#since that's sometimes associated with clouds as well

[marzipanandminutiae]

"EUROPEANS ATE GROUND-UP EGYPTIAN MUMMIES!!!! ALL THE TIME!!!"

sounds much more dramatic than

"Europeans sometimes consumed ground-up Egyptian mummies, or fluid found inside the chest cavities of mummies, or a type of tree resin that became associated with mummies because it kind of looked like the bitumen used in the embalming process, or the dried and ground flesh of very specific European dead- most likely a bit of all of the above at various times in various places. but it's hard to say what the proportion of each was- and at least one early Middle Eastern physician, Abd al-Latif al-Baghdadi from modern-day Iran, also advised the use of the Body Cavity Liquid variety hundreds of years before the first documented use of mummy by Europeans. so it was a medicinal thing in the areas from whence the mummies came, too. unsurprising seeing as a lot of cultures- including Europeans -have done Corpse Medicine with their own people for centuries. there was also been pushback against the medicinal use of mummies in Europe since at least the 16th century; it remains unclear how popular the notion was at any given time. so the answer to Is This A Good Symbol For The Effects of European Colonialism In Egypt remains a resounding 'ehhh...?'"

"because the whole idea is, is it not, that Europeans were literally consuming the dead bodies of a non-European people who would have had no reason to sell their dead without a European market. and that's kind of true! there was a market that created a demand! but they were also already putting the bodies to these uses closer to home before Europeans started, because this whole thing began with both Arab and European doctors misinterpreting other Arab doctors who were talking about the medicinal qualities of tree resin. so really it's not as simple a situation as we might like to believe."

"and Mummy Brown paint is like this whole other situation where it was supposed to be made from ground-up mummies but often wasn't because Cost-Cutting, and a lot of artists didn't really like it anyway, and others used it thinking the name only referred to the color, and one time Edward Burne-Jones attempted an Egyptian funeral for a tube of Mummy Brown paint because he was so horrified with the origins, so while that's a more straightforward as an Oh Shit Violent Colonialism situation, people merrily waltzing into shops and buying one tube of Dead Egyptian Person, please, my good man! wasn't quite as widespread as one might now think"

"for me, the more compelling image of Europe Fucking Egypt Over is that of a white archaeologist peering curiously into a pit where Egyptian people are working tirelessly to excavate a tomb, their names to be lost to history in favor of whatever rich white person they toiled for. even that image is not without complicating factors- I, imagining it, am a white woman who cannot ask those Egyptian men what they think and feel about all their role in all this -but to me it seems more reliable than the VERY complex and often misinterpreted history of the mummy trade, even as I understand it after like an hour of research"

"on the OTHER HAND, does it even matter if people in the Middle East were already doing mummy medicine, when Europeans increased demand? does it even matter if Europeans felt bad or at least grossed out about Mummy Brown paint or if it wasn't ~always~ real mummies? maybe it doesn't! maybe my instincts as a history worker to say It's More Complicated are clouding my judgment on the nature of colonialism! or maybe they aren't! or maybe different people will think I'm right or think I'm full of shit and that's just the nature of doing public history on The Tungles!"

"anyway I have COVID and should probably go to bed now"

"this article and the Wiki page for Mummia are very well-sourced"

[artycomicfangirl]

Well! Since my M&L Luigi and Daisy pic, a couple of you also managed to wonder about what Mario and Peach would look like as a duo.

Well, here they are! Firebrand and…Skyveil?

I know many associate Peach with heart and love powers. But I figured if we were to go with the elemental approach, some suggested that Sky/Weather/Wind might be suitable!

- For one reason, because Peach was always known to be floaty. But also because I based this idea from the Joyful cyclone abilities in super Princess Peach.

- Also the reason why I didn’t choose water as a pure element. Is because in general, water extinguishes fire. Permanently.

However, Wind has both the ability to snuff out a burning candle. Yet also be used to move and intensify a flame. Peach is the one who can calm our hero. Yet, she can be one of his biggest supports!

- If Peach had clouds included into her powers, she can use them to hide things within for surprise attacks. Including…lighting bolts. See what I’m getting at?

Being able to control wind/clouds, she may indirectly affect the weather. What if it rains? She can help plants grow, right?

Funnily enough, i had multiple name ideas for Peach’s What-If powers. A couple of the few I’ve picked:

- Skyveil (I found out There is actually a type of wedding veil called a Sky Veil. And I thought since Peach sometimes does wear wedding dresses. I picked this)

- Skysign

- Skyscript

- Gale Glyph

- Breeze Heart

- Weather Veil

Anyways, that’s it for my headcanon ramblings today! Hope you like it!

[inbarfink]

So when discussing the ending of ‘Over the Garden Wall’ and the nature of the Unknown in general, I think it is important to remember that it’s left deliberately up for interpretation. You know, it’s not a Quiz with one concrete answer we must uncover, but it’s more about our interpretations and personal feelings. Each and every one of us experiences that journey with Wirt and Greg into the Unknown in a slightly different way. 

So what I want to do here is not present a Correct Interpretation that will dispute all the others and prove them all wrong and prove myself right, I just want to share my own outlook on the nature of the Unknown. In the hopes that others will like it and it’ll inspire more cool readings and interpretations

So on some level I do agree with the popular theory that the Unknown is some sort of Afterlife - but I don’t see it as a regular Afterlife for human souls, I think it is an afterlife for Stories. This place is where fictional characters and stories end up once they’ve been totally forgotten by the living, ‘lost in the clouded annals of history’. and become.... unknown It is quite literally a place where ‘long forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood’.

That’s why the Unknown is a mishmash of different time periods and primarily visually and narratively influenced by stuff like fairy tales, ghost stories, children’s books and old cartoons - these stories have a high-tendency to be forgotten and thus get lost in the Unknown (whatever it’s because they rely on oral traditions or because they suffered from very poor preservation historically). 

And that is what the theme song, ‘Into the Unknown’ is talking about…

Where can we pretend that dreams do come true? In Stories.

And what are ‘the loveliest lies of all’? Now that would be Fiction. 

The entire concept of stories is a huge theme of this song, I think.

Beatrice and her family, Adelaide of the Pasture, Auntie Whispers and Lorna were all originally fairy tales. Maybe the same fairy tale, or maybe they were originally separated before being ‘melded’ together. (If, for example, the last child to Remember them before they were forgotten just assumed the Bad Witch in both the Auntie Whispers and Beatrice stories was Adelaide)

Pottsfield was an old urban legend about a haunted ghost town, Wirt and Greg basically played through its ‘plot’ directly. 

