#keep rotating in my mind conversation that goes like

[cutetanuki-chan]

do you have any alecto/anastasia hcs?

I think my biggest hc is that Anastasia wanted to be present at laying Alecto down in the tomb, but something went not as planned, cause she helped design it and it's her house, where is she

and not quite a hc but I want Alecto snatch some of Anastasia's bones before leaving the tomb

but tbh the moment I got the ask my mind completely blanked out on everything I was thinking about them, I'll add more to this post if I remember some of it

but thank you for asking!

[earlysunshines]

L word

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: minji gets drunk while she’s away and you’re sent a video of her rambling on about how much she misses u

warnings: sappy sweet lovely ; minji a loser FORREAL i will never let this go. ; alcohol! yummmmmyyy ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: hello WHATS UP im HOME i have a new cat keychain and milk blush HOORAY anyways girlfriend of the year goes to

it’s the last day of minji’s stupid volleyball camp – the camp four hours away from you, her beloved girlfriend – and she’s surrounded by her teammates, a few bottles of soju and wine they somehow managed to sneak in, and the growing haze of too much alcohol. 

leaning her head against the back of the couch, she tries desperately to keep herself from losing her mind.

what’s pushing her to the edge isn’t just the alcohol—it’s the fact that she made the rookie mistake of glancing at her phone’s wallpaper. there you are, hair up, face bare, looking effortlessly beautiful as you make breakfast in the morning. you’re caught in the middle of a candid moment, gazing at the camera with a confused expression, your hand blurred as you try to grab the phone from her. 

(“hey!” you groan, rushing towards her with a spatula in your hand. minji laughs, backing away and pushing your head away with her hand, making you groan again. “delete that!”

“nuh uh.” minji grins at you, then puts her phone in her pocket. you still look annoyed, but minji finds it the best thing to wake up to. “what’s all this?” she asks, moving her head to to the side to eye the stove.

you blush, turning away and walking back to where the stove is. you check up on the four eggs you’re cooking, then mumble, “i figured since it’s your first time staying over at my place… i’d make you breakfast.”

it doesn’t show, other than the slight tint of pink on minji’s cheeks, but she might lose her mind, maybe even get down on one knee.

“aw, thanks.”)

the image is sweet, simple, and yet, to minji, you look absolutely adorable. it’s enough to make her heart ache with longing, the kind that no amount of soju can drown out.

minji tilts her head back and downs another shot, wincing as the burn slides down her throat. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. alcohol has never been her strong suit—not like you, who can handle a few drinks without batting an eye. minji’s a lightweight, and by the third shot, she’s already feeling the effects, regretting every dose more than she wants to admit.

around her, her teammates are lost in their own conversations, faces flushed from the alcohol. haewon, the team’s setter, has somehow managed to smuggle in a bottle of wine and is well past her limit, babbling on about some guy she’s been talking to and clinging onto bae defeatedly. 

minji tries to focus, to engage in the chatter, but her mind keeps wandering back to you. your image, your smile, the way you look at her—it all tugs at her heart, pulling her deeper into her thoughts, further away from the room full of laughter and slurred words. she checks her phone again after feeling it vibrate against the floor, immediately checking it and catching another glimpse of another photo of you in her lockscreen rotation; this time, she sees you studying in the background, the time covering apart of your head, and a few texts from you.

[y/n]

hey babe i hope you’re having fun! i’m going to sleep, goodnight! miss you xx see you tomorrow lovely

minji stares at her screen, her frown deepening as if the notifications had just announced the end of the world. she knows it’s the alcohol making her overly emotional, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling the weight in her chest. with a frustrated sigh, she lets her phone slip from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the ground. the sudden movement draws the attention of her teammates, their chatter quieting as they turn to her.

“what’s wrong miss team captain?” ryujin teases, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

minji, usually the composed and level-headed one, surprises everyone when she lets out a dramatic whine and leans her head against danielle, who’s sitting next to her. the room falls silent as minji wraps her arms tighter around her knees, her voice small and filled with longing.

“i miss my girlfriend,” she confesses with a heavy sigh. she picks up her phone again, staring at the lock screen—another candid moment that you look adorable in. “i miss y/n so much.”

her teammates exchange glances, surprised by the rare display of vulnerability from their usually stoic captain, but they can’t help but smile at how deeply minji cares for you. hanni, the libero, is very entertained by this rare sight of minji. she pulls out her phone and snickers, pressing record and holding it up secretly. 

danielle lets minji sulk into her, she’s the only sober one in the room and is in the right mind to say anything meaningful in this situation. “do you need water?”

“i need y/n.” minji murmurs, rubbing her face in her hands and making her face even more red. “i miss her…”

“it’s been four days minji…”

“i want to be with her all the time… always.” minji confesses, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that takes everyone by surprise. her hand reaches for another shot glass, but danielle quickly intervenes, her concern clear. yet, minji manages to avoid her and downs the drink anyway, the alcohol burning its way down as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“i–i…” minji stammers, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. her fingers fumble for her phone, and when she finally grasps it, a soft smile spreads across her face. she turns the screen to show her teammates a candid picture of you nestled against her, your peaceful expression illuminated by the dim light from your lamp. you had completely passed out against her that day after studying for one of your more important tests, that was also the moment minji realized she loved you. “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” she murmurs, flipping the screen back to herself as if savoring the sight. “...y/n.”

danielle can’t help but giggle softly, gently helping minji to her feet. “she’s very sweet, but i think it’s time we get this sweet girl’s girlfriend back to her hotel room. you’ve had enough, minji.”

minji shakes her head, her pout deepening as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. the rest of the team watches in stunned silence, taken aback by the raw, unguarded side of minji they’ve never seen before. they knew she adored you—her eyes always sparkled when she mentioned you, and her demeanor softened in your presence—but this...this was something deeper, something that laid her heart bare for all to see.

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” minji slurs, her words heavy with emotion as she sways slightly on her feet.

“well!” danielle tilts her head, laughing softly at minji's endearing confession. hanni, meanwhile, can’t resist giggling as she records the entire scene, already planning to send it to you later. danielle carefully helps minji to her feet, steadying her as she turns to the team. “i’m going to get her to bed—someone’s turned into a sappy lovebird.”

“no, please keep her here,” ryujin pleads, clearly relishing in her captain’s rare moment of vulnerability. “this is gold.”

but danielle, the only one with a working moral compass, shakes her head, her gaze shifting to minji, whose blinks are becoming slower, her hair a tousled mess, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. minji clings to danielle, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbles, “i miss her… i wanna see my y/n… i love my y/n, i love her…”

danielle sighs, gently guiding minji toward the door. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’ll see her soon enough.” minji nods, though she continues to mumble your name like a mantra, earning giggles from her teammates even after she’s dragged out by danielle.

–

minji feels like she’s been hit by a bus when she wakes up. her head is pounding, her hair is tangled and a chunk is in her mouth, and her body is twisted in an awkward position that leaves her neck sore. 

she groans, blinking a few times as she rubs her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. blindly, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, and when her fingers finally graze the cold device, she squints at the screen—nine in the morning. the bus back leaves at ten.

it strikes her with the sharpness of an unexpected breeze. she gasps at the sight of the numbers, shooting up from the bed in a panic. in her rush, she nearly trips over her shoes, cursing under her breath as she fumbles to get herself ready.

her phone ends up on the sink counter as she splashes water over her face, trying to clear the fog in her mind. as the cold water shocks her system awake, another revelation dawns on her—she hasn’t responded to you yet. panic seizes her chest as she reaches for her phone, guilt and worry mixing with the lingering headache.

your texts are still unanswered, and there’s also a text from danielle asking if minji is alright, but you’re her first priority.

minji clicks on your contact, then presses ‘facetime’. water drips down her face and onto her shirt a bit before you pick up. 

“hey babe–”

“sorry i didn’t get to respond.” minji apologizes. you can only see the top half of her face looking down on you before she sets up the phone clumsily. you giggle and catch minji smiling at the sound of it. “the team and i we were…” minji can’t exactly remember much from the night before, she can only recall around seven bottles of soju on the ground, plus those two bottles of wine haewon brought. “... up late.”

“right.” you mumble, trying to contain a smile. “i missed you.”

minji almost misses her toothbrush while putting toothpaste on it. she clenches her jaw and looks at you in the camera, trying to conceal just how flustered you make her.

“me too.”

“how much?”

“a lot.” minji says, then starts brushing. it’s almost inaudible, but you manage to make out the small, “more than you missed me.” she mumbles as she brushes her back teeth.

“you’re so cute.” you murmur, then take a picture her in the moment.

minji groans when she sees the notification that you captured her while she’s a mess, minji is not a morning person. she puts her hand up to cover the camera as she continues brushing, but moves it away when she hears you giggling, wanting to see your face scrunch up cutely and your teeth show slightly when you laugh like that.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless.

–

minji has always been the reserved, playful type. you've seen glimpses of her more intimate side, but she's still shy about fully expressing her emotions. just like you, she's new to romance, and sometimes it shows in the way she kisses you just because, holds your hand with a gentle smile, or whispers compliments that warm your heart. 

but underneath that playful exterior, there's a lot she keeps hidden. minji’s good at concealing her deeper feelings, partly because she's shy, and partly because she’s still in disbelief that she managed to win your heart.

truthfully, minji is a mess. she’s head over heels when you kiss her cheek before you two part ways on campus. she’s even worse when you light up immediately at the sight of her outside your lecture room, and really anything you do makes her go batshit insane. but minji’s not going to show that, she doesn’t show any of it, so you’ve only seen her ‘cool, calm, and collected’ side–you think it’s cute, but what’s even cuter is the new side of her you’ve just been exposed to.

another truth is that you woke up to a good morning text from hanni before minji had even stirred. the message instantly made you feel all warm and giggly inside. there was a cheerful "good morning sunshine!" followed by a video and a teasing ":P you’ll love this girly." you clicked on the notification, squinting at the screen as you opened the video hanni sent.

the thumbnail showed minji, her cheeks flushed as she leaned against the couch. when you pressed play, hanni’s laughter echoed from behind the camera as she shakily recorded your girlfriend.

you watched as minji, looking like an adorable, sad puppy, leaned against danielle and started confessing how much she missed you. the sight made your heart swell, a huge smile spreading across your face. minji, with her flushed cheeks and vulnerable expression, showed off her lockscreen to the team, getting even sappier as she proudly displayed your photo. 

 “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” you hear her murmur, she turns the screen back to look at it lovingly. “...y/n.”

you couldn’t help but blush and kick your feet in bed, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. seeing how tipsy she was—four empty shot glasses scattered around her—explained why she was rambling about you, talking about how much she missed you. the whole thing made you giggle, your heart fluttering with affection for your sweet, slightly drunk minji.

what catches you off guard and nearly has you falling off your bed is when you catch minji saying:

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” she slurs it out drunkenly, but it’s heartwarming. she says i like a lead in a romance film, and it sounds genuine. then she says it over and over, and even if she’s drunk, drunk words are sober thoughts – that’s what you believe.

minji just said the L word and you weren’t there to witness it in real time. it’s been three months and minji said it first. if you could magically teleport to her in that moment you’d do it in a heartbeat.

–

your girlfriend arrives at your apartment in the afternoon. she knocks at your door and you open it with an eager smile, immediately pulling her in by the wrist and closing the door behind her.

minji giggles before you pull her in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling away to smile.

“missed you silly.”

“missed you more.”

“i bet.” you mumble before pecking her again, then smiling cheekily against her lips. “hey, i wanted to ask about something – also show you something too.”

your arms are still around her neck, and her hands rest above your waist as she looks at you through her adorable black frames. “okay?” she says, tilting her head.

you grab her by the wrist and lead her over to your couch, both of you flop down on it and you lean against her shoulder. she puts her arm around you as you grab your phone, then kisses your head softly while you pull something up.

“hanni sent me something interesting.” you shrug, fighting the smile that’s trying to form on your face. “i wanted to show you.”

“hm, okay.”

you pull up your messages and minji feels herself stiffening looking at the thumbnail of the video hanni had sent. you press play and she realizes it’s a video from the night before, so she stops you, grabbing your phone and turning it off.

