growing fog in his mind.

The gang’s laughter grew louder as they released their grips on him. Julien’s resistance ebbed, his will crumbling under the weight of the changes overtaking him. As he tried to get up begging one last time for help, the leader snapped his fingers. Julien’s head spanned and he started to blink in confusion, his erected dick starting to spasm and eject more and more precum. In front of him, the leader called one of his loyal friend and gave him the bronze ring. As Julien looked at him, his vision blurred by pleasure and confusion, he saw the young men putting the ring on and in a couple of second, he saw his old reflection standing naked in front of him. His old body standing there at attention and waiting for the leader’s orders. “Que …. No es…” Julien managed to say as his cock was spasming more and more, pleasure invading his young naked sweaty and musky body. The leader just turned his head and smirked. “Cum par mi, puta!” Julien felt the orgasm rising as he couldn’t control himself anymore and suddenly cum fired out of his cock. It felt like he finally could breath again. Julien closed his eyes and when he opened them again, a smirk appeared on his younger face. “Bienvenido, Mateo” said the leader with a smile on his face as he threw a grey used jockstrap to Mateo. “Hola Boss!” answered Mateo as Julien was gone for good, drying on the cement floor.

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys!

Here is the story I wrote for @misctf. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, my DMs are open, so feel free to send me a message if you have any ideas you'd like me to write about.

Also, we're getting close to 1,000, so be ready, I’m planning a special event for you once we reach that milestone!

Thank you so much, guys! See you soon!

[sillyhanako]

╭╯﹒pipo pipo electric sound ！！﹕

🍮﹒⪩⪨ ﹕dates scenarios with the bluck lock boys!

🍮﹒⪩⪨ ﹕STARRING : yukimiya kenyu, bachira meguru and alexis ness ♡ fluff!

🍮꒱﹒a/n﹒one of my best works! Im really proud of this one. Lmk if you want a second part >< contains smau in kenyu and bachira parts and contains soft launches in them all

ー﹕m.list﹐

୨୧ ㆍ  yukimiya kenyu

Today was one of Yukimiya's rare days off. He had just finished modeling for a big hit magazine, and his manager insisted that he take a day off to reward his hard work.

and how would he spend it? With his lover, of course! Lately, you both have been struggling to make time for each other, each busy with work or school. But today was conveniently a beautiful sunny day where everything just felt right—the breeze was gentle and the air fragrant with spring flowers. Yukimiya decided that this was the perfect moment for a sweet date.

At three thirty he knocked on your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. You were surprised, and Yukimiya could barely see your face, not because of his blindness, but because of how big the bouquet was.

"You didn't have to..! ," you said with joy, unable to contain your excitement and gratitude. "I missed you," he replied softly, placing his gifts on the table and embracing you tightly, as if trying to merge your bodies.

You helped him take off his jacket and handed him a cup of water, engaging in casual conversation to relax after the ride.

"speaking of TikTok, I saw this cute little trend. Look!" You exclaimed, showing him a video of two couples painting each other's t-shirts and a blank dinosaur clay figure.

"I think we should definitely do that. I have spare t-shirts, and instead of clay figures, we can order tote bags. Are you in?" You looked at him with anticipation.

"Yeah sure why not? Should we make matching ones?" "Oh good idea! Ill get the fabric paint hold on-"

after digging for a good 30 minutes in house you finally got what you needed on your living room's table. You laid out your plain canvas bags and soft, white t-shirts like a blank canvas ready to receive your wildest ideas. As you started painting, yukimiya leaned over, his shoulder brushing against yours. “What do you think we should make first?” he asked, his voice playful, and your heart did that little flip it always did around him. You suggested matching sanrio designs— you chose Kiki and LaLa . “Perfect-!” he replied, already splattering some paint onto his shirt in excitement, totally unbothered by the mess you were about to create. You recommended using a starting sketch, so you pulled out your phones getting a clear picture of your character.

Time flew by as you discussed everything varrying from your favorite sanrio products to your dream travel destinations, each topic punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful shoving and thus losing sense of time and making way too many 'masterpieces' . You both decided that every little imperfection you painted was just part of the charm.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and orange, you stepped back to admire your creations. They weren’t just tote bags and t-shirts; they were memories smeared with laughter and love. You felt so grateful to have Yuki by your side—someone to share these memories with and made everyone one of them memorable.

“Okay, you know what we should do next? we should to model them!” you declared, striking a silly pose, and it was impossible not to giggle at how silly you looked. You put your new creations on, proudly showcasing your masterpieces, and snapped a few selfies, capturing the essence of the day.

kenyuki our beautiful mess <3 @.ynthediva

bachicha BRO ACTUALLY PULLS?????➜kenyuki Shut yo skin tone chicken bone google chrome no flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full nlown monochrome student loan indiana jones overgrown flintstone x and y hormone friend zoned sylvester stallone fsierra leone autozone professionally seen silver patrone headass tf up ➜ynthediva CLOCKED. ➜ryu__shid GAGGED.

slursagi yall look lowk cute 😕 ➜ynthediva thanks 😙 ➜ynthediva WHAT IS THAT USERNAME ➜slursagi STOP IT WAS A DARE ➜ynthediva by who 😭 ➜slursagi that bitchless kurona.

karasuhq one slip up is all i need.. ➜kenyuki blocked. ➜hiyo_yo bro is like a dragon guarding his treasure 😭 pipe down ➜ninin._ninja talking like you pull any 💀😰 ➜hiyo_yo you failed 5th grade. ➜ninin._ninja im sorry sir

୨୧ ㆍ  bachira meguru

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the buildings as you stood outside the cinema, glancing at your watch, waiting for someone to show up. The flickering neon lights of the theater were a perfect backdrop for one of your favorite dates with your boyfriend bachira. Your heart raced with excitement as you wished for him to speed up just a little bit.

Just as you were about to check your phone, you heard his signature laugh—bright and infectious. Turning around, there he was, a ball of energy with his messy bee coloured hair and those big brown eyes that youve grown to love.

He zoomed toward you like he’d just spotted a prize in a carnival game, and before you knew it, he had looped an arm around your shoulders squeezing you in a hug.

“Hey! Ready for the movie?” he beamed, his enthusiasm almost tangible.

“Absolutely!” you replied, bouncing slightly on your toes trying to match his seemingly endless energy, seriously where does he get it from?

You approached the entrance, the lively crowd enhancing the thrill of the moment. Chatter filled the waiting room and after grabbing your tickets—he insisted on paying because the date was his idea—you headed to the concession stand.

“Okay, we need the largest popcorn they have. And candy! Which one should we get?” he declared as you stood before the colorful assortment of sweets.

“Hmm, gummy bears?” you suggested, but he shot you a look like you'd just suggested swimming in jelly.

“No way, we need chocolate! It’s a movie must-have!” He patted his chest as if making a proclamation.

You chuckled, and after a quick playful banter about whos the better movie must-have you settled on a massive bucket of honey popcorn and a couple of chocolate bars, and he practically wore a victorious grin as you made your way into the screening room.

Once inside, you found your seats—perfectly positioned in the middle of the theater. The dim lights illuminated the previews casting shadows across the room. Bachira flopped down beside you, as you couldn’t help but snicker watching his exaggerated excitement for the snacks, He lunged for the popcorn, shoving a handful into his mouth, claiming he couldnt wait to devour them, and thats probably going to make the both of you watch the rest of the movie without snacks. Fun.

“mhmff! 'his ish tha befsh parsh of tha 'ovie!"  he laughed with his mouth full and a buttery grin "wanth sum?" He offered you a handful of perfectly honeyed popcorn and you could resist the urge to say yes.

You settled in as the previews began to roll, the buzz of the theater fading into the background. He leaned close, whispering comments about the upcoming films, and you found yourself leaning into him, soaking up every moment of this somewhat messy date.

As the lights dimmed fully and the film began, you felt utterly content and couldnt ask for more. I mean your silly boyfriend AND a movie date?, surely you have the capability to muffle some giggles throughout the movie, right?

bachichan me and my skibidi rizzler yall vould NEVER 🤑🤑

leo._.reo how did bachira pull before me 😭 unbelievable ➜kingbarou the real question is how did he find someone that matched his freak bachichan yall just jealous 🤑🤑

➜redprincessa @ynthediva please reconsider and thank you 😊 ➜bachichan solve whatever shit you have between you and that ichigo wannabe 🤑🤑 ➜ku_.niga_.mi im gonna gorge your eyes out. ➜bachichan @redprincessa come get yo dog bih 😭😭

ynthediva the date was so fun 😊 exited for more! ➜bachichan glad to heart dat :DD hihuihihh ➜slurisagi why r u down bad bro ➜redprincessa that brotha gooone

➜aikou20 yoo my number xxx-xxx-xxx if u ever get tired from that schizo <33 ➜ynthediva arent you like 30 ➜aikou20 WHAT. ➜bachichan CLOCKEDDDD

୨୧ ㆍ  alexis ness

The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting playful shadows across the flour-dusted countertop. You stood there, and besides you ness, apron tied snugly around your waists.

He carefully put the ingredients needed on the countertop and fetched the necessary kitchen tools . "Alright, we have everything ready, we can start now sweetheart ♡” Ness’s sweet voice and dimpled smile broke through the quiet atmosphere.

at ness's announcement you pressed the play button on your phone that started a relaxing melody. You rolled up your sleeves, and together you began measuring ingredients, flour flying, and playful banters. As you poured and stirred, he leaned in closer than necessary, your shoulders brushing.

"It hasnt even been long and i already made a mess.." you said defeatedly, apron full of flour and chocolate stains.

“but youre my mess.” he replied, his gaze softening as he caught your eye. You could feel your cheeks heat up, but you just shrugged it off with a smile. "I swear youre such a tease."

Before long, the oven was preheating and the dough was chilling. “Okay, next step — the bake,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron, feeling quite smug.

He looked at you with a sad puppy-dog expression. “i hope i wont be the cause that messed up the cookies... like the last time.. "

You couldn’t help but feel pity for him, remembering the charred remnants of what was supposed to be a masterful treat. “Hey, that just shows how dedicated you are to your art,” you teased, nudging him playfully. "And i still ate them, didnt i?"

As the sweet aroma began to fill the kitchen, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the oven. It was the way he wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you, the way he didnt want to dissapoint you again. it was honestly admirable.

“Just wait until they come out of the oven. They’re going to be amazing just wait till you see!” you said, stealing a quick glance at him, trying to hype him up from his wet-cat mood.

“Not as amazing as you.."  he muttered quietly, but you fortunately catched it and you noticed the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Okay, flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned, finally pulling the oven tray that contains now fresh and delicious looking cookies. you didnt miss the chance to shove a hot one to him.