Miss Langtree, the schoolhouse and the other associated characters come from a long-forgotten and out-of-print children’s book. That’s why those characters tend to talk in comically-stilted expository dialogue. 

The Tavern was the setting for a series of 20’s animated cartoons.  (Although obviously set long before that era). The Tavern Keeper was created as a Betty Boop clone and was the main character. The Tavern setting was probably a mere framing device for all sort of musical animations. The reason why none of them can comprehend the idea of not having some sort of Title or Label is because that’s how they were written - all given job-related titles but not named.

Fred the Talking Horse was a main character from a forgotten tradition of humorous oral stories where he was sometimes a trickstery anti-hero and sometimes a straight-up comedic villain protagonist.

Quincy Endicott and Margueritte Grey were characters from a satiric limerick about the greedy rich and their wacky habits. (Quincy was at least inspired by a real-life person since his name appears on a tombstone in the real world)

Possibly the same limerick where the punchline was the status-quo at the beginning of their OTGW ep, that both rivals’ mansions have become connected and they assume the other is a ghost haunting their house. Or maybe they were each from different regional variations of the same limerick about a greedy rich weirdo being lost in their own house and going mad. 

Frogland and their little boat might be from a children’s book as well, but I also think that maybe… from the vignettes shown at the opening of the series…

That one might take place outside the Unknown, and shows the real inception of Frogland. Two brothers making up stories with their toy boat by the river. Since they never shared these stories with anyone else, when these two brothers died or maybe just grew up and forgot their boyhood misadventures by the stream - these stories also ended up in the Unknown. 

The Fishing Fish we see briefly in ‘Babes in the Woods’ might be a small comedic illustration from a children’s book, or another piece of limerick, or just someone’s random notebook doodle that gained a life of its own first in the creator’s mind and then in the Unknown. 

Cloud City, the North Wind and the Queen of the Clouds were also, much like the Tavern, from a very old cartoon.

The Beast was once just a mere Boogie Man to keep young children from wandering off into the woods. Ending up forgotten in the Unknown just ended up giving him a whole world of lost souls to harvest. 

Maybe the Woodsman and his daughter were always a part of the story of the Beast. But since it seems that the Woodsman being a lantern-bearer is a fairly recent development - they might have had their own separate story. Some sort of pastoral novel about a family moving near the woods? But their narrative has been ‘hijacked’ by the Beast. 

Wirt and Greg ended up lost within the Unknown cause had they actually died in the lake that night - they would have become a Story in their town. I mean we have a moody lonely teenager and his adorable little brother disappearing/dying - on the night of Halloween - after last being seen in a graveyard - with the older brother’s last act on this earth being to hand his crush a cassette of his love poetry. Can you imagine what sort of Urban Legenda you can grow from those seeds?

But as they were not yet dead, and not a Story yet… so they were technically an Unknown story. Between the borders of life and death from a human perspective because they were about to die, and from a Story perspective because they were just about to be born.

And the ending sequence, with the little vignettes showing where all the characters from all the episodes ended up. I think that’s almost like Wirt and Greg back in the world of the living and the real - being able to create happy endings for all of those stories they've met. That’s how the Woodsman’s daughter ended up being alive all along - it was less that the Woodsman's whole tragedy was a wacky misunderstanding all along. But it became so as a gift of thanks by their new storytellers - Wirt and Greg.

Because if dreams can't come true, than why not pretend?

[kyasarinkishinuma]

Rumours

Summary: The new merc in town's been dropping by Reader's café lately, and she can't help but wonder if the food is all he comes back for.

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Reader

Themes: Fluff, café setting

AO3 link

“Today’s special, please.”

There he was again. That stoic merc everyone in town had been talking about lately. Rumour says he was a rather unsociable man, but… 

He came to your café once, and had been coming back since. Once a week, Thursdays, 2pm flat. Every single time.

And for a guy who had such an intimidating reputation… Well. He surprised you with his politeness every time he came in.

“Coming right up. Take a seat.” Bowing respectfully, you retreated within the confines of the kitchen to cook up Cloud Strife’s meal. Today? Spaghetti with garlic bread. Simple, but comforting. Your homemade food was what your regulars coming back weekly. Or at least that’s how it had been before.

“Thank you for waiting.” Within a few minutes you came back to your sole customer of the day. He had taken a seat by one of the three round tables sitting outside the abandoned wagon you had sought refuge in lately. Not as charming as those higher-class cafés and restaurants, that’s for sure. Business… had been rough lately. Yet the mercenary gratefully accepted the meal, mumbling a polite ‘thank you’ before he picked up his utensils, seeming to hesitate in your presence. You smiled warmly.

“Dig in.”

That’s all it took. The switch was immediate, from polite and poised to absolutely famished. It was funny. Endearing, even. Every time the blonde had come into your café, he ate like it was his first meal in days.

“More, please.” 

And with his manners? Almost boyish, the way he’d stare at you expectantly with his hand outstretched as he gave his emptied plate back for another serving.

“I got you covered.” 

Back into the kitchen you went, and back you came with another healthy heapful of spaghetti for the man. Cloud never had much to say, so you usually did most of the talking when he’d drop by. He didn’t seem to mind it. Never really gave any elaborate answers to your small talk, but you didn’t mind it either. Sometimes people just need a break and some good food.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You asked by the time Cloud was on his third plate, and finally starting to slow down a bit. It was almost fascinating, to watch him wolf it all down like it was nothing. And deep down, you didn’t really judge. He didn’t seem the type to have a loving family and warm food to come home to.

The man paused. “This morning,” he answered after a moment, before going back to eating. You raised both brows at that, a hint of amusement gracing your smile.

“And you’re this hungry?” 

Strife shrugged. “It’s part of the job.”

“Is it a SOLDIER thing?”

Cloud stopped eating then, and you found yourself regretting those words. Had they been a bit too bold? Of course most knew about the merc’s former association to Shinra. Whether the rumours were founded in truth or not didn’t matter when the glowing eyes gave it away. You had been about to apologize and to excuse yourself when the man turned his gaze to you, freezing you in place. Those mako eyes… Not annoyed. Calm. Thoughtful. They swept over your surroundings then, the dirt and grime of the Midgar slums.

“Your café hasn’t always been like this, has it?” The man spoke out of the blue, taking you by surprise. He seemed to take your stunned silence as an invitation to continue. “You’re a lot better at this than the other locals. You worked someplace big?”

You could only stare at the sudden bombardment of… Compliments? Were these compliments, coming from a man who fought monsters straight from your nightmares for a living? Finding him staring back expectantly… You could only assume he was being genuine about this. Or perhaps he simply wasn’t realizing the nature of what he had just said.