“hey!” you groan, reaching over to grab your phone back. “don’t just–”

“whatever she sent, that’s not–”

“just watch the video!” you poke her side and she loosens her grip, which gives you a moment to snatch your phone back. “just–”

minji’s cheeks are crimson, she’s flustered beyond measure. she sighs, crossing her arms now and turning away from you. “that’s not– look, i was drunk out of my mind…”

“okay well i don’t care, i want you to watch it so i can ask you something.”

“y/n, please baby.”

“don’t baby me.” you say with fake annoyance, pressing play again. “watch,” you order, then mumble a small, “you’re really cute.”

minji shifts uncomfortably as she watches the video, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. she cringes at the sight of herself with flushed cheeks, collapsing onto danielle, and the video captures her in a state of drunken vulnerability–it’s mortifying to minji, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

as the footage plays, minji’s cringing even more. she sees herself leaning into danielle, eyes glassy, as she gushes about how much she misses you. her gaze flits to her lockscreen being proudly displayed, her face a deep shade of red. she bites her lip, feeling every bit of her embarrassment as the video continues.

"i– i just... missed you—" she tries to explain before you cut her off.

“shh, shh. we’re not at the best part yet.” 

hanni pham i’ll kill you. minji thinks to herself, forcing herself to watch the rest of the video. 

minji's face flushes even more at the sound of her own voice confessing her feelings. hanni’s giggles in the background only make the situation worse. minji hears herself repeatedly saying "i love y/n" with a tone of longing, the video ending with hanni's laughter echoing.

“so,” you pull away from her, looking at your thrown off girlfriend in front of you with raised brows. “what did you think.”

“i–” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then looks at you looking at her with an expectant expression and a teasing smile. “--look.”

“you said the L word.”

she furrows her brows. “what?”

“you said it, the L word.”

“oh my god y/n.” minji can’t help but laugh in the moment, purely from disbelief. she sighs, giving you a crooked smile. “is this about me saying… that?”

“saying what?” you push her buttons successfully, watching her bite the inside of her cheek.

“you know what.”

“say it.”

“what?”

“say it to my face.” you purse your lips, then bite the inside of your bottom lip. 

minji glances away, her face a mixture of vivid red and palpable anxiety. the embarrassment still colors her cheeks, but now there’s an additional hue of nervousness. it’s not that she’s new to romantic things like this with you—far from it. it’s just that her feelings for you are so profound, so overwhelming, that they’ve left her floundering, struggling to match the intensity of her emotions with her actions. sometimes it feels like her heart and brain work independently, or maybe it’s just her heart doing most of the work, it’s a mess, a beating wreck always.

you’ve managed to make her feel like a mess, an idiot, and utterly smitten, all by existing.

she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to look you squarely in the eye. her cheeks remain flushed, and she fidgets with her fingers, betraying her inner turmoil.

“i love you.”

“who?”

“you, y/n.” minji groans, leaning towards you and sliding her hand above your waist again. she presses your skin lightly with her fingertips, before repeating herself, “i love you y/n.” her voice is low and she looks at you through her eyelashes, now you’re all nervous.

you can’t speak or breathe in the moment, so you opt for leaning in and kissing her, but she pushes you away after one peck, looking at you with raised brows.

“you’re not going to say it back?” minji smirks, her gaze unwavering as she watches you avert your eyes. her expression turns playful yet determined as she gently hooks her finger under your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze once more. her thumb rests lightly on your lower jaw, her fingers pressing gently against your cheeks. “what was all that interrogation for if you’re—”

“i love you.” you confess, breath hitching when she looks at you like that. “i love you minji.”

minji smiles, clearly satisfied. “wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“i hate you.”

“but you love me.”

“yeah, but i hate you.”

“uh huh.” minji chuckles, fingers still holding your face and using that to pull you closer and kiss you.

despite the embarrassment she’s feeling, minji somehow remains more composed than you. she pushes her glasses up to sit on the crown of her head before her lips brush against yours with a tender softness, and she hums as she kisses you again. when she pulls away just enough to speak, her breath mingles with yours as she murmurs against your lips,

“i L word you a lot y/n.” she pecks you again, then says one more time before taking your breath away, “i love you so much you loser.”

[jolalibrary]

Just read your Soft!Frankie. How do you think Joel would be? I love your work. Thanks.

omg anon, okay, so I did quickly converse with my pal, @swiftispunk to clarify my thoughts. but here goes (hope this is okay)—for this you’re ill/have a cold.

soft!joel miller x reader (pre-outbreak)

the house is quiet. the sound of the pipes coming to life groaning in the walls is the first thing which stirs you.

your head is still full, heavy, as your eyes flutter open. then, you’re aware of how your throat still burns, worse than yesterday. more or less like you’d swallowed glass.

the rest follows suit, the sniff returning, the ache in your cheeks. the cold not improving but rather worsening overnight. it proves your point when you move, dizziness adding itself to your list of ailments—blurring your vision, making you even more thankful for declining the overtime, happy to be home and not behind a desk.

you reach out, greeted by cool sheets as the fan on the dresser groans as it performs another rotation.

and you don’t want to rise, but you also do. you want to see him, curl into him. but, you take your time in rising, all slow in your movements, using the bathroom and dressing in nothing but him when you’re done. you hope he won’t mind, maybe even like it as you pull on some of his sweats, grabbing a pair of his work-boot socks before heading downstairs.

he only murmurs your name softly at the sight of you—likely spotting your glassy eyes, and puffy cheeks from the cold making a home in you. you look at him, watching his lips tug up into one cheek when he spots the clothing, brows furrowing before they flatten, and you step closer, palm flat to his cheek as you wipe the crumbs.

and it’s soft, tender. him kissing your wrist before he mumbles about making you a drink. something warm. even adding honey—sarah’s orders before tommy took her to soccer practice. and you smile, hovering, shifting from side to side before he motions for you to get comfy under a blanket, keep warm, grunting: y’shouldn’t even be up.

your feet shuffle into the next room, seating yourself in your usual spot, tugging the blanket up and over—glancing at the coffee table, the magazine you’d grabbed Sarah and the array of coins from Joel emptying his pocket last night, all upon letters and papers—a mess, but a welcomed one. it’s home, a place you’d trade everything to be in.

when he joins you he’s clutching a mug, steam swirling up from it as he briefly places it down, a thud in the quiet before he settles down next to you. you watch as he wipes his hand on his jeans, before he places the back of his hand to your forehead. eyes narrowed, knitted in concern—

“still burnin’ up.”

you know. the sweat peppering your spine tells you as much, but you just lean into him. resting your head, finding no protest, only him moving to get more comfortable as he picks up and rests the mug on his knee—occasionally handing it to you, telling you to take a sip f’me.

and you do.

because it’s simple, easy. both the act and this thing with him. a thing he wasn’t sure he could give you if you remember correctly, yet he does it without trying.

“don’t fall asleep on me.”

he says it, even knowing you will. your head nodding, a sniff punctuating it, and the deep sigh you hear echo through him tells you he knows you’re minutes from doing so—and you’re sure he doesn’t care. most likely even likes it.

your eyes growing heavy, the television sounds slowly lowering in volume as your illness tries to beckon you to sleep. your legs come up, curling more so into him and the couch. feeling his arm move, just ever so slightly come around you, the mug going, finding a home on the table.

it’s only in the place between sleep and awake do you feel it, the slight touch of his fingers on yours. brushing over the tips, calloused palm flattening over your fingertips, trying to remove the chill from them.

and you smile, ever so slightly—and then you sniff before you briefly catch the scent of him. the last thing you needed to be lulled back to sleep.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi hi ^ ^ would it be alright if you could write Infected mistaking fleshcousin for reader and getting confused when they just respond with incoherent nonsense before realizing like "oh wait this isn't them" (bonus points if reader goes back into the elevator during their 'conversation') -💥

As the elevator doors opened once again, every occupant was booted out and had no choice but to enter the next floor:

WALL OF.

The concept of an obby with a looming threat from behind to motivate players sounded fun on paper, but in execution there was no guarantee that even a single person will be able to clear it without a scratch..

Or even make it to the other side alive.

They certainly had their work cut out for them, as the rapidly approaching wall of fire didn't allow them to think of anything else---nothing except their survival.

You were no stranger to this floor, having beaten it once or twice in the past. It was a brutal but challenging way to keep your parkour skills in tiptop shape--you're just grateful it's not Gregoriah's emporium or Mach's HALL OF (a terrible if not worse version of this incinerator obby).

Infected, who showed up on the elevator a few floors ago, was a little bummed out that he couldn't participate, pouting as he watched all the players prepare to run for their lives. The flames looked awesome and so did the rotating platforms!

He could totally clear it if only that stupid red barrier stopped him from exiting.

Of course, he had no idea what lied beyond the spinning platforms and tall ladders, and based on the survivors' reactions....it was probably better that he stayed curious.

As he waited, he looked to his right and was stunned to see...

You?

Yep, sure enough..you were here somehow.

A lot of things tend to go over the skater's head, including the fact that the "you" he was staring at wasn't actually you.

"0h! Y0u're still her3?" He tilted his head, before a grin overtook his face. "I th0ught that cr4zy chick kick3d 0ut everyb0dy...but hey! I get t0 chill with y0u! Th4'ts 4wes0me! I bet y0u get tir3d 0f this fl00r, yea?"

"Floors, doors, and smores. Friends miss the elevator drop." You responded, looking awfully dizzy and barely able to keep your head up. "Down to the boiling pot of fire. Burn burn bright!" Then you pointed to the incinerator wall that was now halfway across the area, admiring the flames.

Infected just blinked, unable to make sense of whatever the hell you just said.

"Dude, why are y0u talking cr4zy? L0L." He shook his head, laughing a little, although he stopped to sneeze. Most people would complain that he "infected" them, and he'd just shrug it off or glare. But you didn't mind so much, as you were the only one who hung around with him.

That's just proof he wasn't really sick. Everyone else was just being mean for no reason.

"Ar3 y0u sick? Y0u sh0uld g3t that ch3ck3d 0ut."

"Sick plagues fleeting worlds. Check outs at the market." You muttered, gazing listlessly at the man in pink, who continued to giggle at the nonsense you were speaking.

"Br4h, y0u're acting s0000 r4ndom right now. Even I c4n't k33p up with-"

"Grey cat tart miss you."

At that moment, Infected fell silent.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like laughing anymore.

You knew better than anyone that his missing cat was a rather..sensitive subject, and something he only shared with three people: Lampert, Unpleasant (reluctantly), and you. Of course, other elevator occupants have given him cats they found on various floors, ranging from angry red to calico to...sentient cardboard.

But none of them were his.

None of them were Poptart.

"....if he d0es, why h4sn't he c0me h0me yet?" He frowned, now feeling a bit downtrodden. "Man, why did y0u hav3 t0 kill my vib3? N0w I'm sad..."

All that he got from you was total silence.

Yeah..

Now he was starting to realize something wasn't quite right about the person standing beside him. He's 99% sure that you knew Poptart's name, so why did you say it like that?

Why not just say his name?

Then...it finally clicked.

"H0ld 0n..am I even t4lking t0-?"

*ding*

Infected looked to see the doors opening once again, and of all the people who were forced to complete WALL OF this time around...only you made it back alive. The real you.

You were sweaty and out of breath, clothes smelling like smoke as you thanked the gods above for the elevator's functional A/C kicking in. You dragged yourself into a corner to open a medkit, trying to get your breathing and heartrate down so you could properly speak,

But all the while you failed to notice your best friend's bug-eyed expression.

"[Y/n]...?"

Blinking, you looked at Infected. "Hey, let me tell you how much that SUCKED." You sprayed a burn on your arm before wrapping gauze around it. "It was totally different from last time! Who told her that having machines shoot snowballs at my ass was a good idea?! You know what it's like to freeze and sweat at the same time?! It's horrible."

"....br4h, that's cr4zy. But I was l0sing my mind in h3r3, 'cuz I th0ught I w4s talking to Y0U all al0ng!" He pointed to your clone, who he now realized was FleshCousin. "N0 w0nder that crazy lady didn't b00t y0u out!"

The creature, who took notice of your tired and battered state, only tilted their head. "Is..friend okay with the freeze and heat advisory?" They uttered, trying to imitate concern.

As you finished patching your arm, you looked up at them and smiled lightly. "I'm okay, Fleshy. Thank you...at least someone asked." You sent a pointed glare at Infected, who seemed baffled.