"See? They look appetizing. And i bet theyre tasty too —" You tried one, forgeting it hasnt been even 5 minutes theyre out from the oven. yeah you got burned and got a panicked ness worrying.

alexisn3ss memories with my favourite person 😊💗

anriiiii looks delicious 😮 mind if i get a taste? 🎀 ➜ynthediva yess!! Of course!!! ➜alexisn3ss no go make your own 😊

charliesthebaddie NOOOO who wants to make heart shaped cookies w me 😔😔😔 ➜shidoxox dw i gotchu bro ➜charliesthebaddie bro... 😢

redprincessa i smell wife material 👃 ➜slurisagi from who tho ➜redprincessa alex ➜alexisn3ss call me that again and your acls r gone ➜redprincessa YOU DID NTO ➜ynthediva what do i even say to this 😭 ate or be nice 💔 ➜redprincessa so now ur doubting wether to back me up or not 😒 i thought we had sum smh ➜ynthediva NO PLS I STILL NEED TO KNOW YOUR HAIR CARE ROUTINE

© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[w2hoonki]

obsession | p.s

MDNI !

warnings : unprotected sex, dry humping

my eyes wandered around the room as they make their way to sunghoon, i couldn't help but blush at the way he looked. everything about him looked so pretty, the way his hair sat on his forehead, his lashes that fluttered as he ate, the way his wiped his mouth with a napkin. i can't deny that i was obsessed with him, but who wouldn't be?

he was just peacefully sitting with his friends, listening to them like the kind person he is. i looked away before anyone could notice my habits. my friends talked about our weekend plans we had, with all the boys they have a crush on. my friend group and another one were pairing up and going to the beach. i was the only person in the group who wasn't open about my crush, i normally shrugged it off like i didn't have one, but i only ever had my eyes on sunghoon.

as lunch finished up, i gathered my things and walked to my next class. sunghoon was in english next, not with me. i always followed behind him, but he never noticed me.

getting ready for the trip was easy, there was no one there to impress. i packed all my comfy and summer clothes and jumped onto the train. as i enter the train i make eye contact with sunghoon, he stands there doing basically nothing, and he has me on my knees with that gaze.

even though i hadn't packed any nice clothes i was going to find a way for him. all of his friends were loud but he kept his gaze on me the entire time. i couldn't help but notice every time our eyes met, leaving my neck red and hot. time traveling through memories, but something was missing, sunghoon. your heart started to race as you held eye contact. He wasn’t the type of guy to look for long but when your eyes met he couldn’t stop looking at you. It was almost like he wanted you the way you wanted him. he stared at you with lust and desire almost in need of you.

you couldn't help but adjust your skirt to cover your legs. sunghoon sat next to you and put his arm around you. "looks like we're the only non couple huh?" he told you with a grin. your face heated with embarrassment as the boy you loved had his arm around you and he was talking to you.

"yeah you're right, and maybe we could share a bed or something." you said with a grin. you tried to push it off quickly as if you hadn't said one of your nasty thoughts out to the boy you loved but he nodded.

as you entered the room you sat on the bed and sunghoon got onto it with you. he laid down and rested his head on the pillow. he was always a flirt with other girls so you had felt not what you had wanted him to think of you but you couldn't help it. you laid next to him and cuddled into your pillow.

"you could cuddle into me you know" he said with a smirk, the smirk that had you giggling like a middle school girl. you shook your head, playing hard to get, not because you wanted it but you weren't quite ready. he just chuckled at your words.

"maybe we could watch a movie" you said with a smile. he shrugged as if he didn't really care but you turned on a random movie and watched it. he wrapped his arms around his pillow and placed it on top of his lap, covering something. he watched you with a smirk and a bit to his bottom lip. his hips shifted under the pillow and a groan had lodged into his throat. his head leaned back onto the headboard and he mumbled under his breath. your core was starting to beg for him as he was starting to go crazy for you.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me" he groaned out. he put his hand out asking for permission and you gave it to him with a nod. his hands gripped your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. "i always see you, why do you think i flirt with all those girls, i thought one day you would come and stop me but you never did. you think you're the obsessed one?" he asked with groaning as he grinded up into you. you whimpered at his words wondering all the time his feelings for you had gone over your head.

"you're so attractive sunghoon" you said while gasping out as he was grinding into your soaked core. he was trying his hardest to go slow but he wanted to run one hundred ad fifty miles with you. neither of you could wait for the other as the lust filled the room and the two people in the room.

"you're just as hot sweet girl" he chuckled out while smiling his bright smile. the room filled with sounds of your lips crashed together and his deep breaths. eventually you were both bare in the bed together, clothes covered the sides of the ground as you both stripped.

"you're so gorgeous baby" he groaned out as his hands wandered up to your breasts, his hands gripped hard, a whimper escaping your lips. he pulled you onto him so you were straddling him, your thighs tightened around his waist as he held you on his lap. his hands left your chest to grip your thighs and place you onto the bed.

"can i?" he asked while pressing his tip to the opening of you core. you nodded quickly as your core soaked the sheets under you. his tip slowly entered your hole, you gasped out in pleasure, cries and moans left your lips as he fully entered you. you clenched down had on his cock as he filled your core the way you've always wanted him to. his cock brushed against your g-spot causing you to clench even harder around him. his hands gripped harder and harder as his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier into your core.

"right there" you whimpered out into the room, his pace slowed down as he made sure you felt every inch of him deep inside of you. he groaned out as you gripped tightly onto his hair, his thrusts became heavier as he was getting closer to his high. he couldn't keep it inside of himself and as soon as you pulsated around his cock cumming, he was releasing deep inside of you.

after a bit he finally pulled out of you. the stretch was still there as he held you but you didn't worry about it.

"i love you" you mumble out to sunghoon. he only smiled at you before whispering "i love you too".

[velvet-paradox]

Secured (Part One)

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: wanting a little slower pace in his military career, König takes a calmer, desk job while he recovers. After a bit of a mix up on shifts, König is now in charge of what comes next. (I've been watching The Night Agent and got inspired!) Length: Medium Warnings: explicit content, strong language, eventual NSFW. ENJOY!

König had fully intended to listen to his mother's concerns the last time he visited her cozy little cottage on the hillside. Tended-to garden, trimmed up grass from the helpful lads that lived just down the road. He'd been injured, shot in the shoulder where conditioned muscle met bone, got treated and sent home with strict orders to take it easy.

Relax.

Live a little.

And he did just that.

Enjoying his time with is mother, resurfacing memories of when he was a boy, less scarred and jovial then the man posted up on her afghan covered couch. Physical therapy was bitch, even a pint couldn't stoke off the fire that burned into his joints.

He was also enjoying homecooked meals and not the usual mess hall offerings or freeze dried lumps they'd slap tantalizing names on the plain, brown packaging, as the stuff inside were actually up to snuff.

Ja right!

"You ought to settle down now , König. You have been fighting for most of your life, you should be living, traveling and seeing the world with the love of your life under arm. Don't you want that?"

Of course he did.

Most of his life were acts of service, finished deeds, quotas. Filling out paperwork, signing classified documents, pursuing the worst of the worst, taking down targets, letting his life on the actual line for the greater good.

Did a certain foreign dictator need to be 'rescued' from their senate floor and taken to an undisclosed location and threated, beaten and broken for an extended amount of time until intel was finally given through broken teeth and a bloody jaw? Perhaps.

Was a 'missing' senator maybe not so missing after all under the clutches of the Austrian and with good reason, added sex trafficking was highly frowned upon and under his high ranking position too? Not on his watch.

Yes blood was on his hands, in his hair, in his mouth but those same hands wanted to also be washed clean, to hold another, to touch another.

Sometimes he'd feel unworthy, all these acts, all these years in the military formed the man laying in his bed, the same four walls that molded him, crafted him like clay. That maybe all his hard work wasn't worth all the damage. His shoulder screamed when rubbed his hands over his face.

….

"How she doin'?" Sebastian Krueger asked the following morning, sipping tea from one his mothers' glass cabinets, sitting across from König at a little table and chair set behind the cottage. He'd already eaten two biscuits was not so subtly eyeing the third one of the decorative plate.

"Mother is well, she'll be back from the market soon. You should stay for dinner, I have half a mind that she is trying to fatten me up like some Christmas goose!"

"You know I wasn't going to say any-"

"Then don't!"

Krueger chuckled and broke off half the biscuit instead.

"She must be happy to have you home for a bit, not off on field duty."

"A little too happy," König took a long, hot sip, savoring the honey on his tongue. "She thinks I should settle down, find a partner, live life while I still can."

"Is she wrong?"

"Nein. I want those things as well, Seb. I just don't know where to start! I've been on deployment after deployment, cots, and safe houses since I was seventeen. How do I talk to a woman about a life like that? One isn't going to just fall into my lap, you know?"

"I could set you up with someone if you like?"

"Yeah right," König snorted and finished his tea. "I'm not taking fucking dating advice from you."

"Why not?" Krueger eyed him, expression laden all the way up to his hairline.

"Because smart pants, you don't know any women to set me up with!"

Krueger pondered his words, eyes narrow, mouth opening and closing, lost in thought he just grunted and finished off the rest of that biscuit in defeat.

"It is smarty pants by the way!"

König heard Sebastian shout as he made his way through the threshold of the open back door to refill their cups.

….

Four months.

Four months of softly changing his sheets, helping his mother about the house, going for runs through the jagged hills, splashing his face with fresh creek water, chewing on wild growing ramps. Bringing back little rocks to add to his mother under-window flower beds, he'd done so since he was a knee high boy. She had saved them all of course.

He was starting to lose his mind, the pain meds his doktor had prescribed sat half full on the nightstand, he took them as needed but for the most part he punished himself, testing his own pain tolerance as means of an endurance challenge of sorts. He needed to do something, anything, to get out of the house.

Sebastian suggested he come back to work, take a desk job, fill out reports, that sort of thing to make his life a little more interesting until he was medically cleared for field operations.

"I know of another type of job, real laid back, you don't have to do too much physically." Kruger had mentioned one sunny, yet cold afternoon.

"Like what?"

"Ever heard of Night Division?"

"Nein, I have not." König had answered, a query on his mask covered face. Sounded interesting.

"There is a reason for that, it is a top secret op, need to know basis," Krueger pulled him in close on their walk through the base, stopping by the archway that lead to the rec room. "If you want in, let me know, I'll get you clearance and I'll walk you through it. If not; not harm, no foul."

König considered it, contemplated it for the rest of the day. He was feeling a bit down, his shoulder throbbed something fucking fierce every fours or so, letting him know he was still in the healing stages, still on the mend. But a cushy little desk job, keep him occupied, maybe he could get caught up on a few books he'd started and had to put down or leave behind, relax at a desk like he had when he first started out after basic. He could do something like that.

Sebastian was right; this job would keep dinner on the table and the lights on. It was simple enough as well, answer the phone when it rang and flashed burnt orange (according to Krueger this phone hadn't actually rung in two months). Monitor the actions, pay attention to the caller in need of assistance, ask the appropriate questions in order to render aid.

König brought a thermos and a water bottle full of ice. He was afforded a notepad and pen, a binder in the top right drawer of a silver desk, the left held a rolodex of people who might be calling in need.

He'd been at it for two weeks now, no phone calls, caught up on three books already as he reclined back in the softest office chair he's ever sat his behind in. Ankles locked, boots on the table reading, belly full. Then it happened.

The phone rang, a shrill sound that damn near rocked him right out of that chair! His book fell to the floor, loosing his page instantly. The orange flashed urgently as König scrambled to get out his notebook to take notes and location, the binder that held random question whoever was on Night Division duties to ask to make sure they were truly talking to who they were supposed to. The phone number as Krueger had told him was only given out to military, not a simple phone number one might find scribbled on a folded up post-it or bar napkin.

König cleared his throat and picked up the receiver, holding it tightly to his ear.

"Hallo, what is the color of the day?" König asked, clicked pen at the ready and pressed onto the first page.

"What? I don't know! I need help." A frantic woman hushed her voice into the phone, he could some shuffling and light grunting.

"Ma'am, I need the color of the day before I can assist you."

"I don't fucking know! Please help me." The woman gasped and he could hear something close.

"Miss this is a very secure line-"

"I know that. Night Division, right? My brother said if anything suspicious happened while he was deployed, I should call this number immediately. Which is what I am doing!"

"Without the color, miss-"

"Please, sir. There's two people breaking into the house, their looking for something. I don't want them to find me. There's a crawl space in my brothers' closet, that's where I am." The woman rasped, panic in her voice made König uneasy, things could get messy fast, he knew that first hand.