You nodded then, finally getting your voice back. “Yeah. I used to own a café in Sector 1 before the Mako Reactor blew. My home was destroyed, so I had to move.”

It was Cloud’s turn to be silent, blinking a bit as he processed the information. His emptied plate seemed to have long been forgotten now, the fork sitting idly next to it.

“Sorry about your home,” he spoke after a moment, turning his gaze back to the plate in front of him. You simply showed a smile, genuine and grateful.

“That means a lot.” A pause. “So… Are you still hungry?”

“What’s that damn merc up to anyway?! We told him the meeting was at 3 tops!”

Seventh Heaven was in chaos as always, with the members of AVALANCHE running around in disarray as Marlene chased after them, giggling excitedly. Tifa? Unfazed through it all, showing her impatient friend a smile from behind her counter as she prepared him a drink to calm his nerves. But… Barret was right. Where was Cloud?

“If he’s not here now, I don’t think he’s coming.” Tifa hesitated to speak the words, out of fear that Barret would just explode. Truth be told, though, they needed not be spoken at all. It was a blatant fact. Cloud… was a difficult guy to grasp. And he didn’t seem to care too much about this AVALANCHE stuff.

“Damn spikyheaded ass! I’ll show him!!” Barret’s outburst was almost comedic as he stomped around on his seat, waving his hands around. But even he seemed to come to terms with the situation as he calmed down, heaving a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms and slumped onto his seat. No point in getting so worked up over it. “Y’don’t suppose he’s at that café again?”

“Thanks for the meal.” Cloud always left so soon. He never really stayed for the small talk like most of your regulars had before the bombing of Mako Reactor 1. You never asked him to stay, though, simply showing him a smile as you got his cheque ready for him. But today… You did want to ask him one thing, before he left.

“Cloud.” He hummed, head snapping up at attention to meet your gaze as you spoke his name. “Why… do you come here? Why come here when there’s all those other big, nice cafés in the sector?”

The man furrowed his brows then, his gaze falling to the side as he shrugged. “I like your food.”

You frowned a bit then, watching him attentively. That couldn’t be all of it. You… felt it. There was something more. Was he hiding something?

“I’ve heard rumours…” You felt your heart race in your chest as you gathered the courage to address the question that had been burning in your mind since the first time he had returned for ‘today’s special’. “That… You don’t come here just for the food.”

“Why would he go there when he can have free food here?! It’s part of his damn pay! That guy don’t know how to show some damn gratitude!”

Tifa couldn’t hold back a chuckle as she watched Barret get riled up all over again, swinging his arms around. Even though Barret had a point, and it stung her heart that her childhood friend avoided spending any more time than necessary with AVALANCHE… Tifa was starting to think she may understand Cloud’s motives a bit better.

“I think… It just helps him to have someone who doesn’t expect anything from him.”

No favours, no battles. Just a warm meal and a ‘thanks’.

“...Maybe I don’t.”

Cloud’s answer came in the end. He stood then, your shocked eyes burning into his face as he slung his sword over his back and dropped a generous portion of Gil onto the table.

“Keep the change. I’ll see you next week?”

You found yourself unable to answer, cheeks burning in the slightest as you watched him stalk off back the way he came in that calm, unfazed way of his.

But when he had gotten up to leave…

You could’ve sworn you saw him smile.

[euseokz]

NEED U TO WRITE THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS SUNGCHAN FF SO BAD..,,

@ sungchan — i hate you i swear i do, so why can't i stop thinking about you ? . cws : enemies to lovers (? sort of) . college! au . masturbation (m) . delinquent! reader . wc : 0.7k+ . genre : smut (also sort of) - [pt. 2]

a/n: hope you like this nonnie ! not sure if it’s what you were expecting but . . i actually had a lot of fun with this since i’ve never written anything like it !

NERDY! SUNGCHAN who just can’t get you out of his head.

he always behaves himself, stays composed, shows to class on time, raises his hand when he knows the answer to a question, and sits in the front row so nothing will distract him. you on the other hand are the complete opposite. you show up just so you don’t fail the classes because of lack of attendance, but still get in late most days, sometimes very clearly hungover, and blatantly sleep through most of it, hiding yourself in the back with your stupid friends where the professors already know not to look if they don’t wanna get their nerves up.

you annoyed sungchan, annoyed him with your behavior, with your stupid comments during class, and with your light teasing over how he was so nerdy it was almost painful to watch — but he still couldn’t stop thinking about you, because why were you so pretty? why did your voice sound so sweet even when you spewed the stupidest things? he didn’t know what went through your head for you to behave like that, and he certainly didn’t know what went on in his head when he was alone in his dorm late at night thinking of you, his length wrapped in his hand as he stroked himself, only thoughts of you clouding his mind.

he’d think about how pretty you’d look on top of him, how sweet your cunt would be to him and take all of him so well. he imagined how good you’d feel, how cute you’d sound moaning his name, your own slipping past his lips accidentally every so often as he let out low whimpers of your name. you’d just look so good in his bed, your hair all messy and your expression flustered as he fucked into you.

sungchan wanted you, but he couldn’t have you, because what would that even do to his reputation? he was one of the top students, one of the few people actually expected to have a bright future ahead of them, so what would associating with someone like you, someone who couldn’t care less about school or academic achievements, do to him? it’d mess everything up, so he held himself back, simply ignoring you and pretending you weren’t even there, doing his best to not show that you did in fact affect him, that he did deep down want you. sungchan was a lot of things but he wasn’t dumb. he knew you liked him too at some level, if not in the extent of love in at least some way because you always made sure to show him pretty smiles, to never actually hurt him with your words, to tease him just enough to try to push his buttons and get a small reaction out of him, even if that never worked. you were meaner when you decided to tease other people, your smile turning cocky, and maybe that was because you knew you did leave a mark on them and with sungchan you somehow never did, but he still couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you liked him in the same depraved way he liked you. opposites attract after all, right?

maybe sungchan was finally going insane, wanting someone like you the lowest he could go, but he couldn’t help it. he wanted you, and he was tired of only getting to indulge in his feelings when he was alone and stroking his dick with his hand, so he finally got up the courage to talk to you, that happening one afternoon when he was the last to leave class — as per usual — and found you still in your seat, typing something on your phone, all alone if not for him.

“aren’t you gonna leave?” sungchan asked in a steady tone, his voice not faltering thankfully, looking you in the eye when he finally caught your attention. you shrugged, but got up, about to walk out when he called your name, making you stop and look back.