"I-I wuz g0nna ask, t00!" He huffed. "I just...I was getting mad 'cuz Flesh br0 here started talking ab0ut P0pt4rt..and I th0ught it was y0u. H0w....d0 they kn0w about him..?"

"Beats me. These guys know a lot of things, even Mark's and Wallter's..erm..past." You put the kit away and leaned against the wall, sighing in relief as you heard the elevator's music come on. It was a peaceful jazzy melody, putting you in a slightly better mood than you were a few minutes ago.

"Th3y sure had me f00led." Infected chuckled, shaking his head, although you eyed him strangely. "What?"

"...they've been riding with us for a while, dude."

".....huh? Re4lly???"

"Yeah. How did you not notice there were two of us?"

"Dunn0, this 3levat0r got so cr0wded I forg0t.....L0LZ."

".....of course you did."

[hellishere7980]

Whatever It Takes (CH-6)

From Plymouth, she made her way to London.

London. It fitted her. The clouds stopped the blinding sunlight from ever reaching the ground. Like a tamer version of Gotham. Obviously the crime rates were not near each other, but at least the atmosphere matched. Dark. Cloudy. Cold.

Six days after Ra’s Al-Ghul died.

One day she was sitting in the park when she came across a curious old woman. Mariam was just sitting on a bench, minding her own business when an old woman with a smiling face and a funny little bun came along and sat beside her on the bench. 

“You like the clouds, I see.” she said.

Normally Mariam would not have replied, but it was days since she had a decent conversation with anyone, soo…

“It keeps the heat down.” Is what she said in response.

“Heat in London?”

“If the clouds weren't here, it would be a nice warm day with blinding sunshine and what not.”

“True.”

With that, they both sat in silence. Soon it was lunchtime and the old lady got up.

“What would you like to have for lunch?” She asked.

“How do you know my mother has not made lunch for me already?” Mariam asked, assessing her from the corner of her eye.

“Because most kids who are to eat at home start looking around for their mother as soon as it dawns lunchtime.” The old lady asked, smiling at Mariam. “I was thinking. Sandwiches would make a splendid lunch. What do you say?”

“No, thank you.”

“Look, child. I can tell that you have some sort of training. And that you are on the run.” 

Mariam tensed.

“I'm not here to hurt you.” The old lady continued. “This is me trying to return- more accurately, pass on the favor. Someone much dear to me also suffers through this.”

“So this is your way of easing your guilt? You couldn't save your loved one, so now you're trying to save me? I don't need to be saved.” Mariam said, getting up.

“My Fu is alive, thank you very much.” The old lady replied, frustration seeping into her voice.

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Nobody should leave a child on their own.”

“Child.” Mariam let out a sarcastic laugh. “Haven't heard that in a while.”

“Come on, young lady. I think you would like to meet Fu.”

And that's how she met him. That's how she met Wang Fu. The Guardian of the Mother Miracle Box. That's how she learned the old lady's name. Marianne Lenoir. Curious little coincidence there. Marianne, Mariam. But her life was nothing if not a coincidence. Her birth to her survival. Coincidence.

Meanwhile, in America (Batcave)

“You realize, Bruce, she doesn't have that level of training!” A female figure said. Her frustration evident through the huge screen in the Batcave.

“Talia, I know you don't like the sound of it, but it fits.” Batman said, his cowl off. “Tell me, who else would have the training? We both know it's not that simple to kill Ra's Al Ghul. All his assassins always sweep a perimeter wherever he goes. They are constantly on rotating grounds, otherwise it would have been so easy to kill Ra's Al Ghul.”

“Bruce, you talk like I don't know that.” Talia said, the sounds of swords clashing behind her clear enough to echo through the batcave. “Oh, and I wish they would stop fighting already!” She said loudly, shooting a dirty look over her shoulder where the sound of swords was coming from. “Continuous clash. Even though they know they are outnumbered, they can't give up.”

Nightwing came from behind to stand beside Batman's chair. “Those rebel groups have not quite burned down yet?” 

“They would have, but they refused to change. Normally there wouldn't be so much rebellion if I had just inherited it, but father with all his ‘females are inferior’ complexity which By the way was known throughout the league. Those groups are simply unwilling to have a female Demon Head.” 

“It doesn't help that the League of Assassins is changing its aims, does it?” Nightwing asked with a sad smile.

“No it does not.” Talia agreed, slightly shaking her head. “How I wish she was here.”

“I'm sorry, Talia.” Bruce said. “But she simply vanished.”

“And that's what confuses me.” Talia said. “She doesn't have that level of training that she can simply disappear off the bat–”

“Pun intended?” Nightwing asked with a sly smile.

“No.” Talia said, rubbing her forehead. “Coming back to the topic, she couldn't have killed Father. You realize to kill him somebody would have had to throw the stone based on their pure aim and–” She threw her hands up in frustration. “It's not as easy to aim with a stone as it is to aim with a gun. Whoever did this had remarkable marksmanship.”

“There's no point in fretting over it, Talia. We have our systems up. I will check daily but I think we should trust her enough to know that she knows what she's doing.” Bruce said.

“Wait a minute. Hold up.” Nightwing said, turning towards him. “Where was this trust when I used to disappear?”

“Girls are more mature.” Bruce mumbled.

And the night ended with Nightwing's offended sounds and Talia's soft laughing.

Bonus:

Mariam looked at the floating green turtle creature in front of her. She stared at the creature, and the creature stared back at her. Fu and Marianne looked in anticipation from behind her.

Mariam turned to look at them, pointing at that floating green turtle thing. “ What in the unholy hell is THAT!?

Bonus #2

“So,” Mariam said as she and Fu made their way back to the massage parlor after bidding Marianne farewell at the train station. “How many Kwamis are there?”

“You are not ready for that information. Just as we don't put the noodles in the water unless it's boiling, you'll have to show patience before you are taught about the miraculous.”

“Excuse me Mister but this is a life, not a fucki** pot!”

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter nine.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Day 162 - also known as the first day of the expedition

Warnings: titans, blood and violence mention, arguments, semi-gaslighting, …things get heated in a wink wink nudge nudge way

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER NINE.

“Head’s up! Titan spotted on the northeast.”

It’s the first time the Captain of the Special Operations Squad has spoken to the group this morning, inching towards the early afternoon.

The team formation is simple: you’re dead center in a protective diamond while Levi’s black stallion charges in the lead. This was a non-negotiable decision, unanimously agreed upon by your Scout colleagues. 

Your safety, as they claim, is their top priority.

(The mission, as you'd argue, should be their top priority instead.)

And after yesterday's argument, you still feel sour. Devastated. Low, like their efforts don't really mean much.

Lack of sleep can get your comrades killed.

Why would he say that? Did Levi do something wrong when you were still yourself?

Through supper and well into the evening hours, you're stuck on that very question. Every word, every syllable, is loaded.

Lack of sleep can get your comrades killed. Don’t repeat past mistakes.

Just thinking about it breaks your skin into a cold sweat.

(Was it not Levi who fucked up, but you?)

You can’t ask.

Levi managed to avoid group breakfast in the crawling dawn, out of sight and out of mind until the agreed upon expedition hour — 06:00 hours — came to a head.

"How big is it?" Eld asks, squinting against the sun.

"Three meters at most," Levi states.

“I got this,” Eld promises, breaking formation at Levi’s right hand as his horse gallops to the right side of the diamond.

The decorated steed veers into the east, before a burst of life ignites the wires of Eld's ODM gear.

He latches onto the nearby tree trunks, zipping through the field to eliminate the problem.

“Show off,” Oluo huffs.

You continue riding along with the rest of the group, watching as the three-meter titan goes down without much of a fight. Eld uses the fallen body to latch into its skin, zipping back towards the group with ease.

Killing titans is easy.

Predicting where they might come from is where it gets tricky.

It’s like this for hours — spotting rogue titans, mostly under five meters, mindlessly wandering the fields of what used to be. The squad takes turns destroying the humanoid creatures, giving everyone ample opportunity to get their blades wet.

Everyone but you.

After yesterday’s fight, you’re too scared to ask Levi why — so you keep your mouth shut.

The tension is palpable despite your best efforts; Petra gives a look every few kilometers, curious as to why you have yet to speak up or participate in sporadic conversation. In your peripheral vision you see the way her round eyes scrutinize your face, nose scrunched in interest.

You only stare ahead at the tail of Levi’s horse.

“How much further until we set up camp, Captain?” Gunther calls from the back of the diamond.

“A few kilometers,” Levi supplies. “We’ll tend to the horses and set up a watch rotation for the night.”

“Calling dibs on second!” Oluo shouts to your left.

Petra’s head whips to the side, her arm raising to signal the rest of the group. “Another three-meter on my side! Want James to take it, Captain?”

She must see it. She must notice how you’re itching to get into the action, to prove your worth on the team.

You stare ahead, blinking up to the undercut disappearing and reappearing from the whip of raven-black hair.

Mentally, you try to form a psychic link.

Let me, you beg. Let me show everyone that I’m not a waste of space. Let me show you that I’m still me, whoever she is.

Levi takes a moment to think about it before speaking.

“Gunther, take it down.”

You deflate, your fists loosening on the reigns of your horse.

You could do it — break formation and ignite your ODM gear — but that runs the risk of slamming into Petra if she doesn’t duck.

The diamond has, quite literally, trapped you in.

Gunther doesn’t hesitate to act. With the sharp whiz of his ODM wires, the man abandons his horse at the back of the formation. His blades extend from their rectangular sheaths.

Within minutes, the titan goes down with a wail.

To not run into any abnormal titans so far is only a blessing — but the nearing forest, dense with tree trunks and overgrown bushels of leaves, is anything but.

You don’t need to remember how this goes to know the forest is a death trap.

Still, the tall trunks will provide ample vantage point for the nearing evening.

Levi holds a fist up at the mouth of the clearing, causing all horses to cease. Their puffs of exhaustion mix with the serene ambience of chirping birds and singing crickets.

It’s hard to forget how easily a titan can sneak in for a meal here.

“Set up a shelter and start a fire,” Levi orders, hopping off of his black stallion to turn towards the group. His eyes connect with every squad member — everyone but you. “We’ll stay here for the night and push on in the morning.”

“Captain,” you blurt, the intrusive thought hitting your tongue well before you can stop it.

Levi continues his air of boredom, but his eyes belatedly glance towards you. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

Your eyes connect.

Your stomach churns with transparent butterflies.

“Since everyone else spent the day taking down titans, I volunteer first watch,” you state.

“Denied,” Levi answers.

Your eyes widen a fraction of an inch. “What?”

“I always take the first watch.”

Like you’re supposed to know that already. Your body flushes with embarrassment.

“But I—”

“Actually, Captain, the time that’s spent with the rest of us resting could benefit James’ understanding of the mission,” Petra chirps as she dismounts her horse, rubbing at her stiff wrists. “I think James has been eager to help. And if she’s taking first watch with you, then we know she’s in good hands.”

You whip your attention towards her, shocked she spoke up at all.

The men grunt with approval of the redhead’s offer, stretching their limbs to relieve some of the long ride’s aches.

Captain Levi’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t say anything.

Petra doesn’t look your way, not when she’s already turned six shades paler with worry that she overstepped with Levi. Instead she pretends to look around at the nature surrounding the group.

She disappears into the middle of the group, decidedly fussing over the makeshift fire Oluo has started with dry twigs and other nearby supplies.

Had she meant to do that? Question Levi's comfort? It doesn’t seem like it.

Either way, you’re now trapped with two very real facts:

One, you’re taking the first watch of your first real expedition.

And two, you’re doing so with Levi, who cannot back out without arousing suspicion.

A wire whizzes above your head.

With that, Levi Ackerman disappears from view into the tall, tall trees.

You rearrange your cloak, mindful of how heavy the blade sheaths are at your hips, before igniting your ODM gear to follow. Wind whips against your face, cool and crisp.

From up here, you can see everything: the vast field leading back to Wall Rose, the dilapidated buildings of a civilization that once was, the life that found a way where titans cannot reach.

It would be peaceful if you were up here alone, but you’re not.

Levi is already crouched by the time you reach the highest branch. Beneath your feet is a massive expanse of flat wood, likely hundreds of years old.

The heels of your boot click when you float down onto its surface.

The captain says nothing.

For a few agonizing minutes, it stays that way. Birds chirp. Fireflies float. Cloaks billow.

This is going to be the longest watch of your life.