"I do not know your location."

"There's a rolodex in the top left drawer of your desk, my brothers' name and address are in there. And hurry!" She growled lowly.

"Name?"

"[REDACTED]."

"I'll send over someone."

"What? You're not coming?" The woman almost sounded offended, as if he had stood her up on a date or backed out of a last minute party.

"This is my station, miss. I can't leave my post, another call might come through."

The pregnant pause made him even more uneasy, as he wrote down the boyfriend's name and address with three scratches of his pen below it.

"I don't want to die like this." The woman exclaimed with a sniffle.

….

Much to König's surprise when he told his supervisors that a phone call had come in, he didn't realize that meant he was the one to answer it meant that in the very sense. Another selected Night Division advocate would take his place.

They handed him a standard service weapon, shoved a bullet proof vest to his bulky chest and sent out on his way. He even got to pick which company car from the lot. The SUV handled beautifully, the screen on the dash showing the coordinates to the Division caller. He cut the lights as he turned down the block, a quiet, wet residential street. Most of the cars were put away in their garages, all but one.

König memorized the plate, just in case things got hairy.

He could see movement in the house, shadows dancing in the low light. He narrowed his eyes, and softly exited the vehicle, approaching the house like the thieves already inside. König maneuvered around the back of the house, rolling his bad shoulder before kicking open the back door. He could hear muffled voices from inside, startled footsteps, a new magazine is put into a weapon that stands no chance against the man advancing in the darkness, especially when he flips down his night vision goggles.

"Whoever the hell you are, you owe me a new door asshole!" A raspy man calls in the dark.

"Sorry. Are you [REDEACTED]?" König asked, already knowing the answer.

"Who?"

"Didn't think so!"

König held his gun steady as rain, aimed true at one of the intruders. The man before him was crouched and steadily raising to his feet in the foyer, hands up.

"Do not do anything stupid, well more stupid than breaking into someone's house."

"Easy big guy, [REDACTED] is my brother, he asked me to check on the place while he's on vacation."

"Vacation, ja? Where to?"

"Uh Spain I believe he said." The man mumbled something.

"Then why are you in the dark? Go ahead and turn the lights." König suggested.

The man reacted by reaching behind him and swiftly pulled out a blade, the metal glinting in the darkness.

Big mistake.

Though König is on the larger scale in terms of height and weight, he is quite agile, a superb trait and bonus to his career. The blade came right at him but was easily slapped away by his gloved hand, the man reached back for another but ever the observant Austrian, he located the light switch panel next to him, flipped up his goggles and whacked the room into brightness, exposing everyone to the white hot lights. A woman tried to bum rush him and failed as she made a distressing sound when she hit the floor, her loosely held gun skidded away.

The second attempt at throwing a blade stuck to the wall beside him, König ripped it out of the dry wall and threw it back at the man in the foyer, landing perfecting in the shoulder. The man wailed out in pain, the woman scrambled for the gun only to slide it further out of reach.

König pointed his gun and undid the safety.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman looked up at his towering frame, her head jerked slightly and she slowly put her hands up. "Get your little friend and leave, you wish to wake up tomorrow do you not?"

They left without a fuss while König cleared the rest of the house. Not too much damage, the office behind the French doors was a mess though and going to be a bitch to put back in order but that wasn't his problem.

"Miss?" König called out after finishing his sweep of the first floor.

"Miss you can come out now. We talked on the phone. Night Division. You're safe now."

As he made his way up the staircase, lined with paintings of landscapes and bodies of water, the door to his immediate right swung open and the woman appeared.

"Oh!" She was startled, no doubt by his mask and head coverings, by the way he was steadily putting away his service weapon. His size in comparison to hers.

Her eyes went wide and she slightly hugged the doorframe, a baseball bat in hand. Her expression ranged from frightened, to skeptical, to calm in an ease of seconds.

"I didn't mean to startle you." König apologized.

"It's not.. sorry. You're who I spoke with. Are there more of you?" She asked peering around him, or at least what she could, clutching her cellphone and bat.

"Just me I'm afraid."

"Oh. Did you kill them?"

"Maimed."

"Good. I don't think there's enough peroxide to clean that up."

"You've cleaned up blood before?"

"You do see that I'm a woman, right? I've been cleaning up blood since I was twelve." The woman cocked her head to the side with a snort and dropped the bat down to her side.

König got the OK to clear the rest of the second floor, just in case. All was well and he followed her down the stairs, pointing out the mess the intruders had made of the office.

"You mentioned they were looking for something. Did you hear what exactly?" He asked from the doorway, watching her side steps and tip toe about the space, moving a crooked lamp, picking up a few pillows from a small futon in the corner, a woven blanket.

"Something called Eden. Does that mean anything to you?" The woman asked, putting her brothers' things back in order. The sound of shuffling papers being neatly stacked once more made for a delightful background noise.

"No but I'll look into it. You should get ready."

"You certainly cannot stay here, miss. Those two dirt bags might come back with more firepower and back up. Nein nein, you shall come with me to a safe house after a debriefing at the base." König explained, watching her face rise and fall with understanding that the man before her was right. "My superiors will want to know what you have told me."

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

König waited patiently in the office, looking at childhood photos of the woman who was pounding the floor upstairs, gathering some belongings. Her brother's Marine portrait, certificates of accomplishments and replica swords lined the wall behind the wood stained desk.

She knocked on the side of the office doorframe soon after, giving him a thumbs up.

….

"You said Eden, correct?" Kim Hong-jin or another masked man by the codename Horangi sat down with König and his charge. He was used to the cold conference room, the woman beside him, shivering and rubbing her hands before sitting upon them, did not.

Mid conversation, König shouldered off his jacket and draped it over his shoulders, dwarfing her in size. She gave him a nervous smile before continuing.

"Did they mean to hurt you, the duo?"

"I don't know. They just broken in through the side door, my brother, [REDACTED] has three entrances to his place, I got a Ring notification and hid. I'd never seen them before but they were adamant that my brother had something they wanted."

"Hmmm. We'll look into it, see what rocks we can over turn," Horangi scribbled down some information, circling a few keywords from your statement. "König; take her to the old farmhouse on 84th, hasn't been used in a beat, could use a tune up. Keep yourselves occupied until further notice." Horangi shook the woman's hand before gathering up the folder and notes. "Oh and König?"

"Ja?"

"Don't let her out of your sight."

The ride to the farmhouse was a bumpy one, the cabin of the SUV jostled the pair around, rocks and pebbles no doubt threatening with good merit to get lodged into the tread of the tires. The crooked place came into view from just the headlights, on bright of course, started to appear along the empty dirt road. There wasn't a neighbor for miles König and his partner noticed once they took their exit ramp from the highway, making sure they weren't being followed.

He held the door open for her, taking the duffel bag from her lap, flipping it over his shoulder like an afterthought.

"I never did get your name," the woman said, walking up the rocky driveway to the creaking porch as König took out the keys Horangi had given him on their way out from base. "Suppose I ought to know who I'm being shacked up with."

König snorted and put the key into the lock. "You can call me König ." "Hmm, nice ring to it if you ask me." She said, fumbling along the wall until the lights came on, showering the cozy house in a nice warm glow.

"And you are, miss?" He asked and placed her bag down on a stiff looking couch.

She spun on her heel and held out her hand in salutations. "I'm Y/N."

Even in the country light and glow of the almost yellow/orange lighting, you looked great. Not that he thought you looked bad; at all. He realized you were incredibly attractive the moment you popped out of your brothers' room, weapon and phone in hand. Hair mussed, face contorted with relief at his presence, stroking his ego.

You looked around, checking the rotary phone on a polished side table. Lifting the pewter Eiffel Tower, the fake flowers were dusty and the place reeked of mothballs.

The kitchen was decent, a little round table with a cheap plastic table cloth, four chairs with matching tied cushions.

"Not too bad," you announced after rummaging through the empty fridge. "I could live here."

"How long do you reckon we shall be out in the sticks?" König asked, more so out loud to himself than to you.

"Who knows. We'll need to go to the store in the morning, fuck all is in this place. Not even a water pitcher!"

"We will just have to take it day by day, I'm scared."

You snorted. "You're scared? You. All what? eight fuckin' miles of you. You're scared."

"I mean uh… I'm afraid. You'll forgive me, I tangle my words sometimes."

"Clearly! We should check out the rooms, I call first dibs!" You shouted, brushing past him like a child or wobbly infant, thundering your footsteps to the second floor. He could hear you exclaiming up there, bouncing on one squeaking bed in favor of the other as he locked up the house.

"Found mine, fend for yourself big guy."

He took the third room, at the top of the landing, it's bedspread reminding him of sweet grass summers. He laid there for awhile on top of the covers, telling you to keep your door open just in case. He could hear you snoring lightly, could picture the rise and fall of your breaths, timing them on his watch before he crept down the stairs, taking sudden notice that the fourth stair from the bottom creaked at just the right spot to the right.

He propped himself into an armchair by the sheer curtain covered window by the door.

Ever cautious.

Hyper aware.

He knew he wouldn't sleep and had planned on being awake as soon as Horangi sent you on your way from base.

He didn't mind.

He was being useful which filled his head with light, happy thoughts.

[hurtspideyparker]

Spideypool. Spideypool. Fluff. Like. Nice day for both.

"Oof!" a puff of air leaves Peter's mouth as he's jarred out of his sleep.

"Peteyyyyyyyy," comes the weight on his chest. "I missed you last night. You left me all alone! I only had those idiots to hang out with on patrol all night."

He pauses a moment. "Yes, I'm talking about you!" he says to himself. Well, not himself, but definitely not to Peter.

Peter brings a hand up to rub the grogginess out of his eyes, groaning and doing his best to stretch out under the all-encompassing body laying on top of him.

"Wade, I was sleeping."

"Ooo I love that morning voice. I could find deep sea fishies never before seen in that depth."

Peter sighs and closes his eyes again.

"Petey? Baby boy? You can't do this to me, I've missed you for forty years and forty nights. I just got you back. No, noooo!!!"

Two days. It's been two days.

Peter hums tiredly; there's no way he can fall back asleep with Deadpool whining in his ear.

"Wade I just finished my paper. Big, long, no-sleep paper. I went to bed 20 minutes ago."

Deadpool seems to shrink in on himself a little, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh. So you don't want the breakfast burritos I brought?"

Peter's stomach does growl at the scent of cheesy eggs and bacon, but he can't get himself to sit up (and no, it has nothing to do with the 200 pounds of muscle curled on top of him).

"Ughhh. Maybe later. I think I'm just gonna close my eyes a little longer. You can do whatever," Peter murmurs, already slipping back under.

Deadpool gasps, which really should have been Peter's first warning, before he's suddenly being pelted with dozens of kisses all over his face.

"Ah! Wade, that hehe hA that tickles!"

Deadpool's lips are quick yet deadly, the light brush of them feather light. When they travel down his cheek to his jawline Peter tilts his head back in laughter, giving full access for his neck to be attacked next. That really gets him, a big gasping laugh jerked out of him at the tickling of his weak spot above his Adam's apple, and next thing he knows they're tumbling off the side of the bed in a tangle of giggles and bedsheets.

Peter lands on Deadpool this time, his strong arms immediately wrapping around Peter in a warm support.

"Oh my god..." Peter says breathlessly with the last dregs of laughter. "What was that?!"

"You said do whatever, and I wanted to kiss all your cute little freckles."

Deadpool presses one last kiss to the tip of Peter's nose, "there, got em all!"

The kiss-drunk man hides his blooming cheeks into the softness of Deadpool's chest, rubbing against the material of his dark hoodie.

"Mm. That's cool..." his voice fades out.