“what?” you asked, that pretty smile of yours already on your lips, your voice as sweet as always. sungchan looked down, thinking how he’d word it that he’d like to go out with you, but when he did and said it out loud he realized how insane it sounded, almost starting to back track until you interrupted him.

“i thought you’d never ask”

[moonsandmobilityaids]

To Be Human

Pairings: James Potter x disabled!reader (part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader universe) Summary: James can be a perfectionist, which is alright some of the time but you know full well that this isn't one of those times. Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain. Series Masterlist

The Gryffindor common room is quieter than usual, the crackling fire and occasional rustle of parchment the only sounds breaking the stillness. Most students have retired to their dormitories or found other corners of the castle to occupy, leaving behind the traces of a day filled with lessons and chatter.

But one figure remains steadfast in the dwindling light, hunched over a table cluttered with ink pots and rolls of parchment. James's brows furrow as he writes, quill moving in smooth, determined strokes. Every now and then, he pauses, eyes scanning the lines he has already penned, searching for errors or omissions.

Your gaze lingers on him from where you sit by the fire, wheelchair tucked into a cosy nook. A blanket is draped across your lap, offering a small measure of comfort against the ache that has settled in your limbs after a day of exertion. It's a familiar pain now, one you've learned to navigate through gritted teeth and sheer willpower.

Yet tonight, it's not your own discomfort that holds your attention. It's the sight before you—James, whose focus hasn't wavered from his work since dinner. He's been at it for hours, rewriting what appears to be an essay.

He writes a sentence, pauses, frowns, then crosses it out with a swift, frustrated stroke. You can almost feel the tension radiating off him, and it tugs at your heart.

"James," you call softly, not wanting to startle him but knowing that if you don't intervene, he'll likely work until dawn, oblivious to the passage of time.

His head jerks up, glasses askew, and he blinks at you as though surfacing from deep underwater. A small, weary smile touches his lips. "Hey, sweetheart. Didn't realise you were still awake."

You watch him, a mix of amusement and concern dancing in your eyes. "James, you've been at this essay for hours. It's nearly midnight."

"Is it?" James exhales heavily, raking a hand through his hair, which stands on end even more than before. "I didn't notice. I just... can't seem to get it right."

With a determined push, you roll forward, bridging the gap between you and James in two swift moves. You lean over the table, your gaze drawn to the paper he's been scratching away at for the past hour. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," he admits, tapping his quill against the edge of the page with an intensity that mirrors his frustration. He doesn't look up, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the slight furrowing of his brow. "It just doesn't feel right. I've reworded this sentence at least five times, and it still isn't perfect."

"Perfect?" you echo, tilting your head as you study him. Your eyes drift back to the essay. His handwriting, though hasty and unrefined, is legible—a far cry from the indecipherable scrawl of some students. The words flow across the page, each argument articulated with precision and clarity.

But that's the thing about James: good enough is never good enough. It has to be flawless, impeccable—perfect. This relentless pursuit of excellence is a trait you've come to associate with him, one that paints a picture of a boy driven by an insatiable desire to succeed.

It also tells you how much pressure he puts on himself.

"James," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out, placing a light hand on his arm. "You've been staring at this parchment for hours. It's good—more than good."

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with frustration. "It's not good enough," he insists, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "This is McGonagall we're talking about. She expects our best."

"Exactly, our best—not perfection." You hold his gaze, trying to convey your sincerity. "Sometimes, I think you forget that they're not the same thing."

For a moment, James is still, the rhythm of his quill ceasing mid-tap against the table's edge. He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for something unsaid, something that might bridge the gap between his relentless drive and your offer of understanding. He's been this way for as long as you've known him—always striving to prove himself, to be the very best. It's not just about meeting the high standards he sets for himself, but also those he believes others have placed upon him.

"I just..." He exhales, a slow release of breath that seems to carry the weight of his unspoken fears. His shoulders slump slightly, the tension in them easing just a fraction. "I need it to be perfect."

You study him then, your gaze softening with the edges of understanding, yet sharpening with concern. "Why?" you ask, the single word cutting through the space between you.

He blinks, caught off guard by the directness of your question. "Because," he says after a moment, his voice barely more than a whisper, "if it's not perfect, then I've failed. I've let everyone down."

The heaviness in his words settles in your chest like a stone. You reach over, placing your hand atop his where it rests on the table. His fingers are stiff beneath your touch.

"James, one essay isn't going to determine your worth," you say gently. "You don't have to be perfect all the time."

He looks down at your hands, his own still unmoving. There's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before—a rigidity that speaks of unease. "It's just... I've always been good at things. Sports, school, everything. I feel like people expect that from me now."

You nod slowly, an understanding smile playing at the corners of your lips. You know all too well the weight of self-imposed expectations, how they can feel as real and pressing as any physical burden. "I understand better than you might think," you say softly. "But remember, it's okay to not be okay sometimes. To make mistakes, to not be perfect—it's part of being human."

James opens his mouth, perhaps to protest or offer a rebuttal, but you raise your hand slightly, asking for him to hear you out.

"Listen," you begin, your voice steady despite the tremor in your thoughts. "I live with chronic pain every day. Some days, I can barely get out of bed, and other activities... well, they're simply out of the question. I've had to learn—and believe me, it wasn't easy—that I won't always be at my best. Sometimes, just making it through the day is a victory in itself."

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression softening as he absorbs your words.

"I used to feel like I was failing if I couldn't keep up with everyone else," you continue, your eyes meeting his. "But I've come to realise that just because I'm not doing things perfectly doesn't mean I'm not doing enough. Some days, showing up and trying is the best I can do."

James's sigh is soft, almost lost in the rustle of leaves above. His hand tightens around yours, a lifeline anchoring him to your words. "What if being good enough... isn't enough for me?"

"Then you're missing the point," you say gently, turning your head to catch his gaze. Your smile is small but sincere, a beacon amidst the storm inside him. "Being 'good enough' doesn't mean settling for mediocrity. It's about understanding that perfection is an unattainable goal. You excel at what you do, James, and no one can deny that. But you also need to allow yourself to be human, to have strengths and weaknesses. You don't always have to be the best. You just need to be the best you can be."

He releases a slow breath, tension seeping from his shoulders as he digests your words. A frown lingers, etched into the lines of his forehead—a testament to years spent under the weight of self-imposed expectations. "I just... I don't want to disappoint anyone."

James, you could never let us down," you say firmly, your voice a soothing balm against the sting of his insecurities. "Not me, not Remus, not Sirius. We love you for who you are, not because you're perfect."