Sitting down on the flat trunk-like branch, you run your tongue against the seam of your lips.

You shouldn’t—

You can’t—

But you do.

“Y'know, we have to talk eventually.”

Your voice, echoing gently at this high altitude, surprises even yourself. A part of you wishes you could take it back, to keep your mouth shut, but another part?

Another part knows the entire expedition can’t last like this.

Captain Levi stands from his casual kneel. “No, we don’t.”

You sigh with exhaustion, but it isn’t from the grueling ride out to the forest. “I didn’t act out my memory maliciously, Levi.”

“At the moment, you will address me as Captain.”

Your eyes connect with the gray of his. His voice is hollow.

“Seriously?” you mumble.

His brow quirks. “Am I laughing?”

This? This is fucking ridiculous.

Rising to stand, you brush off rogue specs of leaf from your uniform. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s gotten you so freaked out, but I thought you would enjoy the surprise, Captain.” You dislike how angry you sound, but you are — angry. Mad, that he won’t speak to you clearly about the situation. “As far as I could tell, it was a happy memory for me.”

“A happy memory or not, it wasn’t appropriate,” Levi snaps. “Sneak-attacking what you remember and what you don’t doesn’t—”

“It wasn’t a sneak attack!” you protest in a yelp.

“It is.” He argues. “It was. Because I need to know how to act accordingly around you—”

“Captain—”

“—and being launched into what used to be doesn’t help.”

Into what used to be.

How to act accordingly around you.

A larger bird than the blue jays in the area coos overhead — possibly an owl, hooting as the night takes over the sky.

The tension can be cut with a knife as Levi stares at you, and you stare back. You try fitting the puzzle pieces together without saying a word.

Why does he have to act a certain way around you?

Does this have to do with what happened on the supply building roof at headquarters?

“Captain,” you slowly start, choosing to remain civil. Respectful. “I apologize — for catching you off guard, for not fully understanding the gravity of the situation. I recognize that you and I have history, whatever that might really be.”

There.

History — recognition flickers in his gaze.

Commander Erwin’s words come flooding back to the forefront of your memory:

I had anticipated this… situation to be a bit of a shock to him.

The spars. The special treatment. The way he sat with you on that roof.

You remember looking up at Commander Erwin with surprise when he asked if Levi had visited you during your recovery within Trost Headquarters; the way he appeared surprised when you told him that Levi never once showed; the moment he made you question everything.

We returned two weeks ago from the expedition. I assumed he would have at least attempted once.

You were surveying the cadet training, sir, you told him.

I was, Commander Erwin confirmed, but he wasn’t.

Then where the hell was Levi, if not with Erwin?

“You’re taking the second watch,” Levi decides with an abruptness that catches you completely off guard. “Ask Eld to cover you.”

His words are a cold splash of water to the face. “Wait, are you serious?” Levi is expressionless. “No. No, Captain, I am not leaving.”

There is a hint of anger in his clipped question.

“Are you disobeying direct orders?”

“That wasn’t a direct order, sir,” you reply. “You never ordered me. You only told me. There’s a distinct difference.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t be a smartass.”

Except the murmur is a thinly-veiled threat and nothing more.

Somehow you’re confident enough about it that you take a few steps into the wide gap between you.

“You said you wouldn’t shut me out,” you urge softly, hoping to spark his own memory in your panic. “I made a mistake and I am sorry for it, but—”

“No, shithead, what I said is that you need to leave.”

You frown. “But why? Why can’t we talk?”

“Disobeying orders and questioning your superior. Are you trying to rack up all possible offenses in one night?”

“You are not my superior, Levi. Not technically. Captain, Lieutenant, it’s all arbitrary bullshit Erwin made up.” Your eyes squint to narrow slits as your frustration climbs. He doesn’t correct you when you sneer at his first name. “I am trying to understand why you became so freaked out over a silly move I pulled when we were teenagers—”

“Enough.”

“—and why saying some silly phrase like dirty trick is such a big deal to you so I don’t make the same mistake again in the future!” you continue. “Because if I missed something? Because if that moment of us in the Underground is linked to something bad that I’m not remembering, since it feels pretty good to me when I say it—”

“I said enough,” Levi barks.

Something ignites in you to step forward, teeth bared.

“Don’t talk down to me like a fucking cadet, Levi.”

A flinch of muscle is all you need to see to know that Levi is as surprised as you to hear the acidic swear on the tip of your tongue — both brows move north from their neutral position, and suddenly the air feels thick.

“Is that not what you are?” he challenges, low and dangerous as he mirrors your step forward. “Because last I checked, you were barely a Scout anymore. You were just some dumbass with a fucked up memory.”

The insult stings its intended target.

You wince, but hold your ground.

“Now you’re saying shit to hurt me because you’re scared.”

“I’m not.”

“Levi, you’re being mean,” you murmur. “You hate not having control. I get that. I hate not having control over my own head, but you don’t get to be an asshole so you can feel better about a fucked-up situation.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do, and I’m tired of you pretending I don’t. Hiding away from me doesn’t protect me.”

You trudge closer towards your captain, but he bridges the gap for you: one step of his boot and he’s eye-to-eye with you, here, in the middle of this clearing.

The green flecks in the gray of his eyes bring some sickening softness to your belly, quelling a fraction of the fire within. It reminds you of summertime and darkness. A dichotomy of things you once loved — and things that once scared you.

Levi stares head on, seemingly disinterested in your psychological assessment.

Yet when your eyes drop to his arms, you see the most obvious tell of all: his fists are pale, fingers gripped in white-knuckled balls of restraint.

So you ask the first question that comes to mind, throwing caution to the wind:

“Are you afraid I’m gonna actually die this time?”

By the sound of his breath hitching in his throat, it’s safe to assume your question has caught Humanity’s Strongest off guard. 

Painfully earnest, your words are woven in a confusion threatening to choke the life out of you.

And Levi — Levi is four shades of enraged, glaring straight through you.

“I don’t give a shit if you live,” Levi corrects with a snarl.

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Then allow me to keep the first watch,” you reason. “And second. And third, because if you don’t give a shit, then who cares, right? I'll be tired. Maybe a titan will take me out so you can stop having to deal with my insufferable ass.”

“No.”

Your chin tilts. “But you said you don’t—”

“Why do you want to die so fucking bad?” he shouts, his spit hitting your cheek. “Why bother coming back to me if all you wanted to do was throw away your second chance?”

He realizes a second too late what he’s said —

— what he’s done.

For a man who’s spent the better half of the hour telling you he isn’t scared, that he doesn’t care, Levi Ackerman looks absolutely terrified as he stands speechless in the aftermath of his own wrongdoing. 

For minutes neither of you move. Neither of you look away.

Something dark brews behind Levi’s stormy eyes as you watch with unshakeable shock.

What can you say to go back twenty seconds?

The damage has already been done.

You both know it.

Your stomach sinks in sickening foresight.

“Forget it,” he dismisses.

No.

“Levi.”

He’s turning.

“Levi.”

You don’t know why you reach out, but your hands claw at his sleeve to stop him. He continues to turn.

Desperation takes your hand from his shoulder to his face, and quickly your palm paws at his cheek to pull him back.

He presses hard against your palm, fighting its hold, but you manage to bring his face close to yours in a rushed exhale.

Levi breathes heavily through his nose, nostrils flared and eyes downcast.

"James." It's hardly a murmur.

“Don’t,” you beg under your breath. “Don’t shut me out.”

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

He remains locked in place, all his limbs taut. He doesn’t, however, fling you from his body.

You keep his face caged between your hands.

“You said you wouldn’t shut me out.”

“James—”

His voice is different. Huskier.

Is that a plea?

You shake your head wildly, overcome with fright.

“Don’t shut me out,” you croak once more. “Please don’t leave and shut me out.”

The angle of Levi’s face serpentines from where he was running to come back to you.

Your faces collide, nose to nose.

His hot breath spans across your face in shaken puffs.

"Don't leave and shut me out," you repeat, voice cracking.

His head shakes, causing his nose to nuzzle yours.

“Won’t—”

“Please don’t leave me,” you repeat on the verge of crying.

His voice drops to a whisper, a prayer.

“Never—”

“Don’t leav—”

Your lips close, pressed together by something soft and warm. The sound dies muffled.

As if held hostage by your own body, you tense when a pair of warm hands encircle your head, pulling you closer to a softness in contrast of your desperation.

You blink once and see it.

Levi’s eyes are screwed shut, brows painfully knit together, as his lips move against yours. A boot shuffles, angling the scent of his sweat to engulf you.

Instinctively your fingertips curl around his head, digging into his cheeks when you kiss back with profound starvation.

Spurred by your actions, a ragged exhale causes his lips press harder. The thumbs against your face run absently along your skin, as if to quell the anxiety plaguing your mind.

You pull him impossibly closer, matching the intensity of the kisses.

As if you're drowning.

As if it's been forever.

The tip of his tongue flicks against your lower lip. Wordlessly it requests consent, and your lips part eagerly to comply. He takes the opportunity and runs with it as his tongue seeks yours for salvation, gliding with practiced ease.

Inadvertently you whimper from the contact.

The sound is enough to yank him clear from your ironclad grip, dragging your nails across his face.

Gray eyes meet yours with a swirl of emotion — awe, uncertainty, dread — with lips pinker than before.

Your hands remain in the air from where you had him.

Red streaks line the sides of his face like hastily-drawn whiskers.

All you can do is stare.

Levi Ackerman has never looked so vulnerable.

“I order you,” he finally says, voice wrecked, “to tell Eld to accompany me for the first watch.”

You finally breathe, hands dropping unceremoniously to your sides.

"Yes, sir," you obey on autopilot.

He doesn’t need to say it twice.

You spin on a heel.

Your ODM gear ignites back to life.

.

author note: ...remember when i said i had a scene written for forever? tehee.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami

[here2bbtstrash]

bts at a drag show/gay bar

i was already babbling abt how much i wanted to do this with my bias line and then y'all made me realize i should just make it a whole damn headcanons post so. welcome! here we are! here is my brainrot on how the boys would turn up on drag night at the gay bar 🏳️‍🌈✨ if this content is not for you, it costs $0 to just keep scrolling ✌️

knj: everyone expected that joonie bby would be flooded with attention from the people who came out tonight specifically in search of a tall, built daddy, but there's a group nobody saw coming that ends up swarming him first: the lesbians. they fucking love him, and he finds himself getting sucked into an hour-long conversation on the back patio about roni horn and rha hyeseok. he'll probably end up agreeing to start a book club with his new sapphic friends before the night is over (and he'll run into them all again the following weekend when he goes to support soyoon at one of her gigs lmao) 👭

ksj: entirely oblivious to what it looks like when a person is flirting with him, despite that being exactly what happens to him for quite literally the entire night. each time someone new walks away from the table, he'll turn back to yoongi and jimin with the same question: "okay, now surely that wasn't flirting, was it?!" only to be immediately told that yes, yes it was and no, nobody would sit through a 20 minute ted talk on the lore of maplestory if they didn't also want to sit on his dick. he'll argue til til he's half-hoarse from screaming over the music that there's no way everyone in the club could possibly be flirting with him - but frankly, he's not mad at the ego boost 🍆

myg: putting the suga in suga daddy, he's breaking hundreds at the bar to make sure everyone has a stack of singles to tip the queens, and alllllll the drinks are going on his black card. other than that he's pretty lowkey, mostly just sipping steadily at his whiskey and looking at his phone. when somebody finally gets nosy enough to lean over his shoulder and snoop, they realize that he's actively scrolling through his rotation of hookup apps and trying to match up people in the room to their profiles. might slip away for a sneaky link in the bathroom oop, but he'll be back in time to close his tab out 💳

jhs: full-send GAGGING at the queens and their dancing. he can't even stay in his seat because song after song he's jumping to his feet just so he can dramatically collapse to the floor with a gay scream, getting his life entirely with every new kick, flip, spin, and death drop. the word slaaaaaaaay! has never been shouted with more enthusiasm than it is tonight by this man, and he does not give a fuck that he won't have a voice tomorrow. once the show is over, he is the absolute center of the dancefloor, popping and locking and showing off his footwork like he was born to do it-- and the boys will definitely catch him practicing his duck walk at some point in the next week 🕺

pjm: without a doubt, he is the LIFE of the mf party, lost in the lights and outta his mind u kno?? it's literally just the like crazy MV, actually. will make everyone do shots as soon as they get in the door and then at least once an hour the rest of the night, if only because he really likes flirting (and by flirting i mean making out) with the shot boys. lbr he probably gets several shots poured or spat into his mouth, and if anyone's hopping up on the bar to get tequila sucked out of their belly button, it is absolutely this demon. and ofc he's bringing at least one person home with him - "it's gon' be a good night" indeed~ 😈

kth: disappears into the crowd a few songs into the set, but he texts the group chat that he's fine and just made some friends, so the night carries on without him. it isn't until the next performer is called to the stage - miss tata mic! - that everyone realizes he's befriended the queens, and they've done him up right: cinched for the gods, face beat to make his eyes even more smoldering than usual (...wait, did he bring his colored contacts from home?!), and moving fearlessly in borrowed six-inch heels. and of course, his choreo is flawless. he easily earns enough tips to pay yoongi back in full and then some 👠

jjk: the definition of 'happy to be here'. loves the lights, the music, the ~vibes~, all of it. he somehow knows every word to every single song, and the more drinks he has, the louder he's singing along. and the queens love him for being easy to fluster, the way even his ears flush with color when he blushes, so he gets a whole lot of ass and tiddies in his lap and his face (rewarded with generous tips, naturally). when the lights finally come on and everyone stumbles outside, he's a drunchies king, and he thinks the food from the truck in the parking lot is quite literally the best thing he's ever tasted. he repeatedly shouts 'DAMN!' up to the night sky, one fist swinging as he eats, until someone pours him into the car so they can all head back home 🍗