"Petey?"

Soft snores come in reply.

Deadpool looks down at the tuffs of unruly curls and pulls Peter closer to him.

"Welp, guess I'll stay here then."

Deadpool settles into the floor like the perfect boyfriend pillow he is.

[wisteria-lodge]

Wait, do you think Tom Riddle made himself ugly on purpose so he didn't look like his dad? That never occurred to me. I always just assumed it was a side effect of all the weird shit he was doing and he didn't care much as long as he became more powerful. So many time travel fix-it fics I've read have him horrified in particular that he is hideous in the future.

I think Tom Riddle has a deeply ambivalent relationship with his own extraordinary beauty.

Like, okay. He has the same name as his (muggle) father, and looks exactly like his (muggle) father. Apart from being a muggle, the most important thing about Tom Riddle Sr. is that he's very, very pretty. It's why Merope targets him. So right away, the books make Tom Riddle's looks... kind of a negative.

We also know that Tom sheds his "filthy muggle father's name" at the first possible opportunity. But those looks... he needs those looks, at least for now.

I think that Orphanage!Tom is a good snapshot of what he looks like in his natural, comfortable resting state:

"He scares the other children.” “You mean he is a bully?” asked Dumbledore. (...) “There have been incidents. . . . Nasty things . . . Billy Stubbs’s rabbit . . . well, Tom said he didn’t do it and I don’t see how he could have done, but even so, it didn’t hang itself from the rafters, did it?”

Tom enjoys feeling powerful. He's going to take what he wants (ie young Tom's trinket collection) and everyone around him is just going to let him... because they're scared of him. Also he's kind of a sadist.

The problem is, Tom's NOT powerful at Hogwarts, at least not at first. He can't scare people into doing things for him anymore, and so he needs another strategy.

So, Hogwarts!Tom becomes a CHARMER. He charms Ginny and his school mates. He hits the "sir" incredibly hard when talking to his professors. We're told that "Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty." He plays Slughorn like a violin:

“But you obviously know all about [horcruxes], sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can’t tell me, obviously — I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could — so I just thought I’d ask —” It was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone.

Tom also does things like - pay attention to Slughorn's food preferences, so he can get him the perfect gift (candied pineapple.)

And well. That ability to charm people is related to his looks. They're brought up almost every time he is: Tom is the "clever, handsome boy," an "unusually talented and good-looking orphan, he naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff." The link between his beauty and his power becomes text (rather than subtext) during the Hepzibah Smith segment:

Harry thought he saw a red gleam in [Tom's] dark eyes. His greedy expression was curiously mirrored on Hepzibah’s face, except that her tiny eyes were fixed upon Voldemort’s handsome features.

It's pretty clear what's going on. Tom wants Hepzibah's magical trinkets, and Hepzibah... wants Tom. (and she wants him because he's beautiful.) We get an unusually detailed description of him here:

He was plainly dressed in a black suit; his hair was a little longer than it had been at school and his cheeks were hollowed, but all of this suited him; he looked more handsome than ever.

Hepzibah's attraction is framed as "greed." It's negative, almost threatening, she's looking at Tom like she wants to eat him. The section goes out of it's way to frame Hepzibah as unappealing and unattractive... but her "naughty boy" Tom is still kissing "Miss Hepzibah's" hand, and bringing her flowers. Then she casually pinches his cheek.

Tom is getting nothing out of this soft-seduction. He actually seems to be working very hard not to take up space. He "murmurs," or else speaks "quietly." (He's described as speaking "quietly" four times, and it's not a long scene.) He "picks" his way through the room, "smiled mechanically," and the narrative voice makes a point to say that when he reaches for the locket after his eyes flash red, he did it "without invitation this time," - implying that he is accustomed to asking for permission, positioning himself as less powerful than the person he's talking to.

He honestly seems very happy to just drop the pretense... and just publicly be the scary bastard he always was underneath. Tom walks into Dumbledore's office to ask for a job, and is just incredibly direct. At this point, he's halfway to full snakiness, and not as pretty as he once was:

"His features were not (...) as snakelike, the eyes were not yet scarlet, the face not yet masklike, and yet he was no longer handsome Tom Riddle. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a permanently bloody look, though the pupils were not yet the slits that Harry knew they would become."

But he also seems much more powerful, much more confident, much more comfortable in his skin. Now when he smiles it's a "taut leer, an evil thing, more threatening than a look of rage." He "sneers," he stands above Dumbledore and gives him a hard time, and in general seems very proud of himself.

“You call it ‘greatness,’ what you have been doing, do you?” asked Dumbledore delicately. “Certainly,” said Voldemort, and his eyes seemed to burn red. “I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed —”

We also have a moment with full-snake Risen Voldemort, and his response to his own new body is completely positive:

He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant.

Tom then goes on to have a WONDERFUL time until things go south - monologuing, torturing Peter, casting spells on Harry to force him to bow...

So my take on this is that Tom likes and even prefers his Snakey body. It means he no longer has to play the subservient charmer (he CAN'T.) It is physical proof of his own brilliance, his own power, his own experimentation. He no longer looks like his muggle father, he has shed the muggle side of himself completely. It's probably also a body that needs less food, less sleep, feels less pain etc. I'm basing this off Ralph Fiennes' decision not to wear shoes as Voldemort, but it fits with his MO: he wants to be MORE than human, he wants to shed his weaknesses and achieve some kind of immortality and transhumanism.

Now the question is - was his Snakey appearance an accidental/unavoidable side effect of the "dangerous magical transformations" that left him "barely recognizable" - or was Voldemort actively seeking out something that would change how he looked? Honestly, I could see that going either way. But I'm inclined to think that he *did* at least sign off on this appearance... just because all those Snakey!Tom transformation beats are about being in control. That is what he's doing here, showing off just how much control he has over his body, and his world.

[demigoddreamer]

Link Click Yingdu was so much fun!!!! I was not prepared for the mindfuckery the show would do to me but now I'm so intrigued about the 3rd season.

Obv Bridon left some open ends that will probably be answered later down the line when they become more relevant. It's a time travel show after all but with so many diverse powers and different character motivations and multiple players manipulating oh my god.

Lu Guang killing Vein...that makes sense and yeah we definitely figured Lu Guang is pretty morally gray and willing to do anything for Cheng Xiaoshi. I just find it heart-wrenching because this is just another sign that Lu Guang can't fathom living without him T_T

Cheng Xiaoshi's mother doing the same thing for Cheng Xiaoshi's father as Lu Guang is doing for him is actually insane. God I love thematic parallels that tear my heart. Also I think she pointed out Lu Guang's interference????? wonder if that's gonna cause trouble for the both of them.

ALSO VEIN'S REAL NAME BEING XIAO WEIYING????????? damn bro you less intimidating now, jk jk i love you still Vein. I'm so curious on why Xia Fei disappeared(and why is Jack(NPC ass) disappearing as well?) maybe to get more answers because clearly Xia Fei cares for Vein in some capacity.

Liu Xiao masterminding in the background oh boy. What are you gonna do hat boy? What are you gonna do...

Cheng Xiaoshi keeping secrets of his own is getting juicier cause now it feels slightly more equal playing field on who in the group got the anwers(Cheng Xiaoshi still losing but it's alright my baby I love you, I believe in you)

And how is Qiao Ling gonna play into this with her new powers? How is Li Tianchen gonna play into this with his powers and being manipulated by Liu Xiao???????? Also Vein's still alive too!!!!

Anyway this season was super fun and answered some things but not all of them so I'm really hyped for season 3 and I'm glad season 3 is longer

[midnight-mourning]

Sweet Seas

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 1💘💘

Starting out strong with some fish! And by strong i mean this is very syrupy sweet/fluffy, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Tempest coming in once again with the fish. How about a scuba diver yn with a houseboat? Fish boys trying chocolate for the first time with yn? Maybe catching special fish for them?

Word Count: 2498

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

The wind sweeps up your hair through the open window, making you clutch onto your hat with your free hand. You glance back down to your map, making sure you're at the right coordinates. You swore this was the right spot. If it's not, you'll be a little more than stressed about it. Though, you're sure that if it came down to it, they'd find you before you'd find them again. 

Still, you'd only been planning on a brief trip back to land, just to refuel, stock up on food, and so on. And get your mail. Which there was lots of. Much more than you'd have thought. Though, it'd been a month or so, and with Valentine's day around the corner, you should have expected it. All your family and friends had sent their gifts early, like to make sure you'd receive them in time. 

One of the initial cons to living out on your little houseboat was the lack of proper communication between you and the outside world, but you'd made it work for the most part. Besides, at this point you don't think you could go back to a normal day job, pencil pushing at a desk all day. No thanks. 

Being out on the open ocean, documenting the sea life you came across up close and reporting back your first hand accounts, you'd take that any day. The crisp sea air, the sparkling waters all around you, the shining stars at night, it was perfect. 

A loud thump on the other end of the boat resounds throughout, just slightly rocking you. 

There was also the added fact of the matter that if you returned to land again, two certain someone's would be a little more than displeased about it. 

It had been an accident, coming across the two mers during your travels. You didn't even know they were real, much less that they could be giant sea creatures. All hiding down below the surface of that vast expanse. 

Why these two had decided to befriend you as opposed to making you a light snack, you still weren't sure yourself. Rather, after the initial shock on both sides, they'd seemingly grown rather fond of you, as you had them. Exchanging stories and laughter and the likes.

Both were rather large fans of affection and the likes, fighting over head scratches and forehead kisses. They loved to bring you things, as well, you'd noticed. Initially lots and lots of fish, though once you explained you had your own food they switched to things like shells or random human things that had sunk below. But also more fish—alive this time—for your research. 

You'd documented this in your own private research, especially their reactions to your reactions to the gifts. They always seemed to be seeking approval for some reason, and you were always sure to give it, but they seemed to be looking for something, more. You just weren't sure yet as to what. 

Another thump pulls you out of your thoughts. You grin to yourself, switching your controls to off so that you're now simply drifting along, and hurry outside. 

At first you don't see any sign of either of them. But then there's another thump, a little larger. This time you wobble on your feet and scowling as you scan around. Off to your left you see the edge of a yellow fin just barely peeking above the railing's edge. Another knock, and you hear snickering. 

You huff, but play along. "Well, I wonder what in the world that knocking could be. I sure hope I haven't run along a reef."

"Do it again, again!" You hear a not-so hushed whisper from the yellow fin's direction. 

Again, the boat rocks. You're not impressed. 

You sigh, turning as if to head back inside. "I guess I have no choice but to turn back then. What a shame, I was so excited to see the boys too." 

You stomp as if to head back to the controls and wait, listening. 

"They're, they're leaving!" Panic now. 

Another voice, harsher in its whispering. "It's a trick! They would never."

You hear an argument begin to form and you make your way to the railing, peeking over with a smug smirk. 

"You know, if you're going to pull a prank, maybe speaking in a language I can understand isn't your best idea. And also hiding a bit better would help too."

Both the mers in the water whip to look at you. 

"Told you." The blue and white one grumbles, though he appears undeniably relieved.

The sunny one ignores him, instead jumping up to grab the railing to meet you eye to eye. It forces you to step back to avoid getting headbutt by his much larger face. Water splashes all around him, and the resulting swells rock your boat, Sun oblivious as ever to his own strength and size. 

"Sunbeam! You're finally back!" He chirps, causing you to laugh. He sets his elbows on the railing, looking at you expectantly. 

You shake your head and reach out to give him scratches and such. You swear you think you hear him begin to purr as you stand on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead. "And you're already begging for attention, color me surprised."

Moon makes room for himself beside the other mer. "To be fair, it's been several days."