His gaze flickers to you, the sharpness in his eyes softening into something warm and vulnerable. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, as if your words have cast a gentle Lumos in the dark corridors of his mind.

"How do you always know what to say?" he asks, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips.

"Years of practice," you reply with a slight shrug, but your eyes betray the depth of your affection. "And a lot of overthinking."

He chuckles softly, the sound like a crackling hearth driving away winter's chill. The tension bleeds from his shoulders, replaced by an ease that wasn't there before. He sets the parchment aside, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"Maybe you're right," he admits, running a hand through his hair, the gesture almost boyish in its unconcern. "Maybe I should take a break."

The corners of your mouth lift into a small smile, a warmth spreading through your chest as his fingers entwine with yours. "I think that might be best, James."

James pauses, his gaze locked on the intricate patterns etched into the wooden tabletop before lifting to meet yours. His stern facade has softened, replaced by an expression that's almost vulnerable. "Thank you, darling," he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I don't always realise how harshly I judge myself until you hold up the mirror."

Your heart flutters at his words, the affectionate gesture. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, your smile never leaving your face. "That's why I'm here, James," you reply softly, "to remind you that you don't have to carry the world on your shoulders."

He leans in then, closing the gap between you until there's nothing but shared breath and heartbeat. The kiss is gentle, a promise wrapped in warmth and understanding. It lingers, a testament to the bond you share, unbroken despite the world trying to pull it apart.

"You always know how to make me feel better," he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away.

Your smile is faint, touched with a sadness that has nothing to do with defeat. "I try."

[k0ff1n]

Even if

Fellow honest x reader (not yuu)

Summary: random summer night with the two of you sharing feelings? Established relationship btw so he ain't rejecting no one eheheh. Fluff and slight angst I think? The most they do is kiss so it's sfw.

Notes: sorry if it sucks but it's been some months since I've written anything and english is isn't my first language, in any case enjoy! :D

--------------

It was rare to see him so calm. The night was just like the past one, quiet and warm, that type of warmth that doesn't make it uncomfortable to wear a shirt but that at the same time still makes you want to drink something cold, because you know that if you drank tea it would get too hot and then that balance would be shattered. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to his surroundings, then again this was the only time of the day where he could relax, even if a little, so why take it away from him.

The usual smell of smoke lingered in the air, a thin cloud making it a little harder to see him as clearly as you wanted. He never stopped smoking, since the first day you met he always had a cigar or cigarette between his fingers, it almost amazed you how his voice didn't change that much even after all these years of consuming them. Not that you could blame him, his life had never been easy on him and if he found peace in a piece of paper that tasted like nicotine then he could keep on smoking as much as he wanted, it would probably hurt him more if he stopped this habit than keep on smoking.

Gidel wasn't around, not that it surprised you, just like his brother he usually used the late evening for himself, even if he didn't smoke he still needed some time alone, just like everybody else.

You kept on staring at him, looking at him with too much love in your eyes, even if he wasn't a nice person, even if he didn't take care of himself as much as he took care of his brother, even if the shirt he was wearing was probably the same he wore the week before because, when you don't have time and money, every little thing counts and a new piece of clothing isn't in those calculations. He wasn't the best, and he knew it, he knew it since he was little because in a world like this he would have never been enough even if he kept on trying, even if he had enough magic to go to school, to make a name for himself, one associated with bravery, power... and not a sketchy place where he had to 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 to survive.

The cloud of smoke was now on you, staining your clothes with that smell that never wants to be washed of, that smell that's better than a perfume when associated with something nice, with 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 nice, and he was, to you. Not to the students, not to his boss, not to the people that he had to convince to come to a magic place just to be sold as puppets, but to 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

To 𝘺𝘰𝘶 because 𝘺𝘰𝘶 never criticized his antics, because 𝘺𝘰𝘶 never complained if he didn't have the energy to keep everything tidy, because 𝘺𝘰𝘶 never mentioned his lack of knowledge because of the system that failed him.

To 𝘺𝘰𝘶 because he knew he loved you since the first time you met.

The yellow light of the nearby street lamp was the only thing making his figure visible to your eyes, a sight that never failed to make you smile, even if only internally sometimes.

"Doll, you are staring..."

He wasn't annoyed, even if his tone would make anyone think that, he wasn't and you knew it.

"Does it bother you?"

"...."

"You know it never does"

And there it was, that light smile he wore only when around you, one which took too much time to finally see, and now that you could you would never be bored by.

"Well that's good to know because I wasn't gonna stop anyway"

The sound of his laugh ringing in your ears was the only thing distracting you from the way his canines were shining thanks to what little moonlight reached the two of you. As much as you wanted to compliment him for every little thing about his appearance and personality it always felt as if he would take it as a joke and never believe you, despite how many times you said you loved him.

Well maybe there's a first time for everything... who knows.

"Love?"

"Mmmhh"

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

The silence after that was almost deafening.

"If you say so"

Damn him and his non existent self esteem.

"I don't just 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰 I know so"

Even if your eyes were searching for his they could never meet, thanks to his brilliant idea of 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 every time you tried to have a heartfelt conversation.

At least deciding to sit on his lap made it easier to look at him, the only downside being the two shades of red adorning his face making it harder to see his freckles in the night.

"Hey"

"𝘏𝘦𝘺"

His voice sounded muffled, probably thanks to how much he was pressing his face in the palm of your hand, surely to try and keep on hiding himself.

"Love, look at me"

Slowly, too slowly, he decided that maybe looking at you wasn't so bad, despite how much his head told him not to. His ears were twitching, probably the only thing expressing how he was feeling seeing the situation.

"You okay?"

"𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭"

What he wanted to say was something along the lines of "of course now that you are in my arms" but it sounded too cheesy even for him.

"If you say so"

Yeah he sure was, considering how hard his hands were gripping your waist and how he began to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

"It's okay love, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺"

His grip on you tightening only meant one thing, he was feeling worse than usual. Slowly moving your hands up his back you finally reached the back of his head, fluffy hair the color of caramel now between your fingers, a hum of approval murmured near your ear while your fingertips begun to gently stroke his ears. You knew he liked it, it was one of the first things he told you when you begun seeing each other and, after so much time you couldn't count how many occasions ended this way.

Finally his hands started to loose that bruising grip that had you almost blocked in the same position for too much time to be considered comfortable, deciding to move them on your hips to help keeping you on his lap.

"Do you think that Gidel will come here soon?"