[nat-seal-well]

I’m in bed now because tomorrow I go in at 3 in the morning and I’m tired. But because I’m in bed, it means I can finally talk about an AU that won’t leave me alone :D

(And yeah, I know I already have 2 I’m working on. Tbh I don’t know if I’ll ever actually do anything with this third one, but it’s fun to think about and rotate around in my head like a Costco rotisserie chicken.)

I watched a movie the other day that was frankly, disappointing, but one of the few things I liked about it was that the love interest-person made dresses. He was a dick and his wife deserved way better (even though she poisoned him to put him in his place and I said “fuck yeah, do it again”), but I thought the whole dress-making thing was really cool. And then, because my mind works the way it does and it always likes to play with AUs, I said, “Hm, what if?”

This is also partially fueled by a very beloved book of mine. Some of my favorite parts in it are when the main character and her sisters are getting ready for a ball and getting sized and fitted for fancy dresses. Idk something about it just really appealed to me. Maybe I like pretty things too much. (To be completely honest, I know I do. It’s why I keep buying jewelry when I don’t actually like to wear any most of the time.)

I don’t have a clear plot for this AU like I do for the other two. Really it’s just a couple of scenes that are vaguely connected. Here’s what I’m thinking:

It would be set in, like, the 18th century or something bc let’s be honest everyone likes that.

Dressmaker!Marin who spends their days lost in their work in some tiny, little local shop that doesn’t get much recognition despite having a handful of very loyal customers.

They’re doing their usual thing when someone walks in and makes the bell above the door ring. This is a surprise, because they aren’t expecting anyone today. They don’t have any fitting appointments and while walk-ins are welcome, the shop doesn’t really get any.

So they put their work aside and make their way up to the front of the shop to greet whoever it is. And, of course, who else could it be but a certain very tall, and very pretty Nat?

(With a disgruntled Ava in tow. She does not want to be there.)

They make their introductions. Nat does most of the speaking, and talks about how she and her very dear friend aren’t from here—they’re visiting on prolonged business, she says. (Agency business, but Marin doesn’t know that.) It was very sudden and neither of them had time to pack properly, and she knows this is very short timing, but they’re going to be in town for a while, and would Marin possibly be kind and generous enough spend part of their day having them measured so they can place a few orders?

Ava says under her breath, “I don’t need new clothes.” To which Nat replies, too quietly for Marin to hear, “Your last dress is currently covered in werewolf blood. It’s either a new wardrobe, or you walk around for everyone to see in your shift.”

(Ava does not want to do that. She reluctantly agrees.)

Marin, of course, is more than willing to help. Partially because they’re eager for new customers, and partially because they find Nat very attractive and when they say yes, she smiles at them and it makes their heart jump. And their face feel warm. How strange.

Naturally, they move on to the actual measuring. Ava intimidates them and it goes smoothly, if more quiet than a usual appointment. They discovered quickly that she isn’t one for small talk. When it’s over and done with, it’s almost a relief.

With Nat, it’s a very different story. Nat makes conversation and is very insightful. She has a nice, soft laugh and makes them feel at ease, and has plenty of compliments to offer after seeing the dresses in display in the shop window. It’s safe to say that Marin is a very flustered mess, even though they’re enjoying her company. A lot.

There’s one moment where she has to get close with the measuring tape. Marin doesn’t notice at first until they realize they can smell the perfume she’s wearing, and then they look up—and wow, she is very tall, Marin has to tilt their head back to look her in the eye, and when did she get so close? They feel jumpy and take a step back, and try to play it off. If Nat almost trips over one of her sentences for some strange reason, Marin doesn’t notice.

Ava notices, though. Because of course she does.

The rest of the afternoon goes relatively smooth, even if Marin does make it a point to avoid making eye contact in order to keep their cool. Ava says she doesn’t care about the details of her garments, as long as they leave plenty of space for her to move around in like she needs. Nat isn’t picky either, though she does have a few things in mind. Marin says that they think she would look good in green.

They thank her, they pay for Marin for their time, and leave. And that’s that. That should be that.

Naturally, it isn’t. Not when Nat walks through the door again a few days later, but not to talk business. Instead, she says, it’s just… to see them. Just because she was “in the area” and thought she’d drop by. (Spoilers: she’s lying.)

One thing leads to another. Nat comes by more and more frequently, and Marin can’t help it when they wind up falling. Hard.

I just have this image in mind of them having quiet, private conversations in an empty shop as Marin works on sewing and beading and measuring fabric, while Nat sits on the other side of the work table and sips on cups of tea. It is soft and intimate and Marin finds they look forward to coming in more and more every day.

Naturally, when their work is done, there would be a scene where Marin is helping Nat into one of the dresses they made for her. Maybe they’re standing back to see it on her in its entirely, looking over their work to search for what can be improved, but oh no—the only thing they can actually focus on is now good Nat looks.

There’s a pause as Marin stands there and tries to get it together to think of something to say. They fail miserably. But why is Nat staring at them like that?

They clear their throat and open their mouth to offer an alteration they could make—a remark about it being just a little too long, or the sleeves extending just a bit too far, or something for them to fix so that Nat can keep visiting for just a little bit longer—but they never get to finish their thought. Because that’s when Nat takes a step forward and places her gloved hands very gently on either side of Marin’s face, and leans down to pull them into a kiss.

(It occurs to Marin later that she never actually looked herself over in the mirror once. Nat was too busy watching them.)

[oh-my-damn]

You know what, I read through all your post yesterday and today and I want to thank you for shining a light on this problematic behavior. I also want to thank you for allowing me to see his relationship with Jenny from a different perspective.

Jenny like Alba was agreeable in the beginning. I mean she ended her marriage so she could be with Chris. It was all puppy love and dream seventh grade boyfriend at the start. She enjoys being around him and his circle. She loves that she include in everything from Vegas to Disney. I’m her mind she got the quarterback at the price of altering her personality to fit his.

Eventually all puppy love fades and that’s where couples struggle. She begins to question his fuckboy behavior. Why he feels the need to constantly party, go to strip clubs, but the majority of their time together is spent at his house doing what he wants spewing his pseudo intellectual bullshit.

He really fooled Jenny too. She was in a vulnerable time in her life after ending her marriage. It looks like he love bombed her by showing up to her premiere, confer shows and book reading. Spending time with her support system was easy because it’s a few suburbs over so he really doesn’t need to put much effort in.

She starts causing too much trouble and becoming less agreeable so he ends it. He goes back to his fuckboy ways and now Jenny is stuck with the realization that she left her husband for this douche. They talk about each other in interviews, looked awkward AF at the premiere and that’s that.

Until late summer/early fall when the realization hits Chris that he doesn’t need to pick up women and have a FWB rotation with ATL women if he just apologizes. I’m sure he hit her with the it’ll be different this time, I promise to change speech and she fell for it. Nothing changes. It’s just the same shit different day. They continue their relationship because their both in ATL working so it’s easy and convenient. Then they both wrap and the curtains lift up and she realizes she got duped again.

Once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Chris strikes me as the guy who expects his meat and potatoes on the table when he gets home. I partially blame his upbringing because that’s how he was raised. He had a stay at home mom who did everything for her family and I think he wants the same for himself. If he’s going after an independent woman it’s strictly for the purposes of stripping her independence away from her because I think he gets a big thrill from it. It’s clear he likes being in control. Being in control gives him power over you and your life. If he’s the sole breadwinner then you have to depend on him and can’t really leave. He boxes them in without them even realizing it.

THIS. I COULD NOT HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF.

And the end part !!

I actually mused over this not too long ago bc as you may or may not know, I started writing a book (before all of this) about Chris in a secret relationship and it is still ongoing and when this came out it really spun me for a loop and I couldn't write it for a long time.

Anyway, in it, she's a lawyer, so not in the industry, and they keep it quiet to protect her.

But I had this written down before the articles came out and stuff in my drafts, its an interaction with them that is SO REAL to me bc this is legit what everyone should remember when in a relationship (I know I'm more aware of this due to law school but its an important lesson)

I'm so sorry this is long but I didn't know how to cut it down without losing the point of it, so I'm gonna put it under a cut.

I don't think many of my readers realized how important a conversation like this in a relationship where one partner makes a hell of a lot more money than the other. It's easy to get swept up and give in to it, but then what happens when its over? You're alone, standing there, having given up on your dreams, your safety net, for what? A boyfriend?

Any lawyer knows to never do this because we've seen the cases but I can tell you that it happens way more often than it should.

Anyway, here it is, read if you want, my point is that I agree with everything you said so much !!!!

This is the excerpt from the stranger with the money/work dynamic talk:

"Fuck work," he grumbles sleepily, his voice deep and groggy, "Stay." 

I let out a small laugh, pushing my back into his chest as he wraps a long leg over my hip to press into me more insistently. 

"I can't," I reply with a smile, finding one of his hands and entwining our fingers, "I need to work." 

"Why?" He half whines, huffing against my neck, "Work is no fun, stay here with me. I promise to give you a good time." 

I chuckle, "Well, I need work for money. And you know, that's without mentioning that entire 'I want to achieve my dreams' thing." 

"I have money," Chris murmurs against my neck, "Take some of mine." 

I snort out a laugh, shaking my head in response, "I don't want your money, I want my own money." 

Chris huffs jokingly, his warm breath tickling the back of my neck, "Are you saying my money's no good?"

"Mhmm," I giggle, "That's exactly what I'm saying." 

"How dare you," Chris grumbles, his arms releasing their hold for only a moment before he turns me onto my back. He leans on his forearm to hover over me, a teasing glint in his cerulean blues, "What's wrong with my money?"

I grin as I look up at him, reaching up to card my fingers through his mussed up morning hair, "I didn't earn your money. I earned mine." 

"So?" He questions, leaning down to nudge my nose with his own, "If I wanted to share my money with you, it would technically become yours." 

"Yeah, but that's not how it works," I chuckle, my hand trailing down the side of his face to stroke his beard, "I wouldn't feel comfortable spending money that wasn't my own." 

That makes his brows furrow. He tilts his head, blue eyes gazing over my face before he asks, "You don't think you'd.. ever, feel comfortable with that?"

I mirror his curious look, letting my fingers trail over his cheek, "What do you mean?" 

"Weeelllll...." he drags out the word, maneuvering around until he can place his beefy body between my legs. His upper body hovers over mine, leaning on his forearms, as I let my fingers run through his soft locks. 

"What if," he continues, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "For example, hypothetically, we were married. Would you still feel weird about it?"

I let out a surprised chuckle, tilting my head as I look up at him. My fingers card through his hair as I shake my head, "No, if we were married it would be different." 

"Why's that?" he muses, leaning into my touch with a soft smile on his face. 

"Because then we'd be married," I reply with a smile, "Being married is a whole different type of security. I wouldn't have to worry about becoming reliant on you, or your money, or your lifestyle, and risk that you'd be able to pull the rug out from under me suddenly."