"Don't act like you didn't follow me as far as you could." You scoff, switching to give the lunar mer pets now, much to Sun's displeasure. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Moon tsks, but revels in the attention just as much. "You certainly acted like it."

"Oh, did someone have to find food for himself for once?" You coo, planting a kiss to his cheek as he grumbles. 

Sun whines, either from lack of attention or being called out, hard to say. "It was terrible, Sunshine! Just the worst."

"Well you're both still alive and well, so I think you fended for yourselves just fine." 

Their shared grins all but confirm such, and you sigh as you step back again. "You're lucky I like you both so well, otherwise I wouldn't be sharing the candy I got while I was gone."

They watch as you enter the nearest door, snatching up your Valentine's gifts and coming back out to the deck to sit and open them. 

"Candy? Nothing like that sharp stuff from last time, right?" Sun scrunches his features. 

You chuckle. "No, no pop rocks this time,"—You hold up a heart shaped-box—"Chocolate! I think it's fish-safe." You examine the ingredients list, muttering more to yourself. "At least I think so."

You open the package and pop a chocolate into your mouth, savoring it. "Man, I love Valentine's day. Here, go long." You pick out a piece and raise your arm. Sun checks the memo, and mouth wide, you toss the chocolate his way. His jaw opens and snaps shut in an instant, and as he chews the—relatively small piece in comparison to himself—his eyes widen. 

"Good right?" You ask, doing the same for Moon. 

Sun nods rapidly, with Moon humming in agreement. 

You continue to indulge and share, opening your letters and valentine's cards. 

"Why are all your letters red and pink?" Moon asks, features quizzical. 

You snap your fingers. "Shoot! I didn't explain what Valentine's is, did I?"

Both mers shake their heads. 

You briefly give a rundown on the holiday, the traditions, and so on. They listen intently as you explain, soaking up all the information they could, as usual. 

"So when someone gives things like chocolate, cards, and so on, that means they're saying they love the recipient, right?" Sun questions slowly, uncertain. 

You nod, tossing another candy his way and eating a piece of your own. "Pretty much!" 

At this both mers turn to each other, voices hushed as they speak in that tongue you've not even begun to try and decipher. They seem rather excited about whatever it is they're talking about though. 

You're about to inquire as to what they're discussing when Sun suddenly disappears under the water, leaving you with just Moon. 

"Oh, leaving already?" You're surprised, you'd have thought they'd hang around longer since you'd been gone. 

Moon chuckles, there's an atypical lightness to it. "Not quite. How would you feel about a swim, Sweetfin?"

"As long as it's not too cold." You say, standing up with a stretch. "Give me a few to put this all away and change."

"Take your time." He drawls. 

You head inside, put everything away, and get into your wetsuit. When you walk back out on deck, you're flabbergasted at the sight before you. 

In a—rather large—pile are an assortment of 'treasures' as the mers had insisted upon calling them. Dozens of shells, sea glass, and more was piled up on your deck

 Before you can say anything there's a splash and Sun emerges from the water with even more to add to the pile, beaming upon noticing you. 

You're bewildered. "What's all this?"

"You got us something, it was only fair that we return the favor! Though, we've been trying for some time now, but it's good to know that's how it works with humans! Not that it matters now, but still."

Your brows furrow. "...How what works with humans?"

"Courting of course! If we knew it was a mutual exchange of gifts we would have been more patient." Sun chuckles

It takes a moment, then it all clicks into place for you. That's what all the gifts had meant. They'd been, trying to—your face starts to burn. Partly from embarrassment, partly from your own foolishness for not realizing sooner. You're also, incredibly flattered. You'd had a bit of crush, but had brushed it off because it seemed improbable that they'd feel the same. 

You shake your head, nodding as you start putting on your diving gear. "Right. Makes sense. My um, apologies for not responding sooner." You notice then that Moon's missing. "What happened to Moon?"

"He's waiting down below, we have something we want to show you." 

You glance up, eyes narrow. "What's 'something'?"

Sun's smirk reveals nothing. Hand tracing the water as you hop up onto the railing. "Something you'll really like, that's all."

"Well now I'm a bit suspicious, but I guess I'll go along with it." You adjust your goggles and your mask.

Once you're situated, Sun offers his hand to gently lower you in the water, coming face to face with a snicker. "Good. You weren't going to have much a choice, Starshine."

You shoot him a glare, but allow him to lead you down into the depths. You swim across large reefs brimming with fish, around vents and past seagrass forests. It stops being familiar territory after a bit, the terrain becoming rockier, and semi barren. At a certain point, Sun looks back to you and points to your tank, then down. 

You give a thumbs up, and he nods. 

You end up at the entrance to a massive cave, and after a moment Moon appears from the cave mouth. He and Sun chitter back and forth to each other, then Moon takes your other hand and they both take you inside. Upon entering, it's initially pretty dark, save for the glow of their eyes and fins. But going deeper a glow starts to appear all around you, and the cave grows wider until it opens up wider. 

Looking up, you can see there's an air pocket in space above you. You're not too far below the surface, and the boys seem fine as they break the water, so you do the same. Peeking out above the water, you find a massive open space, filled with various trinkets and the likes. On the ceiling above you, various plants emit a soft glow, similar to the glow in the water around you. 

You swim over to the edge of the pool, and with a bit of help, hop up onto it.

With a bit of hesitation, you remove your mask and are—thankfully—pleasantly surprised to take in a bit of breathable air. 

"This is, beautiful..." You look all around you. "How'd you find this place?"

Moon snickers, getting partly out of the water to sit next to you. His arm pulls you into his side and you feel your face warm again. "It's our home. You've shared yours with us for so long, it's only right we share ours."

"S-share?"

"Only if you'd like. Whenever you'd like." Sun rests his head in your lap, grin sharp. "Though we're hoping that will be often."

You put a hand up to hide your face. All this because of some Valentine's chocolate. You're not opposed, but you do feel overwhelmed, and guilty for not catching on sooner. Not to mention having given nothing in return beside a few measly pieces of candy. 

"Is everything alright, Star?" Moon asks. 

You nod. "It's, great, trust me. I just feel awful that you've been working so hard to... impress me, and I've gotten you nothing in return." You put up a hand as they start to take up for you. "No, really. I gave you a couple of tiny bits of chocolate! I'm gonna make it up to you. I promise. Whatever you'd like, consider it done."

"It's not necessary." Moon scoffs.

You shake your head. "It is!"

You bicker back and forth, then Sun clears his throat, grabbing your attention. 

"Well, there is something you can do..." He trails off, then looks but looks up to you with puppy eyes. 

Immediately you know exactly what he's thinking. "Oh, you're serious aren't you? They're an endangered species!"

"You said borderline! Pretty please? I'll give you the prettiest pearl I can find!" Sun takes your hand, kissing your wrist then snuggling into it. It doesn't slip by you how Moon's hold on your waist tightens just a tinge. Neither does the slight grin that flashes across Sun's features for a moment as he continues his actions.

You shake your head at their antics. Honestly, how you didn't catch on sooner is beyond you. 

"This is supposed to be my gift to you, silly. I'm the one in debt here." You sigh, folding near immediately. "Fine. But only a handful, that's it. If you eat them all up, there won't be any left."

Sun cheers, and Moon chuckles. "It's appreciated, Sweetfin."

"Told you they'd give in eventually." Sun snickers and you gasp. 

Moon's laughter rumbles against you. "You were right, I shouldn't have doubted their adoration. Or the tenderness of their heart."

You scowl at the two of them, grumbling as they coo and fawn over you to make up for their deceit. In all reality, you don't mind too much, you feel it's justified considering they've been trying so long to make their feelings clear to you. 

And now, you'd make yours clear to them.

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you @rosescarletful for the adorable little prompt! I had a lot of fun with the environments for this one, and making the fish very flirty and such hehe ^^

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

The Island: Entry 1

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

A Lost AU

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Gore, Violence, Swearing, Death, Alcohol, Plane Crash, Various Inaccuracies

Authors note and TW: This story does depict a plane crash in quite a lot of it so please be aware 💛 especially now with all of the recent accidents worldwide, just wanting to put an extra precaution out there so as not to surprise or upset anyone!

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18+ Only

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A roaring sound roused Bradley from a dream, a dream where he was souring through the air in his favourite F/A-18, the sunset beautifully cast along the ocean below, someone behind him lovingly squeezing his shoulder, someone he longed for but whom didn’t know yet.




The roaring sound blared loudly even from far away, and Bradley strained to open his eyes, the bright light burning his sensitive retina. He covered his eyes as he sat up, his bed hard and lumpy, and he blinked several times to adjust.




Suddenly he realised his bed wasn’t a bed after all, but a stony jungle floor, matted with rotting leaves and sand and soil.




Bradley looked around, confused and dazed and trying to find the source of the horrible noise. He was surrounded by trees and the stark stench of leaf rot, the faint smell of the sea and… jet fuel.




He realised suddenly that the roaring wasn’t even that, it was a whirring, the sound of a jet engine struggling to keep itself in the air. But was it in the air?




By the volume and steadiness of the sound Bradley could only think the engine was no longer in the sky, and he scrambled to his feet as vague memories began to come back to him.




His leg was badly bruised and he thought he may have a broken rib or two, but he scrambled through the jungle as fast as his body would take him, the noise growing louder.




As he neared, he began to hear screaming, so much screaming, now just audible over the jet roar as the thick of the jungle turned to sparse bush, and Bradley fought to keep himself composed, braving himself for what he might see.




The beach was long and windy, blue ocean stretched on for what seemed like forever, and Bradley quickly realised he wasn’t on any sort of mainland. Bodies littered the white sand and the front of the plane, pinned onto its side by a boulder, sat ablaze, towering, the engine angrily trying to keep itself alive.




Bradley took but a split second to take in the damage, panic so close to taking hold, when he spotted Jake Seresin crawling out of the sea, coughing and spluttering as he collapsed to the sand.




He ran over to him, quickly helping his friend further up onto the sand and away from the water.




“Hangman…” was all Bradley could get out.




Jake coughed again, taking deep, painful breaths as he lay on his back. “Where’s…” another cough, “where’s everyone else?” He just barely murmured over the noise.




Bradley knew he meant the rest of the boys they had been travelling with.




Bob, Javy, Reuben and Mickey.




“I don’t know… I’ll be back.” Bradley left Jake to gain his strength as he stumbled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his side.




He took a second to watch the chaos, people screaming over lost loved ones, running to get as far from the wreckage as they could before it inevitably exploded, others helping the injured, or rescuing suitcases from inside the burning hull.




He walked closer to the plane, hoping to recognise someone, anyone, when the sun glinted against a familiar pair of glasses.




“Bob!” Bradley cried hoarsely.




Bob couldn’t hear him, too close to the engine, helping a woman free her leg from a heavy metal beam.




“Bob!” Bradley called louder this time, “You gotta move!”




Bob lifted his head and relief washed over him as his eyes landed on Bradley.




“Help me move her!” Bob called, and Bradley hesitantly eyed up the wing of the plane that hovered and bowed treacherously over Bob’s head.




“Fuck.” Bradley mumbled to himself as he limped quickly towards Bob, dropping to his knees with a wince once by his side.




After a quick assessment of the situation, the leg pinned and pierced to the ground, Bradley grabbed Bob’s shoulder.




“We gotta dig her out, and we gotta do it quick, this thing’s about to collapse.”




Bob nodded and the pair began to dig into the sand beneath the woman’s injured thigh, little by little lowering her leg out of the bar that pierced through it.




The wing groaned under its own weight and the breeze that tormented it, threatening to snap off at any second, the sound mingling with the woman’s agonising cries.