"Probably not, he's usually walking near the ferris wheel at this time, going back here would take more than twenty minutes"

"Good, more time for us"

"What do you mean by tha-"

Unfortunately for him his time to speak was cut short by your mouth on his, shutting him up completely. With a hand still on the back of his head he didn't have many options but to keep the same pace as yours. As much as he didn't have money to buy things like chapstick he still had pretty soft lips, a nice contrast to the sharp teeth behind them.

Pulling away was always the hardest part, the both of you unsure on who had to separate from the other first, resulting in a rather awkward series of random messy kisses near the lips but never perfectly on them because of the dizziness.

Damn the lack of oxygen.

Small fleeting pecks were now placed on his neck, slowly going back up to once again reach his face. Finally able to look in his eyes 𝘺𝘰𝘶 were now the one left speechless. He 𝘥𝘪𝘥 look as flushed as you thought, except for the smile that adorned his face. A genuine one, probably the most beautiful one you have ever seen him wear. He was stunning, he really was. Be it the messy hair, the freckled cheeks, the honey colored irises or, in this case, the small smile gracing his lips.

You probably ended up with the same expression because the next thing you knew was him looking a little worried and asking why did you look so happy.

"Why do you think uh?"

"If I knew I wouldn't have asked no?"

He was smirking, he knew what you were thinking but he wanted to hear it, he would never get tired of hearing you say it.

"I love you, 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴?"

And of course it was, it was as clear as day but he had to listen to you say it, he had to watch the way your lips moved while you said it because damn it, it was probably the most addicting thing he had ever come across.

"𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴"

His heartbeat was calmer now, it surely was easier to hear when you face was pressed against his chest, feeling him move even so slightly with every breath he took. The positions were reversed now, his hand on the back of your head, making sure that if you fell asleep you wouldn't hit it anywhere. His other arm was still around you, keeping you close, almost shielding you from any possible danger.

The night was still warm, summer still present even if now coming to a close. At this point you were the one covered in moonlight, a blanket on your skin making you glow in an almost ethereal light. If he didn't know any better he would think you weren't from this world, then again, maybe it wasn't that far fetched.

"Are you still awake?"

"Mmmh.."

"Nothing to worry about doll, just asking"

"𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰..."

Your voice was already laced with sleep, unable to form a complete sentence but luckily still able to process what he was saying.

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦.."

"That time I told you that one day I'd tell you a secret, the most important one... to me at least"

"𝘎𝘰 𝘰𝘯... 𝘐𝘮𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸"

"Sure sure but for how much of a secret it is you probably have already figured it out..."

Silence.

You were probably sleeping now.

"𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘦"

You might be sleeping but even if you didn't hear his words just now he was sure you would be hearing them again when he'd finally find the courage to ask you to marry him... even if in his own way.

[dreadfutures]

Great Adult Presents Between Adult Friends

a list inspired by gifts I've given or been asked for or want, but not including crafts and art you make yourself because those are more obviously treasures. this list is for "oh I have no idea what to gift/make someone"

Special Interest Magazines - from Star Trek, Astronomy, to SpecLit, and beyond

Little Trinkets - for their desks at work/elsewhere, things they can look at and think of you. candles in fun shapes! weather crystals! little carved figurines!

Calendars - desk and wall calendars with art on subjects they're interested in, like National Parks or Seasons or Alphonse Mucha or anything

Food Gift Baskets - either fresh season fruit like Harry & David Pears or non perishable things like assorted hot chocolates to try, or hot sauces, or cheeses. I like this strat better than gift carding.

Comfort Items - Blankets for display and for outside and for inside comfort, pillows both decorative and practical, hot water bottles, fluffy robes. How likely is someone gonna buy it for themselves? but they'll appreciate having it!

Museum Memberships. They can always choose not to renew in the coming year, but a museum membership often gives them complimentary / reciprocal free admission to other museums within the same association. It also often lets them take +1's! A single one time gift can turn into a whole year of goodness :) AND this goes for BOTANICAL GARDENS AND AQUARIUMS AND ZOOS TOO.

A Book That Was Important To You Sometime - Even if I don't end up reading it or liking it I am honored and happy to have a book someone cared about in my collection, especially if they tell me why. I will think of them always and it feels like a piece of them!

Special Editions of things they already have - a special edition book or album or game case or anything will be a beautiful addition even if I've already read/consumed that media.

These are great for semi-surprise gifts, where you don't just go and ask "Hey, I'm getting you something, what do you like."

As for other gifts where you aren't so concerned with surprise, since they may require some coordinating:

A Large Version of Their Favorite Scent (perfume, cologne)

An Appointment at a Cat Cafe

Tickets to a Museum/Aquarium "After Dark" Event

Tickets to a Museum/Gallery Special Exhibition

An Intro Class for a Specialty Hobby (like book binding, cooking, ceramics)

A Piece of Art from a Local Artist they would never find elsewhere (photographers, 2d media artists, sculptors, anything) (safe subjects include: birds, fields, beaches, mountains, urban art specific to their home; more adventurous subjects and depictions depending on how well you know their style; safe size is small like a post card or 8x11", but for something you're confident in, bigger is special! aluminum prints are very nice)

COOKBOOKS. Classic cookbooks like Better Homes & Gardens or good French cooking staples, or niche books like for a specific ethnic cuisine, or for a specific type of food like ramen, or cookbooks by their favorite celebrity

Art Book for a Favorite Movie/Series.

Designer Measuring Cups/Bowls. Upgrade them from the plain plastic/glass/metal that they use. There are amazing porcelain/china designs for even things like measuring SPOONS (this was a hit with my sister who bakes - and that set came with a matching apron)

Resin Lamps. From humpback whales, cloud scapes, to Pokemon, there are beautiful resin displays that light up and are more unique than just a figurine.

[blairstales]

The Cailleach | Scottish Folklore

The story of the Cailleach can change drastically depending on what area of Scotland you are in, making her a hard figure to pin down as one thing or another.

In some stories, she transforms each year at Tobar na Cailleach(well of the Cailleach) from an old woman into youth, and the change of seasons depict her cycle from youth into elderly age.

In other stories, the Cailleach is more of a villainous figure, that either stubbornly fights back the forces of spring(and is ultimately overcome by the united forces of the sun, dew, and rain), or the Cailleach holds spring prisoner in the form of a beautiful young woman named Bride. Bride is eventually rescued by a young man named Aengus, and their union brings forth spring.

To again bring on winter, she washes her great plaid in the whirlpool of Corryvreckan, a spectacle that heralds the onset of winter storms.

The Corryvreckan Whirlpool

Thanks to her winter and storm association, it is perhaps no surprise mountains named after her, such as Beinn na Cailleach, often become engulfed in storm-clouds during the winter months.