His brows furrow, and I quickly add, "Not that I think you would! Of course not, I just mean logistically, like, rationally, as a lawyer, we know the pitfalls in these types of situations. Becoming reliant on your boyfriend is never a good idea." 

[hobbyrebell]

Since I'm going insane from pointlessly arguing with braindead people and propagandists on here, I'm just gonna give my ten cents and leave this conversation, maybe even the site for a little.

I want Israel to stop murdering civilians.

It's as easy as that. Just stop.

All the defendants of the undeniable genocide I've argued with over the last days and weeks had very little of an excuse really, I believe that comes from them knowing that the sole and only reason for what is happening in !Palestine! and what Israel is doing there comes from their tora saying that it's their "promised land" and they have any right to own it.

Excuses were, for example, that Hamas started it; alright, even if, that doesn't make the murder of children and civilians less horrifying and doesn't say anything.

It was originally Israel and Palestinians are the settlers; what the fuck is your point here even if that was true?

And to the "promised land" thing:

We, as humans, are nothing more than a disease. A virus destroying our host we called earth. I, as many others, wish we could rise to be more, but I don't think we ever will surely are not right now. You religious people's fragile egos just can't handle the meaninglessness that is our existence, but it is the truth, sorry to tell you.

Religion is stupid and dangerous and if you still believe in your imaginary friend and what he promised to you, you are either too indoctrinated, too stupid or too narrow-minded to think outside of the box beaten into your head.

It's a relic of a past when people thought the sun was circling the earth and thunder was the wrath of some superior being, that we are the center of everything, when in fact we are riding a tiny crumb of dust through a incomprehensibly large universe.

Before you cry out "antisemitism", I don't care what bedtime story your parents told you, I don't differentiate in "Jew", "Muslim" or "Christian", I just call it religious and I will still treat you like a human being and in no way different than any other person. Same goes for your place of birth by the way. Idgaf if you are from the US, Spain, Japan or the fuckin south pole and I surely don't care for your skin color.

Some of you people on the other hand treat people as subhuman or as someone who doesn't belong somewhere based on their religion or origin, since YOUR religion or YOUR leader says so, e.g. christian crusades, diverse acts of terror, the colonization of America or recently Russia or Israel.

That's where I draw the line and if you defend that, you are not only stupid, but unnecessarily supporting ruthless murder and I will stop treating you as a human being.

My opposition against Israel is not a thing about religion. They made it a thing about religion by painting the star on their flag and setting it equal to Judaism to make it easier to scream "antisemitism" towards any critic. It's about people being treated terribly and being killed for absolutely nothing while having no options to flee or surrender.

Nothing matters.

The universe doesn't even notice us in the slightest.

The earth still turns and it will keep rotating around the sun.

Those deaths mean nothing. Israel means nothing. Judaism means nothing. Humanity means nothing.

They are dying for absolutely nothing.

Just stop.

Not just Israel, but all wars, all unnecessary violence.

It's all pointless.

[hellhound5925]

Alright so here is something a little different for you all! I hope you like it! Please let me know!

I’m writing a new Fic under the same name as my Captain Rex one but this time it’s a Bad Batch version. If it goes well I will keep writing it. Let me know what you think!

Cyare Verd *Beloved Warrior* Bad Batch edition

Chapter One

Honestly.....this is quite literally the last place I want to be. One time, and I mean one time Cid THOUGHT she was doing me a favor and I owed her. The only thing Cid did for me was get me a job. I happened to be one of the 'lucky' ones - if you can even call it that - when the Empire bombed Mandalore. Needing the money, I guess Cid thought a favor meant throwing my life on the line for her benefit, while paying me enough to put fuel in my ship and replenish SOME rations. Cid was never my favorite, but we do what we have to do. I have a skill set she wanted and she had something I wanted.

Out of the blue she calls saying she's got a job that needs my help. I said no naturally, but then she reminded me I 'owe' her. I know damn well I could storm in there and take her and her mercs out myself...however, she does pay and I wouldn't mind some dirty work. "Fine....I'll be there in 2 rotations", "You'd better be quicker than that, I haven't got all day", the woman makes my blood boil..... "Alright, alright, Udessi (Calm down), I'll be there by morning". I end the link before she can say anything else. I really have no interest in conversations further with her.

I ready my ship (a Kom'rk class fighter also known as the Gaunlet star fighter) or the jump to hyper space. The only reason why I told her 2 days was to get under her skin. We both know I could be there as soon as I want but honestly? I love butting heads with her. I swear if this mission doesn't pay well or pan out, I'll ruin her...

————

Having spent an unfortunate amount of time at CID's before I was used to the ships coming to and from Ord Mantell. However, this time there was one I did not recognize. It looked to be an Omicron-class attack shuttle but it was definitely modified. I land my ship next to it, and head over to admire it.

I take a walk around the hull of the modified Omicron, stopping at the front to use my HUD to scan it. Standing with my hands on my hips I let out an impressed hum. "Not bad. Looks like someone did all the work themselves. Quite impressive" I say flipping my range finder back up.

"That would be because I did it" Says a voice behind me. I spin around, drawing my dual Westar-35 blasters aiming them at the source. I'm met with an individual in black and red plastoid, datapad in hand, "I'm of no harm to you" he says putting up the visor to reveal goggles. His big bright brown eyes give me a once over, "Mandalorian. It's a wonder there are any left after-". I cut him off with a loud sigh and reholster my blasters before storming off toward Cid's. I immediately start to feel bad for the poor guy. My reaction was not really called for, but the loss of my home...of Mandalore, is still raw. The open wound, being pressed by a stranger who likely has no idea what's it's like was rather irritating to me.

————

Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. I made my way to the bar where the blue Twi-lek bartender who I haven't seen in ages immediately recognized me. "Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" she joked. Poor girl always listened to me complain, but I'm probably the only person here who has ever shown her any sort of kindness. "Unfortunately I'm a little low on rations to be wise" I laugh. A rather large, obnoxious man comes over to me "Wow, that must be real Beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-th-that...." He slurs a little at the end. I eject my vibro blade from my vambrace and press it to his neck "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head" My words laces with venom. The bar tender laughs and slides a shot across the bar at me. I let go of the man who was rather caught off guard. Some of the other patrons at the bar are starting but I could careless. People usually stare when they see 'one of my kind'. "Don't mess with Mandalorians" someone says across the bar. I glance down and see another group of men in black and red plastoid - must be the poor guy from earlier is with them.

I slide my helmet off, letting my blonde hair fall. Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take the shot. The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says throwing an arm over me like we are old pals. I roll my eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble. "No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks. "Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.

————

"You know some day that attitude of yours is going to get you in trouble" Cid scolds me. "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?", Cid stands behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain. At this point I'm losing my patience "I work alone". "Not this time, look I'm sorry about the last job alright? You needed the credits, I had a job, but this time will be different I swear. These guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible". The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts. "I thought you might like getting back at them and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten. "35 and it's a deal" I counter back. "Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous", "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?", "They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" and with that she heads out the door.

I set my helmet on her desk and lean against one of the book cases lining the wall. I fiddle with my gloves and my vambrace until the door opens. Cid, followed by 4 men - one of which was the guy from the landing zone - and a kid? Each of the men remove their helmets to reveal their faces. Clones? I stand up straight and rest my hands on my blasters. “Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys” Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. The kid strolls over to me - clearly not intimidated at all - and sticks out her hand “Hi, Im Omega”. I quirk a brow at her before offering my hand, “This is the part you tell me your name” whispers Omega. “Right, Ni ceta (sorry). I’m Raven” I finally tell her. Her boldness takes me by surprise. I like this kid. Omega looks at the others who are standing there in silence. She nods my direction, and the largest one of the 4 pushes past, “I’m Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!” He says very loudly. I shake his hand which compared to my hand - even with gloves on - looks like it could crush mine. “Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary” says the one from earlier - still holding a datapad. “I’m Tech by the way. We met briefly earlier” he continues. “Look I’m sorry about-“ I start before he cuts me off. “No need, it was rather insensitive of me to speak to you that way”. This causes the other two - one with a skull tattoo on half his face and the other with a socket for an arm. “So that modified Omicron is yours then?” I ask causing the one with the tattoo to now look at me. “Actually it’s my ship, the Marauder. I’m their Sargent, well was their Sargent and this is Echo.” Echo waves at me with his socket arm and a soft smile. I nod, “Look, no offense but whatever this mission is I can promise it’s dangerous. I don’t really feel like bringing a kid along with us is going to be a great idea” I say gesturing to Omega. “Hey! I go on plenty missions!” She protests. “Look, Omega. I like your spirit I do, but your a kid. I’m not going to let something happen to a kid” I explain to her. “She goes with us” Hunter says in a gruff voice, putting his foot down. I can see a little of myself in the way Omega is looking at me. She seems like a smart kid but I’ve seen enough damage the Empire has done, I’d hate to see this kid caught in the middle. I choose to say nothing and shake my head. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?” I ask grabbing my buy’ce (helmet) and sliding it over my head. With that, we all head out to the ships.

————

When I start heading towards my ship, I hear someone call out to me “wouldn’t it just be easier if we all rode together?” Omega asks. I stop and turn around “How do I know you won’t leave me behind?” I ask. I don’t really trust these guys. I mean how could I? The clones - even though it was at Palpatines hand - were the reason the Republic fell and we are in this mess. These guys seem different but I don’t have a reason to trust them. Omega, almost like she is reading my thoughts says “you can trust us, we aren’t like the others”. The others. I scoff to myself. Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things, and come back out to see Omega standing where I left her. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. “I knew you’d come around!” She about jumps for joy before leading me onto the Marauder.

Omega shows me to ‘her room’ and tells me I can leave my bag there. I’m a little hesitant at first but I don’t have any other options at the moment. The only things in this bag are a couple changes of regular cloths and some rations. I’ve not got much to lose that isn’t my beskar these days. She then gives me a brief tour of the ship, ending at the cockpit where Hunter and the rest are talking…about me. Well, I didn’t actually hear them say anything specific, but by their body language and the way Hunter stiffens before he even saw me told me everything I needed to know. I decide to speak up, “I know you don’t trust me and that’s fine. We don’t have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I’m paid I’ll be gone. You won’t have to worry after that”. They all glance at one another except Hunter, he’s watching me. “That seems reasonable” Tech says very matter of factly.

Seeing that there are no more available seats, I sit on the floor leaning against the wall. “So what’s the plan?” I ask a sliding my buy’ce (helmet) off. “Get to Serenno and scout the area.” Hunter says without looking over at me. I sigh, “That’s not much of a plan but I can improvise.” I hear a clunk and look over to see a curious Omega with my buy’ce (helmet) - she almost dropped - in her hands. “Sorry” she says when she notices she’s been caught. The rest of the batch turns to see what she had done. Hunter frowns and looks as if he was about to scold her, I give him a look before turning to her. I smile “It’s alright, you can’t hurt it. It’s already got a lot of scratches on it”. This kid makes me soft and I don’t know why. I mean she is just a kid after all. She turns it over in her hands, “where did you get it?”. Before I can answer Tech is already explaining it, “Mandalorian armor is passed down through families. Sometimes it is even reforged for the wearer.” Omega looks to me to confirm the story and I nod. “Not many people know much about my people, how is it you know so much?” I asked Tech. Wrecker lets out a loud sigh “ughhh you had to ask…” Tech gives him a looks “You see, I spend much of my time doing research and as you may know we are clones of Jango Fetts.”, “Yeah but you guys don’t look like the others” I point out. “We are….well….different. Each of us had a unique genetic modification. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter had enhances senses, I have high intelligence, and Crosshair-“, “He’s with the Empire now” barks Hunter, interrupting Tech. “What about you?” I asked Echo. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. There was an accident and I was blonde up, capture by the techno union and they made me mostly machine”. Hearing his story pulls at my softer side, “Ni ceta (I’m sorry)” I say to him. He gives me a soft smile.