“Faster!” Bradley grunted as he cupped the sand and threw it to the side with a speed that left him dizzy, the movements worsening the pain he was in.




The woman screamed as her leg slid off the bar and blood sprayed out, covering Bob and Bradley. They hooked their arms in hers quickly, shuffling backwards in the sand to pull her to safety.




Barely out from beneath the shadow of the wing, a large creak and snap echoed across the beach as the wing buckled under its own weight, plummeting with a deafening crash onto the ground below.




Bob and Bradley watched in horror mere feet away. Even a couple of seconds more and they would have met their untimely end.




Bradley was having a hard time coming to to grips with the situation, barely even able to remember what had happened before the crash, and he felt dazed.




“Rooster, Bob!” Another familiar voice rang out, Reuben.




The pair sighed with some sort of relief as the tall man helped them to their feet, pulling them in for a hug.




“Shit guys, I thought you were gone.” Reuben’s voice cracked, audible even over the chaos.




“We… we need to move her to the shade, see if there are any doctors or…” Bob stopped to wipe blood from his face, staring at his hand in shock.




“Yeah, help me move her.” Bradley winced as he bent down to hook his arms under the unconscious woman’s armpits. Bob carefully hooked his arms under her good leg and they haphazardly carried her to the trees.




Placing her gently down, Bradley left Bob with her so he could try and find someone who could help.




Bob was already prepping a tourniquet with some fabric and a stick, and he spotted Jake and Reuben by the shore, turning bodies over and trying to separate the dead from the living, helping where they could.




Javy and Mickey were nowhere to be seen, but there were so many people, dead and alive, scattered across the sand, that it would be difficult to differentiate faces, especially in the state he was in.




People screamed through the pain of broken limbs and burns and cuts and his eyes drew him across the beach, scanning over as many faces as he could, and that’s when he spotted you, down in the distance.




You were beautiful but frantic, hair a mess and clothes bloodied, as you tied a piece of ripped fabric carefully around a little boys arm to stop him from bleeding.




You winced as the boy cried, Bradley couldn’t hear you but he could see you apologising, telling the boy you had to tie it tight for just a little while.




Without realising he was moving, Bradley began to stumble over to you, stepping over discarded suitcases and debris, the deafening sound of the engine mangled painfully with the agony in the voices of people crying for help in the jungle and at the shore.




“You’re gonna be okay… you’re gonna be okay.” You mumbled, unsure of yourself, as you stroked the little boys head, “I’m gonna find your mom, you just need to stay here. Okay? By this tree.”




The boy wailed inconsolably, dirty face streaked with tears.




Bradley winced as he knelt down next to you, forcing a smile at the little boy, “Wow, look at you! You’re so brave, you’re gonna have a cool scar to show off to your friends real soon.”




The little boy slowly stopped crying and looked up at Bradley curiously. You did the same, taking a second to breathe as he spoke.




“You can tell people you fought off a tiger.” Bradley winked, and the little boy began to giggle.




You eyed Bradley up suspiciously but we’re also relieved to have some help.




“Hey, you stay here, I just gotta borrow your friend for a moment okay?” The boy nodded and Bradley struggled to his feet, clutching briefly at his side. You looked at the blood on his t-shirt, wondering how badly he was injured.




“Oh… it’s… it’s not me.” He winced again, one eye closed as he fought through a wave of pain, “There’s a lady up there with a through-and-through pole wound to her leg, there’s a lot of blood but one of my guys has got her in a makeshift tourniquet. I guess I was hoping you’re a doctor?” He asked anxiously.




You nodded, “Well… not a people doctor, I’m a Veterinarian.” You had been in practice for 5 years, but you were still always unsure of yourself.




“That will be fine, we just need someone with more experience than we do.” Bradley nodded, hands on his hips. In the chaos, you and Bradley stood just staring at one another for a moment, almost relishing in the brief peace it brought.




“Well… I’m gonna need to find a sewing kit, I reckon a lot of these people will need it.” You made a start towards the blazing hull where the scattered suitcases lay a strewn. He followed you, hoping you’d give him instructions or tell him to do anything that would make him feel less lost.




“Anything else?” Bradley rose his voice as you and him got closer to the whirring engine.




“Any medicine you can find, even if it belongs to someone, we can divvy out important meds later, but we need a stockpile of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories.” You were using your logical brain now. You knew even if you were going to be rescued, it would likely be a few days, if not longer before anyone came, and people were going to get sick or infected. “And alcohol… lots of it.”




“Okay… Wait, what’s your name?” Bradley called out as you walked away.




You turned and gave him a soft smile, something steady in the chaos, “Y/N, but you can just call me Doc. What’s yours?”




Bradley grinned through the pain, “Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”




You chuckled, “I won’t ask.” And with that you turned to find a sewing kit amongst the debris.




Bradley was sure his heart was racing because of the agony he was in, not because of you… he was sure of it.




—————————




*Flashback*




“Sorry, excuse me.” You pardoned yourself as you shuffled past rows of seats with your clunky carryon, trying to make your way through the busy airplane isle to stow your bag above your seat.




You had gotten an earlier flight home from Sydney than expected, the job interview you had been so excited for having not gone to plan. You were frustrated and irritable but in a way you were glad to be going home.




You stowed your carryon above you seat, and plonked down heavily, a deep sigh as you relaxed into the cheap fabric. You hadn’t had much sleep since arriving in Australia, which you wanted to chalk up to jet lag, but surely that would make you want to sleep more? It was likely the anxiety of the looming interview, and that if you got the job you’d be uprooting your entire life to move, but it would have meant big things for your career.




You were beyond disappointed when you showed up and the owner of the practise turned out to be a pervert. You had never felt like you’d wanted to crawl out of your own skin until that day, when he implied on several occasions during your interview that you’d need to keep him happy to get anywhere in his workplace, and to put the icing on the cake, his hand found your rear end shamelessly as he showed you out.




“I do hope you’ll accept our offer and join us, sweetheart.” He’d winked at you as you left, his beady eyes grotesquely eyeing up your behind.




You’d immediately booked your flight home, feeling as though you’d wasted a trip but desperately wanting to get out of there, despite how beautiful the country was and how you longed to spend the week on a beach.




You closed your eyes as the flight took off, hoping for sleep to find you.




You must have dozed off, because before you knew it you blinked your eyes open and the plane was darker, cosy ambient lighting dowsing the whole cabin in soft orange. You closed your eyes again, body stiff but eyes heavy, keen on getting a few more hours sleep.




Your throat tickled, and you coughed softly into your arm to clear it, settling back and stretching, trying to find a comfortable position.




The scratchy feeling continued, and you tried to discreetly clear your throat without making too much noise, but you couldn’t, so you opened your eyes and took a sip of water from your bottle.




A few others coughed, and your first thought was that someone had brought a cold onto the plane and you groaned internally. You swallowed to try and coat your dry throat, but you began to cough more, alongside almost everyone on the plane.


Suddenly there was a commotion at the front of your section and someone jumped out of their seat.




“Fire! There’s a fire!” The man shouted.




You realised with horror that the soft orange lighting was not ambient LED strips but rather a fire in the hostess kitchen, and you coughed on the smoke that began to fill the cabin.




You unbuckled your seatbelt quickly, standing at your seat and readying yourself to help extinguish the flames if it came to it, blanket at hand.




The air hostess’ rushed to the kitchen and were quick to put the fire out, apologising to the passengers as they passed by and wafted the thick smoke towards the vents in the ceiling.




A few seconds later, interrupting the distressed murmurs of the stressed out passengers, the beep of the intercom sounded and the captains voice echoed throughout the cabin.




“Sorry folks, it appears there may have been a small fire in the hold caused by a faulty wire, which had spread to one of the hostess kitchens, but the fire has been put out and there does not appear to be anything other than superficial damage. Complimentary drinks will now be served as an apology. Please rest assured everything is-“




Before he could finish his sentence, the plane jerked violently, sending several hostess’ into the laps of passengers and a collective yelp sounded.




You quickly sat back into your seat, your heart in your throat as you fumbled with the buckle. “Shit, come on.” You mumbled as the buckle kept slipping out, refusing to click into place.




Another violent bout of turbulence sent bags flying out of the stow holds, knocking some unconscious in their seats. People began to scream and you continued to fumble with your seatbelt.




“Everyone please get back to your seats!” An air hostess tried to instruct calmly, “It’s just a bit of turbulence as we go over the pacific-“




Another big bump and she went crashing backwards, hitting her head on the wall and she fell unconscious to the ground. It was now full blown chaos, people screaming and clambering over seats, buckling in unconscious loved ones, trying not to fall over as the turbulence grew more and more violent.




Your seat belt was not playing nicely, it had finally clipped in, but now the tightening buckle wasn’t holding in place, causing the belt to slip. You pulled the belt tight and held it in your hand as best as you could, hoping it would be enough to pin you to your seat.




You could feel the plane plummeting, and your bum lifting off of the seat as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to drown out the screams of panicked passengers.




Suddenly there was deafening snap and your breath was sucked out of you, as the side of plane tore off. Your eyes shot open in terror and you caught a brief glimpse of blue and then green before you blacked out completely.




—————————

- Entry 2 Coming Soon -

Taglist:

@randomfangirlof @scarletseresin @halflifejess @bradshawbaby

[k0nanharv3y]

Robin Hood Au

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

///

In fact, it all starts with a message

"I need help"

A number known but not added

"Young Detective. Is good to hear from you again"

Tim knew what he was doing, he had proof, he just... he just needed help

"Batman is alive"

Because he was. Batman was still alive

And Tim was willing to sign a deal with the devil to prove it

///

The next few months were tough, he never imagined following his parents' legacy of traveling the world looking for specific artifacts to prove something

To prove that Batman was alive. Every night, he would look up at the sky and mentally note the stars he couldn't see from Gotham. Every day, he would get up and search for more proof. Ra's always spoke to him with satisfaction in his voice, for having won, for having Tim at his disposal, for having power over the one who managed to defeat him

And Tim knew he wasn't getting out of there. He knew that even if he brought Batman back (which he would, it's not an "if" it's a "when"), Batman would be more focused on getting better, on his family, he wouldn't... he wouldn't give a shit if the guy who brought him to this time was safe

He never cared, he never would, Tim had made peace with that, he would never have anyone, and Tim was okay with that

And then he saved the League of Assassins frome the Spiders, and... And he brought Batman back. He sent every single piece of evidence to the Justice League and to the Batcave... and yes, Ra's was creepy, and he had his spleen somewhere in these complexes that imprisoned him, but... it wasn't that bad, was it? He had support, he had security, food, a bathroom, every need was met...

And maybe if he told himself that enough, he would convince himself that this wasn't so bad

And then Ra's began to want him as his heir, he began to be more intolerable, more authoritarian, more imposing, more possessive, more... Evil. And Tim could only think of escape, of running away, of how this was wrong. And... and he did

Holding the dagger that Ra's himself gave him

He managed to finish this

Feeling the blood run down and stain his sandals

He could escape, he could flee, the League was no longer a threat to him

His hands trembled, still remembering the smoothness with which the dagger had slid across the skin

For no one, actually

Anyone who entered would have a sublime spectacle

Ra's was gone

Ra's was dead

And now Talia was in charge

Because his father was murdered at the hands of the one who would be his heir

The woman looked at him impressed, before nodding and putting her hands on the boy's bare shoulder

"You are allowed to go, Young Detective, your debts have been settled with me"

Tim shivered until he let out a sigh and the next thing was a blur. Because he was in Gotham now, with different clothes and the dagger weighing pounds in his pocket. He doesn't understand why Talia let him go, he doesn't understand how he's in Gotham, he doesn't understand what he's doing in Drake Manor

The lawn is trimmed like the day Tim left, the house looks clean from the outside, and the “For Sale” sign is covered by “Sold” tape

His chest sags as he scales the wall with a muscle memory that makes him dizzy and wanders to the tree beside the window that led to his room and stands still in his place

The adrenaline that has been running through his system for years seems to run out as soon as his hands touch the bark and he collapses on the grass

And now what's next?