However, there are also stories that reflect a side of the Cailleach that goes beyond her association with winter.

“-… it is undoubted that the Cailleach is the guardian spirit of a number of animals. ‘The deer have the first claim on her. They are her cattle; she herds and milks them and often gives them protection against the hunter. Swine, wild goats, wild cattle and wolves were also her creatures. In another aspect she was a fishing goddess. “ A Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Briggs (1976)

Sometimes, she is a guardian of sacred wells, demonstrated in Alasdair Alpin MacGregor’s “The Peat-Fire Flame” which recounts a tale where the Cailleach’s failure to cover a spring with a stone results in a catastrophic flood and the forming of Loch Awe.

“But one day, weary with hunting the corries of Cruachan, she fell asleep on the sunny hillside. Not until the third morning did she awaken; and by that time her heritage lay beneath the waters of the loch that since then has been known as Loch Awe.” The Peat-Fire Flame: Folk-Tales and Traditions of the Highlands and Islands by Alasdair Alpin MacGregor (1937)

Othertimes, she is a source of healing, such as at the ancient shrine of Tigh nam Bodach(sometimes also called Tigh na Cailleach), which is associated with the Cailleach, the Bodach (Old Man), and their daughter Nighean(who is not always mentioned).

“The Tigh na Cailleach near Glen Lyon in Perthshire, Scotland”

At the shrine, there are stones known as healing stones, and they are carefully taken care of. Historically, someone had to put them inside on the first day of November, and take them out on the first day of May. As well as that, they were to be give a fresh bed of straw on winter festival days.

“In what is believed to be the oldest uninterrupted pre-Christian ritual in Britain, the water-worn figures from the River Lyon are taken out of their house every May and faced down the glen, and returned every November. The ritual marked the two great Celtic fire festivals of Beltane(Summer) and Samhain (Winter)and the annual migration of Highland cattle on and off the hills.” Highland Perthshire

So who is the Cailleach? She is the changing of seasons, sometimes a protector of sacred wells and animals, and can even be a source of healing. Basically, she is likely the most complicated subject to study from Scottish Folklore.

Further Reading:

The Folk-lore Journal, Volume 6; Volume 21: The Folk-Lore Of Sutherlandshire  by Miss Dempster

The Celtic Review, Vol 5 (1905): Highland Mythology by E. C. Watson

The Peat-Fire Flame: Folk-Tales and Traditions of the Highlands and Islands by Alasdair Alpin MacGregor (1937)

A Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Briggs (1976)

The Folk-Lore of the Isle of Man by A. W. Moore[1891]

Carmina Gadelica, Volume 2, by Alexander Carmicheal, [1900]

Highland Perthshire (website with a blog post)

Historic Audio Recordings

Healing stones at Taigh na Caillich (Track: ID SA1964.72.A24, Date: 1559) “There were healing stones in a house in Gleann na Caillich; the shepherds looked after them. Talk about shepherds in the glen.”

Anecdote regarding Beinn na Caillich and Gleann na Caillich. (Track ID: SA1964.017.B6, Date: 1964) “An old woman and an old man lived in a house in Gleann na Caillich. The shepherd had to put them inside on the first day of November, and take them out on the first day of May. He also had to thatch their house each year.”

Information about St Fillan’s healing stones at Killin. (Track ID: SA1964.71.A5, Date: 1964) There were stones, known as the bodach and cailleach, in a house in Gleann na Caillich in Glen Lyon. Discussion about St Fillan’s stones at Killin. Different stones healed different diseases. The miller was in charge of them. They had to be freshly bedded with straw thrown up by the river on Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve. This is still done [in 1964]. The person in charge of St Fillan’s relics was known as An Deòrach and he had a croft in a place called Croit an Deòir.

[polliwoggers]

would you believe I sat down five days ago intending to iron out gijinka designs. and then these horrible cats appeared on my screen instead. truly deplorable behavior if you ask me

more info on these cats and their world below the cut. FYI its kind of long

Nightstar - longtime leader of DreamClan, known for his grim efficiency and penchant to orchestrate complex plans well in advance. Also, very full of himself. Has been leader for as long as anyone can remember, but is not open with the Clan about how many lives he has remaining. Does not speak to anyone of his communication with StarClan; not even his deputy or the medicine cats.

Nightmask - deputy of DreamClan and son of Nightstar, for whom he is named. It is just as confusing as it sounds, and neither the Clan at large nor Nightmask himself are all too fond of Nightstar's vain naming decisions. Nightmask is fully confident in his ability to lead the Clan when his time comes, but something about his father having funnelled him into this leadership role from kithood makes him... nervous. Not that he'd show it, of course. That would be weakness. He is a fast and nimble fighter.

Tansyclaw - technically the primary medicine cat of DreamClan, but rarely partakes in healing. Has a vast knowledge of herbs and poisons. Only took on the medicine cat position for the political power it would net for him and his suspiciously close friend, Singlesky.

Acornshine - functional medicine cat of DreamClan, only recently granted her full name as she ascended to full medicine cat status. Although less experienced than her past mentor, Tansyclaw, matters of medicine and communing with StarClan often fall upon her. Looks forward to Ripplepaw’s visits to chat with her in the medicine den.

Darkslash - senior warrior of DreamClan. Blind in one eye from a past battle, with the scar still visible. Came out of retirement to mentor the also visually-impaired Gooeypaw. A bit of a grouch.

Dandytail - warrior of DreamClan, and largest cat in the Clan. his heft and strength grant him the advantage in most every fight, but he has the tendency to get greedy for glory in the heat of battle. This often leads him to attempt and fumble fancy maneuvers that ultimately cost him the win. Not much for hunting, as he struggles to move quietly. Has a big heart, and still acts like a kit in some ways.

Singlesky - warrior of DreamClan, and a gifted speaker. She is excellent at hunting, and will sometimes collect trophies of her more interesting or well-preserved kills. Has a great appreciation for flowers. Her every suggestion is parroted by Tansyclaw at Clan meetings.

Waddlesplash - warrior of DreamClan. Fairly mild-mannered. Dislikes Dandytail. Looks up to Nightmask, who was their mentor before Waddlesplash was promoted to warrior status.

Puffypaw - Apprentice of Nightstar, but is rarely trained by him. instead, Nightmask or another warrior usually fills in for his training. if Nightstar had no intention of training him, why did he choose to make Puffypaw his apprentice in the first place? Nightstar has high expectations for the young cat, it would seem…

Gooeypaw - Apprentice of Darkslash. Is named for his eye condition, which makes his eyes appear constantly goopy and clouds his vision. His poor eyesight makes him more than a little clumsy, and often has to invent new ways of doing tasks other cats would find a breeze. Gets along splendidly with Puffypaw.