“Woah” Omega interrupts the mood - thank Maker. She’s got my buy’ce (helmet) over her head, which quite honestly is kinda funny. It’s definitely too big for her. “This tech is outdated. You know, Tech could make some upgrades to this if you wanted” her voice sounds kind of funny through the modulator. I mull it over for a second, “We’ll see kid” I laugh at the image of her tiny frame with the giant buy’ce (helmet) on. I notice Hunter is watching the exchange between her and I out of the corner of my eye. I can tell by her silence she is playing with the HUD. “So how do you know Cid?” Omega asks. “You’re quite the curious one aren’t you?” I point out. She giggles and shrugs - still wearing my buy’ce. I sigh sadly, “After…..Let’s just say I was in a rough patch and needed some credits. Now I prefer to bounty hunt, but I refuse to work for the Empire”. Maker why am I spilling my guts to this girl? She’s a kid. This is probably the most I’ve ever talked about myself to anyone other than Cid. Which I know now was a mistake. Omega - reading the room - slides off my buy’ce and sadly looks at me, “Something bad happened didn’t it?”, I sigh again “I’d rather not get into it”. Hunter turns back around in his seat facing the front window. I glance over his direction this time. “What’s his deal?” I ask Omega. She looks fondly his way, “He’s really protective of me, of us really. He’s my family”. “Hold on to that kid. It’s special” I say to her. She looks at me with a smile.

I decide to lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes for a moment. I feel someone approach and a tiny head lay in my lap. I glance down to see Omega curling up to me, with my helmet still in her arms. She trusts too easily. Some day that might hurt her….like it did me….the only difference is, she’s got them and I had no one. Let’s just hope that’s enough.

Next Chapter

***A/N***

Thanks for reading! This is a little different than my last Fic but I thought I’d throw something else out there. I didn’t find a whole lot of Hunter Fics and definitely not one with a Mandalorian OC or reader so I figured I’d give it a shot. Let me know what you think!

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts days 22, 23

From this prompt list. I set a goal of writing at least 150 words per day in 2024, which sounds pretty pathetic but if you take into account the fact that I haven’t written any fiction since 2019 it felt like a feasible target. And then somehow it turned into “I’m going to write a single interconnected story utilizing all of these prompts” which ?????, what can I say, I am incredibly foolish and there's no limit to my capacity for self-deceit. Anyway, the first draft is finished (at around 88k words) and I'll be unlocking posts here on tumblr as I edit.

read from the beginning here

Day 21 here

***

28. "Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now."

121. "I'd fuck you right here, right now, if I could."

***

Steph wasn't wrong. Tim really, really hated to apologize. Not because he saw it as losing face, or anything like that. It was because then he had to admit he fucked up, which might possibly mean he was a piece of shit. It just seemed like at some point he should be able to be the type of person who only caused harm because he meant to, and not because he hadn't slept in too long, like a cranky toddler.

But he was also not a chickenshit, so he suited up at home and left through one of the two concealed exits in the basement level as soon as he knew Damian would be on patrol. (And three nights in a row was a lot—he made a mental note to check the patrol rotation again when he returned home, because Tim wasn't the only one who needed sleep.)

He found Damian sitting on top of one of a huge stack of containers at the harbor, overlooking the ships being offloaded. Without trying to make the process soundless, Tim landed on the opposite end of the container. Damian's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't bother turning around.

Tim bit the inside of his lip, considering. He hadn't been able to work out the most appropriate method to begin this conversation despite all his brainstorming on the way over, so he'd finally decided he would just wing it. But now that the reality was staring him in the face—or determinedly giving him its back—he found himself nearly speechless.

Which was unacceptable. Right. When in doubt, dive in, and fix it later if it goes tits-up. (The part of his brain that offered constant commentary on his own thoughts gave the notion a hazy attribution to John Constantine, who was hardly a stellar example, but the principle was sound.)

Accordingly, he opted for the straightforward route. "I've come to apologize."

Damian gave a derisive tt but made no other acknowledgement.

"Would you mind taking your comm out for just a second? I'd prefer this not be accidentally shared with the entire crew."

He could tell Damian struggled with the concession, too angry to want to give an inch, but in the end discretion won out. He plucked the comm from his ear but kept his back turned. "Despite whatever Brown's inevitable gossipy meddling may have led you to believe, I do not require an apology."

Tim took a deep breath and paced a little closer, still keeping a prudent six feet between them. "I'm not here because of anything Steph said. I'm here because I fucked up and I need to make it right."

Damian snorted in contempt. "I assure you, there is no need. For me to accept such a thing would indicate you inflicted some sort of injury upon me. Which would imply you somehow developed skill and significance enough for that to occur. Which in turn is nonsense."

"Believe me, I'm well aware," Tim replied, and couldn't keep his tone from going dry as the desert. Damian's hands gave an inexplicable twitch at the words. "But be that as it may, we are still on the same team, and yesterday I acted like you were the enemy for no good reason. Yeah, you overstepped. But it was out of concern for my well-being and the safety of the family, so I should've been more understanding." He drummed one fist against his thigh, waiting for a response, but when none was forthcoming, braced himself and gave one more offering of vulnerability. "I was maybe still a little off-kilter from the dream. That one—ever since Insomnia fucked with my head, I've had the nightmare he gave me recur sometimes. Where it's not just Boomerang and my dad who die. It's most of us too. Except me. So I was definitely not at my best." A long pause, and still no sound. "I'm just gonna keep talking until you shut me up, but I'm pretty sure you're going to have to face me to do that, so . . ."

Damian's shoulders lowered the slightest bit. "Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now, and at least three of them don't involve turning around." He did give a quarter-turn, though. He wasn't looking at Tim, but his body was angled so Tim could at least see his profile. "They do mostly involve some sort of bloodshed, however."

"What a surprise. Not that I'm saying I don't deserve it." Tim dared to come within arm's reach. "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so angry and I said a lot of shit I didn't mean." He had turned off the white-outs on his domino, but Damian's were still firmly in place, so Tim couldn't tell which way he was looking. His ear was tilted toward Tim and he was clearly listening, and that would have to be enough to keep going. "You were right. I was being a baby."

Damian's chin dipped, and he angled his face away again. "Perhaps you were correct about some things as well. I regret not bringing up the issue with you instead of Father. And . . . other actions." Color crept up his cheeks.

Tim drew close enough to feel Damian's body heat radiating against what little skin he had exposed. A sudden sensory memory assailed him: leaning his face into the crook of Damian's neck, pressed together in a line from chest to dick. A wave of remembered arousal washed through him and left him aching with its recession. "If I made you regret we fucked, I'm ten times as sorry. You shouldn't have your memory of that ruined by me having been a jerk later."

Damian shrugged, a quick jerky motion entirely at odds with his usual grace. "I cannot argue with the final accusation you leveled at me."

Tim's mouth twisted as regret carved a hole in his chest. "Yes you can. You should. Don't agree with Temper-Tantruming Tim. He's an asshole and he only tells the worst part of the truth. I don't regret fucking you, Dami. I'm flattered you asked me. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Damian leaned toward him at the confession, every muscle betraying how badly he wanted to hear it. Tim suppressed a smile. He should have known praise would be his way in. "I'd fuck you right here, right now, if I could."

He reached out a cautious hand and grasped Damian's gauntleted fingers. Damian heaved a sigh of his own but didn't pull away. "I suppose you're aware that you could."

Tim couldn't stop himself from laughing aloud at that. "Fuck you right here? Yeah, if I want Oracle to take video and give notes on my performance." He reached up to tap the tiny depression on his domino that cleared Damian's white-outs.

Damian met his gaze straightforwardly, but it clearly cost him some effort. "Then perhaps you should do it where she can't see."

Tim pretended to consider, but it was a done deal as far as his dick was concerned. "You think so?" At Damian's firm nod, he grinned. "Better head back to my place after we're done, then."

Movement down at the harbor caught his eye. A group of men were creeping toward a particular container, hiding behind others as they went. "Hey, there's something going on. Wanna take a closer look together?"

"Naturally. I have not been standing here for my health. Let's go."

But before they did, Damian brought Tim's knuckles to his mouth, and Tim could've sworn he felt the burn of the kiss even through the Kevlar that separated their skin.

days twenty-four, twenty-five, and twenty-six here

[writingsoftwistedwonderland]

I saw that you were doing a character match-up and I wanted to give it a try, sorry if this is a bit weird, this is the first time doing one ^^*

My name is Ash, I'm nonbinary and use they/them pronouns. I'm really shy at first, but once I warm up to you, it gets better. I am kinda awkward and weird, but I embrace it. I also have a mouth that could make a sailor blush. The best way I could describe my style is a rotation between "uncle on vacation", softcore/cottagecore, alternative, and hobo. I'm 5'6, my hair goes down to my hips and is split dyed green and pink. I wear glasses. I don't like large crowds or noisy places, I have social anxiety. I'm neurodivergent (ADHD, anxiety, and auditory processing disorder (maybe autism)). I'm a black belt in karate and kobudo. And I do origami.

I hope this is enough, I'm really bad at describing myself ^^*.

Thank you!!

Thank you for requesting Ash! I am very similar to you! I am very quiet when personally meeting someone for the first time then I release crackhead energy after properly becoming their friend! The three characters that I would personally pair you with are Epel Felmier, Jack Howl, and Vil Schoenheit! Word count: 662

☆ My first immediate thought was Epel Felmier, due to how Epel is introduced. The Adeuce duo led the player into thinking of one characteristic when it was another.  Meaning the pair of you would be best at sharing since you both sorta have a similar thing happening! ☆ Epel was most likely caught off guard due to your language, but takes that in stride and joins in with you, making the conversation very fun and very scary to listen to. ☆ When it comes down to possible anxiety attacks or being overstim, Epel is quick to help, covering your ears gently, and tucking you close to him while quietly cussing out the person or thing causing your distress while providing gentle forehead kisses. ☆ He would be very interested in all your hobbies, Especially Kubodo and Karate! Having you teach him different moves and the proper technic while excitedly rambling to you about how cool he thinks this is. He thoroughly got his ass beat but he is so happy and so proud of you. ☆He adores your Origami, finding how you fold the paper into making a shape you want very fascinating and adorable. He will admit, he does not have the patience to fold the paper, so instead you and Him trade origami and carved apples.

☆ For my second choice, I say Jack would fit as well. Jack, while being a big buff beast-man, is an overall sweetheart. He would be another perfect match for you! ☆ He didn’t mind your language, instead taking it in stride that you are warming up to him and feeling safe around him to lower your guard and let loose! Even if it's swearing and being a goofball. ☆ He is quick to detect if you are going to possibly have a panic attack/severe anxiety in a situation and is quick to deter it. He wraps his arms around you gently, before mumbling soft praises while keeping you nice and safe from possible threats.

☆ WIth your hobbies he would gladly help you train! Having you teach him how you do karate and Kobudo would make him all excited as he shows you the stretching and running practice he uses for running! 

☆ The origami amazed him even more because he thought it was so cool that you could change the paper into different shapes! Any origami pieces are saved in a neat box or next to the cactus that he named after you!

☆ My Last and third thought was Vil Schoenheit! Purely because despite having a regal and sorta scary appearance (He is so pretty that I would panic if I stood next to him) but he is overall a sweetheart! He would gladly boost you positively!

☆ He will lightly scold you for your language, but never really means it. He has a soft spot for you and knows that your cursing and being energetic are showing him that he has your trust and that he will gladly cherish it without a second thought. ☆ He gets very protective very fast when it comes to anxiety and panic attacks. He will quickly excuse the both of you and bring you to a quiet, secure place before having you do breathing exercises, Hugging you close as you name items you can see as you ground yourself from the severe anxiety.

☆ He is very supportive of your hobbies, granted he does fret about you in case you do get hurt, being that karate a kubodo are contact sports, meaning he is cheering you on as you go against your opponent but has the first aid kit quickly so he can treat any possible wounds.

☆ Your origami is also very supported! Vil, himself knows how to do it. So he makes you a very special gift of your favorite animal made out of paper. Similar to Jack he too has a box filled with both your and his creations.

[deafearsdiary]

Unrealistic Mannerisms

Being a hopeless romantic leaves too much room for my imagination to run wild. Maybe it was all of the TV or the movies that I grew up watching that paved the way for my blueprint of love. Or maybe it was when I discovered romance novels, and drowned in vivid details describing the love between two fictional characters. And I know that it's also just part of my DNA that makes me want to swoon desperately at anything that's connected to making my heart flutter. Whatever the reason, the end result is that it feeds my imagination.