He wonders after spending hours curled up in the tree. Feeling like the 9-year-old boy who was going to stalk Batman and Robin with a camera

What is his next big mission?

And for the first time, his mind seems quiet

///

Part 5?????

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 9: you'll hate me

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.”

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway, things are different now, too.”

---

You could never hate him. After years of waiting to see Tsumiki again, you can finally do so now. Yet still, there's a sombreness in the air, and Megumi won't let you place a finger on it just yet.

word count: ~3k; tws: none for now ^-^

short a/n: hi everyone! I'm so sorry this took so so long, I really missed you all a lot. basically, school and life got a bit busy, but I'm happy to say I'm back now :). I've written an update here where I just talked about some matters regarding the series and my writing. you can read it if you'd like, because personally I think it's quite important for you to do so if you read this fic :)

28-6-2018 

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” 

Megumi moves the blanket away from him, blinking sleep out of his eyes still. You hoist yourself up until your back is against the headboard. 

“The blanket wasn’t here before I fell asleep, I think,” he voices out, nearly inaudible, drenched in the aftermath of a deep slumber, “Did you—” 

You nod your head.  

“...thanks.” 

At this moment, it’s as if nothing exists. Just you and him and the sky at blue hour, on his bed doing something that people who are just friends shouldn’t do. The urge to trace over his face— over his shut eyelids and sharp nose and thin lips— clings to you like a second nature, one which you never thought you had. There’s hair on his head like a nest you’re itching to touch, spiky and jet black like blades of grass. 

You’ve seen this kind of movie before, felt these feelings with your best friend, no less— and now they’ll eat you up from the inside like bacteria on a rotting fruit. Because feeling like this means feeling everything else assault you all at once: you don’t know if you'd like to bury your face into something and scream, or cry from the fact that it may be unrequited, or jump around in joy for everything good Megumi has done for you. 

But forget the sorcerers, forget the healing, forget the cursed techniques and the need to be useful and needed for one second, forget your parents, forget Tsumiki, even— and you can’t believe you thought that. What can they offer which you can’t find next to him, right now, on a warm twilight with cold blankets and pillows? 

There are so many things you have wanted. But right now, just this is enough. 

“Sometimes I regret talking about how I feel, being emotional and things like that— to the point that if I feel things strongly, these days I try not to show them. It’s… the vulnerability, I guess. Letting your walls down. I know it sounds super cliche, and I know that about 80% of the time I probably fail at this, and that it’s not always good being like that—” stirring him further into consciousness, “—but I think you’re the same, just in a different way. You don’t like talking about your feelings. Still, I have to say, I really enjoy this, these things we do.” 

His gaze stays locked on yours, and silence fills the air again; nothing but steady breathing. You wonder, if there’s anything he thinks about when he’s alone on mornings like these, whether he thinks about you. 

“So do I.” 

The girls’ and boys’ bathrooms are right next to each other. So at 4 in the morning, when everyone else is still asleep and the sun is yet to rise, you bump into Megumi after brushing your teeth. 

“Not going to shower?” he asks. 

“The sound will travel and it may wake the others up. What about you?” 

“I don’t shower in the mornings, only at night.” 

“Oh, right.” 

He pauses for a while, makes a little sound to fill in the gaps of his hesitation. You wait for him patiently. “Tsumiki… I can let you know about what happened to her. The truth is, she—” 

“Take your time,” you interrupt him. You aren’t stupid; something bad must have happened to her for him to be like this. Any slither of hope you have left that she’s all fine and good was used to play dumb and deny yourself the truth. 

“...let me take you there. To where she is.” 

For more than half your life, Tsumiki’s been a constant. As you moved around and floated between friend groups, you felt lonely in every waking moment; only wishing for the days when you had Tsumiki and Megumi again. That was the impact they had on you. So after such a long wait, your heart leapt with joy at the thought of seeing her again. 

“Okay.” 

“Actually, do they not have a curfew? It’s only 5 am,” you say as the two of you are on the sidewalk, next to each other; not with either of you in front of the other. You pull the strap of your bag up every time it slips down. 

“They do, but it’s only until 4 in the morning. It’s not as if it’ll be easy for sorcerers to obey a curfew anyway, so the teachers don’t really check if everyone is observing everything,” he explains, “Hey, I can hold your bag for you, you know—” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“It looks heavy. It’ll hurt, and I don’t mind carrying it for you for a while. How many things are in there, actually—?” 

“... I do try to pack minimalistically. I don’t have many things in it. I don’t know why it does this.” 

“Let me hold it.” 

“...okay. Thank you. But next time, you don’t have to.” 

“I really don’t mind. It’s uh… like what you said. We take care of each other.” 

“I’m surprised you still remember that,” you note, chuckling, “In that case I should try to take care of you more.” 

“...you’re already doing more than enough.” 

“Hope I’m not being too much, then,” you joke, and your voice sounds a little too fond as you hear it exit your mouth, “I’ll start doubling down from now on.” 

A small part of you wants to indulge yourself; to imagine him doing this for you always. To feel the extent of the things he can do for you, and to want to do the same. 

You hand him the bag. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

You have a problem here. You’re in deep, aren’t you? 

The two of you had decided not to phone up anyone who could drive you there, nor were you able to take public transport from the school’s campus to your destination. In truth, you had no idea why it seemed that he and you were being secretive about it, but since you weren’t sure if whatever happened to Tsumiki was something Megumi wanted others to know yet, you obliged him. 

“Where are we headed to, actually?” 

“...the hospital.” 

“...what?” 

“...you’ll see. I’ll be able to explain once we get there.” 

It’s as if the expression on his face is written in a language you can’t understand. 

It only spurs your worry— what happened to Tsumiki? You’d wanted so badly to see her again and speak to her ever since she stopped all contact with you. The whole time you’d thought she was just busy, or that she would speak to you again soon, as if she were some constant who you couldn’t imagine being absent from your life due to sickness or injury. It hadn’t even occurred to you, that after you checked in on her and hadn’t even seen that she’d read those messages. To you she was a constant, and she’d always come back. You couldn’t imagine a life without her doing so. 

First your mother, and now Tsumiki. 

“The whole time I thought she just decided to… stop talking to me for a while.” 

“If anything was done to her, she would have told you, provided that she could. You weren’t an afterthought to her. She loved you. I… it was my fault, that after everything happened, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

She loved you?

“I still don’t know what happened. I mean, don’t blame yourself—” 

A car passes by and the two of you cross the road. His hand hovers near your back at the end of it, when the pedestrian traffic light goes red and the cars move rapidly behind you. You pretend his actions aren’t blowing up fireworks inside you. 

“No, you called me, right? You even tried to reach me, and… after all I did and how I acted… it wasn’t the right thing to do. But I chose not to call you.” 

You remember when you did, remember how it stung. 

He’s not the only one keeping secrets. You’ve got the letter and the years of yearning you want to let him know about. Yet it would feel like betrayal to yourself, even with the guilt you have from always keeping them. You’re not sure if that guilt is for him or you. 

“But you apologised for all of that, and, well— I think I’m mostly fine with it now. It was just… circumstance, I guess. Especially because it was Tsumiki. Not sure what happened to her, but I mean… if it was just what was happening at that time, even if it may frustrate me, I just have to accept it,”  you explain yourself, speaking from your chest. 

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.” 

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway,  things are different now, too.” You’ve got more control over your technique, fine-tuned it with practice and determination. You may still be weak at times: you may struggle to heal severe injuries or may get a nosebleed when you’ve pushed yourself too far and tried to heal bruises on four hours of sleep, but you’ve improved.

“No— I’ve hidden it for so long, I don’t know—” 

“I mean, look, we all have our secrets. Sometimes we have them even if we don’t want or have to. You don’t have to be privy to all of myself, especially what I try to keep hidden, but if both of us ever want to… we can always take one step at a time, and I think we’re doing that quite well, in my opinion. Besides, you’re here now. And now that we’re both on campus it’s going to be even harder to get away from me.” 

He stops in his tracks all of a sudden. You do, too. The words come floundering out of his mouth. “[Name]... I don’t know the… ‘right’ way to say this, but I don’t want to get away from you.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, I never did.” 

“Huh.” 

He hums.

“…me neither,” you coax out of yourself. 

“...there’s a floral shop nearby. I usually get her some flowers.”  

It’s time to get your mother some flowers, too. 

The florist there greets the two of you with a wistful smile, and says that she hasn’t seen Megumi in a while. Megumi introduces you as a childhood friend. 

“What do you usually get?” you ask. 

“Lilies, usually. Carnations and daisies, sometimes, too.” 

You’ve only bought flowers to pay respects to the deceased, at least when it was you buying them and not Yuuji. You’d never met your grandfather, but back when your parents still called you their little girl, your father would bring you to the temple where his ashes were kept every year. You’d see that photo of his face, smiling in black and white, next to your grandmother on their wedding day, and you’d notice how your father prayed before it. He’d replace the flowers— carnations, lilies, daisies, and tell you all the anecdotes he had with his father growing up. You’d gaze at the chrysanthemums and carnations with their honey-hued petals, at the lilies and daisies in their clear glass vases, and you’d think of how pretty they were. You think your grandfather would have liked them, his smile a spitting image of your father’s and a spitting image of yours. 

“Those are her favourite, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They suit her. It’s a perfect match, because— well, to me, I always thought of parts of her as different things. Her kindness and the joy she shared with other people were cherries. Her hair was brown, so I’d think of chestnuts and that reminded me of Christmas with her, or mont blanc desserts. And her smile was like a flower to me, a bouquet of lilies. At first I only thought that it was because she was pretty and one of the sweetest people I knew, but now it’s more than that— wait, sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, no— it’s okay,” he replies, almost immediately. 

“I’m just excited, is all.” 

He sighs, though you don’t know why. “Then you’ll want to scream at me,” he begins, “…I’m sorry. You’re excited and I just… I’m sorry. You’ll understand when we’re there.” 

You want to hold him. Tell him that it’s okay. Tell him that no matter what, you could never hate him. That you’d never had the power to, ever since you met him on that spring day. 

He chooses one bouquet on display, then heads over to the cashier. You don’t think you’ll be able to hold him at all, today. Or he won’t let you, his walls barring you from him, even when you thought many of them were already gone. You’d been so stupid, thinking the two of you were getting closer, but there was still so much more you had to learn about him now. There was still so much more you had to wait for, until he was willing to take them down. 

“Have you known her for a long time?” you ask, exiting the shop. He bought two— one from him and one from you. 

“Ever since Tsumiki got admitted.” 

“I can pay you back for the bouquets, by the way,” you suggest. 

“It’s fine.” 

“Gojo’s money?” 

“Gojo’s money.” 

You snicker. 

To be honest,  it’s a little difficult walking with him now. The two of you are devoid of any communication whatsoever, a silence calm in the night and early morning yet thickly unbearable once the sun has risen. Before this, you’d been timidly tiptoeing between small talk and deep conversations. Yet now, with the mood of Tsumiki’s incident looming over the air like a ghostly whisper, there’s nothing to talk about, really, as much as you’d like for there to be. 

You’d once heard that people who fell in love were able to talk each others’ ears off for hours on end. You could do that with Yuuji. But Megumi has always been different— in your life, at least. He’s not as boisterous, and not as agreeable with most people despite his politeness, but it’s always been a pleasure being silent with him. Sitting in silence. Lying on the bed together. There’s no spark before you, just the tranquility of an ocean at midnight. In the darkness, with shadows. 

He’s special. Now you can see that, now more clearly than ever before. 

And even now— even when things are awkward and jittery, you find you don’t mind this that much at all.  You don’t think you mind anything if you’re doing it with him. 

So there are no words between you, and you glance at his face, at the frown that contorts his face so softly and gently. 

If you held hands now, it would be pleasant. 

If you held hands now, your hands would inch closer to his as shyly as the first hints of spring arrive after winter. Your wrist would reach his, fingers aching for others to interlock with. Then they would slowly graze his palm like a lost man navigating through the wilderness, until you slid your fingers up his arm again. You would keep them on his wrist, at the outline of his veins, and perhaps if you pressed on it hard enough and used the same mental imaging you do for your cursed technique, you would be able to watch as blood flowed through his arteries and veins. You’ve held his wrist before anyway, grabbed it and pulled him along while his hand would slacken a little. At that time you did it almost abrasively. 

Maybe he would flinch. And maybe you would pull your hand back. 

But then before you realise it he would be tugging on your fingers again, palm against yours, finger to finger. You can even feel it as you think of it now— you would nearly melt in the grooves of his palm, the texture of his skin, and your hand would dance around his a bit until both of your hands wrapped around each other, a snug fit.

“[Name].” 

Your breath seems to fall short as you’re pulled from your fantasies. “What?” you ask, your face hot like a pan sizzling with melted butter. 

“Are you okay? It’s time to cross the road.” 

“Yeah. Just… it’s just… Tsumiki.” 

His hand is on your wrist. 

“Okay.” 

And if your hand slides down to his palm, and you squeeze his hand before he squeezes yours back despite not looking at you at that moment, well— 

You’ve done this before, and several times. But yo know why it’s different now. 

The sun has risen. There’s a certain pallor on Tsumiki’s face that you’ve never seen before. Under the early morning light it’s as if sunlight is seeping through her like light refracted in water. Her face is torn between peace and a grimace, as if she’s suspended precariously between a dream and a nightmare. A glaring red mark burns into her forehead like carved wood in patterns completely alien to you. There’s no lively ponytail bursting from her head, only the sordid scene of strands of chestnut hair gone flattened and lifeless, her once bright pink lips turned desiccated and pale; the sight of her grinning face from before only slipping through your fingers like powdery heaps of dust. She’s drawn out on the mattress resembling a fawn carcass in a documentary: too young and innocent to be like this, shallowly breathing in the torpid air. Comatose. The sight juts through your heart. 

This is different from grief. It feels like suffocation, like heaviness in the air. Your breaths are shallow as you take the clear glass vase, fill it with water and replace the previous lilies with new ones. There is no grief because nothing has been lost, only suspended. Locked in a standstill, for a little while. 

“We think it was a curse,” Megumi chokes. 

“How can you cure her?” 

“There’s no known cure since it was made from cursed energy. All we can do is wait for her to wake up.” 

“How long…?” 

“Since junior high. A while after you left.” Megumi confesses, “I’m sorry if you’re angry that I should’ve told you sooner,” his voice is strained and soft, a little bit from cutting himself off, “I’m sorry.” 

How many times had you thought of seeing her? How many times had you wondered why he’d never call and let you know how she was? Would she survive this, or would you have to wait a hundred times more just to see her again?

He knew all of this. He could have told you. 

Don’t be unreasonable, you think. Just focus on what you can do next. 

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh, “It’s just that after everything…” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“I just wish I could’ve known. Then this whole time that I spent waiting—” 

“I know,” he goes, begging you to be angry. To hate him, as if anything he’s done to you could be the cause of something so great. 

You can cure people. You were placed on this world, born with powers to make or break life���s structures and processes, to cure people. With powers like that you’ve been hunted, sought after, protected— and yet now, when you need to heal this wound of hers, there’s nothing you can do. 

It makes you feel so useless it shakes you to the core. 

“I don’t know if I can do anything,” you start, half-resolute and half-doubtful. But despite your doubt you know that this is what it’s all about; what you’ve pledged yourself to do— to try your best and be useful. Like walking on a tightrope: you’ll have to march forward in the face of all of this and just force yourself not to look down, because this is all it’s ever been. Maybe, you think for a second, everything in your life has led to this moment. “But can I try?” 

“…of course. If anyone could do it, it would be you,” he remarks, voice softening with each syllable. 

“…thanks.” 

He’s very… tender today. Vulnerable. You suppose it’s because of Tsumiki and refrain from commenting on it.

You focus all your energy into her forehead and her brain, trying your best to somehow work against an obscure charm with an even more abstruse molecular structure. 

You can feel it— the strain on your consciousness, how it hurts to even think at some point, but ignore it all and try your best to help her. 

Be useful. If you don’t make it work now, her health is going to be up in the air for longer. If you don’t make it work now, you won’t know if you’ll be able to speak to her again, to thank her for everything— for teaching you to be kind and loving, for caring for you and appreciating parts of you when you’d never felt it before, for her cherry hair tie and her bright smile and her endless wisdom and— 

[Name]? 

If you don’t make it work now, how many more months will she have to spend without smiling through life and sharing her love with others? 

You want to scream at Megumi sometimes, actually. 

[Name]!

If you don’t make it work now, how much time of her life would be wasted in the end, when she had so much potential to change the world and shine her light on others? 

…he could have just told you from the start! 

You have to focus. If he told you this at the start, would that have changed anything? 

Be useful. 

[Name]! 

You have to make it work. You have to bring Tsumiki back. 

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[cheemscakecat]

The old Jedi would not know what to do with Luke.

Anakin was seen as a handful, but the Jedi could still command and control him. He was only a little boy when he was cut off from seeing his mother, and when the Jedi started drilling it into him that his personality was a problem he needed to grow out of.

He respected them, they were the authority figures in his life. He just wanted them to see him as someone worthy of respect too, instead of a problem child.

But they still talked down to him, even after all he did in the Clone Wars. Anakin was susceptible to Palpatine playing the part of a kind father figure because the Jedi treated him so badly.

He was so depressed when he met Padme again and his mom dying was the final straw. Padme stuck with him, but believed they needed to keep their stations as a Senator and Jedi to make the galaxy a better place.

Neither of them were in the right headspace for Anakin to leave the Jedi and seek a different life. He still wanted to be a Jedi, and wasn’t he supposed to be the chosen one? Surely he had to keep trying, he had to prove that Qui Gon was right. Had to prove himself.

Luke wouldn’t have thrived either if he was taken to the Jedi as a child. But if he travelled back in time as an adult?

That man thinks like a good old moisture farmer. Some of the most moral, trustworthy folks you could find on Tatooine. And they don’t take nonsense from anybody.

He respects Obi Wan and Yoda. But he doesn’t agree with them all the time or take all their words as gospel. He was turning down Obi Wan about rescuing Leia, saying he had to go home and he wasn’t qualified to help. Left Dagoba to save his friends, because he can’t just leave them behind to train.

And he didn’t give up on reasoning with Vader, even when told nobody comes back from the dark side. He believes people can redeem themselves.

Luke isn’t set in the strict and cultish ways that the Jedi had in their last days. That’s something Disney didn’t understand.

He’s like the ancient Jedi, the ones who were normal people who happened to have the force. That’s how he operates. Who says you have to train since childhood, away from all your family, in this temple system?

He doesn’t have all the same information and training, but he has an outsider’s perspective. Luke Skywalker doesn’t put the Jedi in the same box they built for themselves before the fall. And he would make that known.

He would get along swimmingly with Qui Gon and Quinlan Vos. Vos operated outside of the Order and was looked down upon for it. I can see those two sitting and joking for hours, racing each other with Luke on a Speeder and Quinlan parkoring through the trees.

Qui Gon tried to be civil and work as a member of the Jedi, even when they looked down on him. He believed someone like Anakin could change things, so of course he’d be excited meeting Luke.

Wouldn’t it be a relief to hear another person call out the Jedi on their overzealous rules? This Skywalker, who spoke of Count Dooku potentially being redeemable and said he understood why the man left? Nobody else would have said it out loud. Mace Windu would find the man infuriating. An outsider with no right to speak about the Jedi’s ways. Do you know what he said, when Mace told him he was not fit to call himself a Jedi, much less a master?

“I’d rather not fit your definition of a Jedi. This” he gestured at the Council “isn’t something to aspire to. You’re all so high up you can’t see the ground. You can barely see the other Jedi who are a floor beneath you.

I prefer to have my feet back on solid ground, with the people who live there.”

“You said your name is Skywalker.” Luke shrugged and chuckled.

”I like to fly. I’m a decent pilot. But looking at a world from orbit only shows a fraction of it. Landing, seeing what’s on the ground is important. There are so many lights you can’t see from space. So many sounds that Air Traffic Control sees as a distraction.

The sound of a child singing along to a song, the sound of old locals bickering, the sound of animals in the trees. They’re best experienced in person. The Jedi haven’t gone down to listen in a long, long time.”

Mace could say Luke’s not a Jedi, but then what is he? He uses the light side of the Force and has good morals and does his best to work with the personality traits he has.

Maybe he does have that impatient streak and fierce anger, but he’s learned to manage them. Instead of repressing them and assuming they’ll lead to the dark side.

You can’t call Skywalker a servant of the dark side, even when you vehemently disagree about Sith being capable of redemption. And he knows enough, is skilled enough, that you can’t just write him off as part of the unwashed masses.

So what is Luke then? Living proof that Jedi can function without the Council and Temple and Dogma. Proof that Anakin could have thrived if he wasn’t raised separated from his old life and to think he was wrong for having the traits he was born with.

Would he fade away if he changed the timeline? Or would he create a new, separate timeline and wind up back in his version of the future?

Luke would probably try not to sound like a crazy man, talking about the Chancellor. Instead of being able to oust Palpatine, I believe he would change the timeline by making a difference in people’s lives.

Qui Gon was surprised to see Skywalker insisting that Anakin needed his mother; and if the Jedi were so set on isolating kids, he’d buy her freedom himself and train the boy outside of the Order. He’d never really questioned the virtue of separating parent and child, but when Luke called it out? Really made him think.

Nobody could deny that Skywalker and the small child with the same name hit it off. They were both from Tatooine and loved to tinker and loved to fly. Some even wondered if Luke was the father, which made him burst out laughing and point out the flaws in that theory.

Shmi still ended up marrying Owen’s father when she was freed, but let Anakin go with Skywalker to become a Jedi. Somehow she knew the two of them would come to visit, just like he promised.

Years later, Luke would find a way to return to his own timeline. And it would be time for him to go home, with precious memories with his father, grandmother, and uncle that he never dreamed he’d experience.

The Anakin Skywalker he left behind would be okay. He had learned how to deal with his emotions in a healthy way. He didn’t hang on the Jedi’s every word.

He was so much more calm and happy. He didn’t care what the Order said about him when he and Padme announced their marriage. Anakin had questioned why she’d deny herself happiness for her career, and she saw that he had a point.

Of course Luke stuck around for the ceremony, alongside many Jedi like Qui Gon who left the Order after seeing there was an alternative. He left an Obi Wan and Yoda who weren’t so stifled by the Order, and who made it better for it.

It would be much later that Anakin would realize the other Skywalker was his son. He grew into the same face and voice and powers. And he would find a hologram from his master, too.

Explaining that he was from a timeline where the Jedi failed the Chosen One and he fell to the dark. Reassuring Anakin that he redeemed himself in the end, and that the evil Empire was defeated. Calling him dad and saying he was glad they got to get to know each other properly.