Now, of course it's always ideal that the woman is emotional, and you expect her to gush at everything. To be open and straightforward with how she feels. To fall deeply for a man, and become seemingly psychotic because of how he makes her feel. We all know how the story goes, but I love to think of how a man is that way for a woman. Because it is less common. We don't usually get to witness the man in love. We don't get to witness the first stages of him losing his sanity for a woman, or how long it lasts. We don't see the things that set him off, or the stuff that makes him smile. The things that make his heart flutter. But, lucky for you I think about it all the time. I think about what a man falling in love would be like. Let me paint you a picture...

Their meeting was unintentional; coincidental. Let's say they are both friends of mutual friends, to keep it simple. You meet her and think, "damn, she's gorgeous". But you keep it cool. She smiles at you, and you try to ignore that strange feeling you get in your stomach. You're not usually like this, so you think it's nothing. Just another woman you're attracted to that you can bang and forget about. As your hangout continues, you're noticing more and more amazing things about her. Her laugh is cute and contagious. Her smile, also contagious but sexy as hell. You got close enough to her to think, "God, she smells amazing." She's a great conversationalist and you could listen to her talk for hours, just for an excuse to stare at those sexy ass lips. When you guys engage in conversation, you can't help but want to flirt with her. But she beats you to it. She teases and her questions are intriguing. She's witty, and obviously intelligent. "Lord, where have they been hiding this girl?", is what you think after you leave.

Days go by and you want to stop thinking about her, but you can't. You start thinking of the ways that you want to make love to her, but usually when these fantasies start, they end there. This time, they keep going. And suddenly, you're thinking of things to do on dates. Anything to hear her laugh again, see her smile. You do your best to get in touch with her and make yourself relevant in her life. All while trying to act cool. But you're anything but that when you're with her. She's so different from what you're used to, but you can't help but gush over her. She's makes you nervous. Makes you second guess yourself. You feel clumsy around her, and you've never been clumsy your whole life. You barely know her, but she makes you want to be the best man in the world for her. Time passes and it's still all about her. Even though your regular life had a rotation of girls, that rotation feels different now that she exists in your world. All of a sudden you're dissatisfied. So you can't help but focus on her.

You muster up courage to hang out with her. You take all of your guts to lean in for a kiss with her, and it's the best first kiss you've ever had. You can't stop thinking about it, about her. It replays over and over in your mind, and you get this feeling in your body that you've never experienced before. In your arms, hands, legs, stomach...heart. It's not normal for you for a girl to make you feel so out of your element. Usually your the catch. Able to forget about the girl right after you get your nut, but not this one. This one treats you differently. Where did she even come from, honestly?

For days after your first kiss you were confident she'd be on you like white on rice. Like they usually are. Calling you, texting you, "needing" to see you again. But not her. Wasn't it as amazing for her as it was for you? "Get it together, man!" is all you tell yourself for weeks, when you can't stop thinking about her. And then you give in and hit her up again. She sounds so breezy and beautiful on the phone you can't understand how she's holding it together so much better than you.

After months of it being just you two day in and day out, she finally asks you the big question. She uses the L word. The one your allergic to and too scared to even think about. Your first thought is "yes, of course I do", and it comes lightening quick. But that freaks you out. So you hesitate, but give an answer that's honest but not too honest. She didn't like your answer and you can tell it saddened her. Damn it, you messed up. She pulls back from you and that kills you. You don't understand why you can't just be upfront with her and completely blunt. You know that you want her to know that you're in love with her and have been probably since the first conversation you had with her. She's the most beautiful woman you've laid eyes on. Yeah you've seen some fine women, but something about all those other woman turned you off. But not her. Everything about her is right. Everything about her makes you feel giddy like a child and horny like a cat in heat. Her voice, her laugh, her eyes, her lips, her nose, that she thinks is too big but you find adorable. Her hair, man oh man, her hair. And don't even get started on her body. She's insecure about so much of it but you can't understand how, because it's magnificent. She has the type of figure that makes you want to look at her when she does any and everything. She has a walk that's confident and beautiful. She can make anything look good, and does on a daily basis.

Eventually, you caught onto the fact that she isn't the type of woman that will wait for you to grow up and be vulnerable for her. She wants to be with a man that is willing to do what you won't. That fuels a type of jealousy you didn't know was in you. A couple of times she tried to move on, but you wouldn't let that fly. You had to intimidate a couple of guys, and lie to a few more. You aren't proud of it, but you knew you couldn't lose her. And then, she gets away. She confessed her love but you couldn't put your pride to the side for this amazing love that has become your life. To her, she doesn't matter to you, so she went to someone that cared. It crushed you. You couldn't show it cause you knew you messed up bad. Even one "I told you so" would've made you lose it. Every single song that had to do with love reminded you of her. It got so bad you even talked to your mom about her. Trying to figure out what to do. You hope that she'll come back one day, and if she does, you vow to not let her slip through your fingers again. And then, after what seemed like a millenium, it happens.

The day that you thought would never come. She's a free agent, and by God, she's still got a thing for you. You have no idea how, because you know you messed up big time, but then you settle on, because she's amazing that's how. And she's your soul mate so that other douche bag would never make her happy the way you can. You guys get back to talking and after all of this time, she still can read you like a book. She still makes you nervous. She still gives you a type of happiness that is unmatched. So what do you do?

While you guys were apart you got yourself into a pretty serious entanglement. You sort of gave up on love and just let life handle you since she left, so now you're in a bit of a pickle. But she's free now, so what do you do?

You know that you still mess up here and there, but you also know three strikes and you're out. And you're on your second one, so what do you do? She won't deal with being mistreated. She knows she deserves queen treatment, and that's what you want to give her. You're afraid you can't change, but does that matter when your life is on the line? And then she opens up a window for you. You can't lie to yourself, you saw it coming. It seemed strange, and kind of all of a sudden, like how you guys met, but there were definitely signs.

She still makes you feel the way she always has. And did she get more beautiful? Is that even possible? This entanglement you're in is starting to look very 'neither here nor there', and you know that you would drive to the ends of the Earth or wrestle a bear for a ticket back to paradise. You know what you want. You even know how to get it. You have to figure out if you're ballsy enough. And by God, you just might be.

So, what are you going to do?

[ingolds-archived]

@indeath. — sender kisses receiver to pretend they’re in a relationship.

     the bar isn’t one they’re familiar with; nour had picked it out, excited to try somewhere new, and theo barely tries to deny him anymore. it’s cozy, at least, the interior well-lit and warm, and the bottles lined up at the top shelf behind the counter are true spirits, theo’s eyebrows going up when the bartender rattles off how much it’ll cost for a glass. nour cuts them a lazy look, pays for it without much fuss, and then theo has whiskey in their hand, aged somewhere north of 150 years. he wanders after that, flitting here and there, and theo tries not to mind.

     three glasses in ( two of which theo has paid for themselves, thank you very much ), and they’re back at nour’s side, sipping slowly and not too focused on the conversation occurring on either side of them. the stranger seems more engaged than nour, spinning a tale even as his eyes drop, lingering somewhere around nour’s throat. he’s interested, sending signals so strong theo can nearly hear them, but nour keeps him tethered far, nodding every other sentence or so. he strikes theo as skeevy, slippery and oily as an eel, his hair slicked back tight and his eyes narrowed in an assessing, bold study of everything that nour is.

     then – he lays a hand on nour’s own atop the bar, fingers curling over the side of his palm, and the world sort of…halts, like its rotation has stopped dead. two things happen simultaneously: one, theo raises their eyebrows, caught just as off-guard as nour seems, at a move so brazen. second, long fingers slip into their back pocket, pointed and obvious. theo doesn’t quite startle, shifting in place, and when they glance at nour, he very explicitly doesn’t mention anything to the man – waits for him to catch on for himself. and catch on he does, dark eyes dropping to theo’s feet, trailing up their hips, over their chest, until they make eye contact with them – and theo smiles, showing all their teeth. it’s a clear attempt at sizing them up; theo feels an embarrassing sort of victory at having a clear eight inches on him. nour goes so far as to turn his face towards them, the man now only given his profile, a dismissal that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud.

     or maybe it does. neither of those gestures works.

     the patron sidles closer, hand skimming further up nour’s arm, and theo lowers their glass to their side, a warning hovering at the tip of their tongue. nour doesn’t need saving, not by any means, but if it’s one thing theo has long since tired of, it’s persistence. they don’t get the chance to voice it.

     theo feels their head being tipped to the side, nour’s palm soft but intent at their jaw, and then nour’s mouth is sliding against their own. they almost drop their drink when nour’s tongue curls past their lips, theo tasting wine, copper, something far sweeter they can’t name. he tugs them closer with the hand still in their pocket, fingers tangling into the hair curling just over their nape, and theo’s palms settle on the slim jut of his hips, pressing forward until nour has to arch his back to accommodate their height. nour’s leg slides between theirs, his hand slipping beneath the hem of their shirt to guide theo’s hips into theirs, and that finally sparks something in theo’s brain, a message reaching them through the fog of nour’s mouth sliding cool and slick against theirs, the hard line of his thigh nudged right up against them. theo tilts their head away, and almost for good measure, nour skims a kiss over their jaw, nuzzles at where their pulse hammers in their throat. theo cannot, with every fiber of their being, remember the last time they had so desperately wanted someone in public.

     and then, in case he hadn’t quite gotten the message yet, it’s spelled out for him: this is my boyfriend, theo. it’s only those words that finally get him to throw in the towel ( and perhaps the flagrant display of affection as well, theo thinks ), slinking away with his head bowed, certain to find some other poor customer to bother. that word – boyfriend – swims in theo’s head, makes them dizzy, a dog chasing its tail and never quite catching it. they know it doesn’t mean anything. can’t. it doesn’t stop them from wondering.

     nour’s hand doesn’t leave their pocket, his face still turned towards theo’s shoulder, and theo tries desperately not to read into it. it only somewhat works.

varying kisses prompts / accepting

[platonichaterbuthenihaveinsomnia]

Oh, sweetness devouring hair splitting perfections of the sea I sit in between of these thoughts and I hope to god We make it make sense today, I hope to god we make it make Sense today, don't you also feel that we're being so real? Don't you also wanna lay down for a little while on grass and then Sandy tiles besides the beach in a villa eating a peach Rotating, half-slithering, as we make the ends of the world Meet slowly, darling, we're meeting slowly, darling, we're meeting Truly, I'm in love and now I feel, I don't have to be sealed On the lips but then again, all these prior adjustments are so rare To be found in such ideal conditions, to be found in this way, and I know if it goes sour, the most beloved thing I have right now Will disintegrate into memories, oh what a curse to have, Memories, and so I'll keep my sealed, with my doors felt, I'll hold your hands somewhere in a fantasy as we jump from the River to the ocean over some cliffs and commotion, the normalcy Of humanity looking at us above, it'll just be the two of us, The darling, and her love, And even if months pass, I'll stay in a corner, you'll be the steps That take us from loveliness to foreigners, attached and together Holding the threads of eternity, forever, oh This is me trying, speaking, and dancing, and writing, and finding Another one to say, look at the day outside Look at the way the clouds all come to such pretty formations as If we they were trying to be you, and as March'll pass, so shall Spring, April and May would be summer that brings relief at the end as we Jump to June and July, by August, we mightn't even be fine, Cause we mightn't even together, in September and October, When I come back and I tell you finally, I don't know If it'll make any sense, any sensibility, maybe we'll be together in October, Maybe we'll be the ideal frolicking characters that jump Over the fields of wheat in fray, you'll be Aphrodite, and I'll still not Over your grace, and so then we arrive at the intricacies of November As it seems to be sort of cold, but then we remember, However cold it might be, it always rains a little bit too deep, So you live, suddenly, in that house in front of my window and We talk about how this world's such a bad, but great place, looking at each Other from distance and space, and then when the November rains greet us, The windows, also, fog up, The little droplets sounding so in tune to our conversation but more, Our dreams we do, and then as it rains, still, we'll meet In the evening when no one's still around, and I'll ask you If I could tell the stories of you I saw in my eyes, and I'll misspeak, The dreams is what I talk about, because my eyes are so hellbent On the beauty I see, and my mind is so hellbent on your unending Intellect and sweet, so that when we meet someday again, The November rain will be immortalised then, And this is a story, I hope it becomes true, Darling, you're my permanent muse, Permanent, permanent, like the rain in November, You're my sweetest muse.

-Aryamaan Upadhyay