Bandedpaw - Apprentice of Dandytail, and first to find Puffypaw all alone in the woods on a windy newleaf day. Together with Gooeypaw, Bandedpaw forms the main triad of Puffypaw's friends in DreamClan. His mentor, Dandytail, is less than enthused that his apprentice is associating with someone he still sees as an outsider, smelling of the twolegplace…

Ripplepaw - Apprentice of Singlesky, and best friends with Acornshine. Conveniently, since Singlesky is always in the medicine den to converse with Tansyclaw, Rippleclaw gets to see her friend quite often! She's extremely proud of Acornshine's promotion to full medicine cat, and hopes that she will earn her full name soon, too! So long as she follows everything her mentor says, she’s sure to become a warrior in only a few moons! Has a small crush on Puffypaw.

Applewhisp - elder of DreamClan, and oldest cat in the Clan. Doesn't do much these days but laze around and huff irritatedly at younger cats who linger too long near the elders' den. Likes to tell stories, but isn’t very good at it. A bit of a pushover.

Harvest Heart - a mysterious, unpredictable cat who claims to have been cast out of the Clans thousands of moons ago -- but it would be impossible for any cat to live that long, wouldn't it? During his travels, he acquired followers from all walks of life. As it stands, he and his small following pose little threat to DreamClan, but it’s always best to stay alert.

Zap of a Passing Storm - the first of Harvest Heart's followers, hailing from a faraway tribe that she refuses to speak about. A fast and vicious fighter, she is easily the most loyal to Harvest Heart's cause -- whenever he can remember what it is, anyway. She often requests to be referred to only by her full name, as anything less than that would be an insult to her honor. No cats respect this. Poor thing.

Francisca - the second of Harvest Heart's followers, having come from the kittypet life in a distant twoleg nest. After her housefolk died, she was turned out onto the cold, unfamiliar streets of the twolegplace. She would surely have frozen to death, were it not for Harvest Heart's charity in her time of need. She travels with him now, as she has nowhere else to go. She has become close with Flamebounce.

Flamebounce - the third of Harvest Heart's followers, originating from the Clans themselves. After a wildfire ravaged her home territory, she was left with nowhere to go, and no idea if any of her Clanmates survived. She struggled to breathe through her smoke-sickness, and would have died if Harvest Heart had not stepped in to help. She greatly misses her old Clan, and often wonders if anyone else managed to escape the fire -- but, even if she were able go back to her old life, she could never leave Francisca behind.

Mags - A wandering loner who sometimes crosses paths with DreamClan. Suspiciously friendly to the Clan cats. Knows a lot about twolegs. Stays very far from Harvest Heart’s rogue group at all costs.

Mars - Never that far behind Mags. thinks it’s hilarious to leave ominous objects for Clan cats to find and catastrophize into some world-ending prophecy. Aside from this odd behavior, he seems totally disinterested in Clan life.

Ms. Susie - beloved kittypet of the CEO of Haltmann Works Land Development Company. Doesn't see why those savage forest cats would mind losing their tacky bushes and trees if it means they could live in the glorious abundance of the twolegplace; or, more likely, she just doesn't care what they think. Often sneaks into Clan territory to meet with cats unknown. Aware of Puffypaw's existence, and could potentially use that knowledge as blackmail material against certain cats in high positions…

Fluffy - a friendly, fluffy kittypet whom Puffypaw likes to chat with to see how things in the twolegplace are going. Often asks if Puffypaw would like to live with him and his housefolk. Puffypaw is hesitant to officially accept or decline the offer, but he's happy to share Fluffy's food when he offers it!

[syntheticfoxfire]

Tremors | Niragi Suguru | [A, F]

Summary: Between your unspoken worries and Niragi proudly showing you the game he's been working on, something goes wrong and it's a mess. [real world au] Word count: 5.7k Warnings: mentions of abusive relationship, implied smut

The train shakes and you sway from side to side in your seat. It’s a nice day, the sun is shining and the breeze is gentle on the skin. Everyone has to be enjoying it somewhere outside because the train is almost empty. It’s a rare and welcomed occurrence. 

You look out the window, barely able to stay still and control your bubbling excitement. You watch the building and trees pass by in a blur of movement. You watch the clouds, try to count the white cars, anything to keep your mind from wandering and imagining. It’s useless really. The only thing on your mind is him.

If you’re honest, it’s a little embarrassing that you’re like this. You’re not a highschooler anymore, and this isn’t a stupid crush. Your relationship is long established, long enough that you’d think the bubbly and nervous feelings one associates with new love would long since disappear, but that’s not the case. Maybe you’d be a little more accepting of the childish rush of joy in different circumstances, but as it stands it’s only been a week since you’ve seen Niragi. A week. And you have chosen to take some time for yourself. So there’s really no reason you should be feeling like a child about to go to Disneyland.

But there’s more to it, isn’t it? You sigh and lean your forehead against the cool glass. Feeling like a bubbling pot that got its lid taken off, you deflate in your seat, pondering.

Niragi’s been stressing over work again and he’s insufferable when he’s stressed. Not always, but usually. Sometimes it’s quite nice. He gets more dominant. And hungry. Always so hungry for you and your body. Fucking like rabbits is about the only thing that calms him. And you’re not complaining. If only that was it.

Other times, like now, he’s… well, not the same. 

He gets more dominant as well, but in a different way. It’s almost controlling. And loud. All he does is yell and you can’t seem to do anything right. He’s a perfectionist. And whenever he’s stressed, nothing could ever meet his standards. He has a bad temper, you know that about him. You’ve always known. He doesn’t do too good of a job hiding it - if he’s even trying at all. 

The point is, in times like this he’s actually scary. 

He’s never hurt you but you’re not sure he wouldn’t ever do it.

Not on purpose. You don’t think he’d ever get violent with you like that. However, you can imagine it happening by accident. You’d say or do something wrong, or maybe just be at the wrong place at the wrong time when his frustration is at its highest and bam, your body would hurt and he’d look at you like he doesn’t recognize you. You can almost feel the sting of your cheek, your fingers touching the tender skin. He’d just stand there with a shocked expression, and he’d be shaking. Would he try to approach you? Would he apologize? Cry? Double down?

You can’t be sure, but just the reality of you being able to imagine the scene so vividly in your mind scares you. It’s not right, you know that. But he can be so sweet. He is sweet. He needs you and you need him. Maybe once you’re not so young and wild it’ll get better - then again, the clock is ticking.

Your phone buzzes and despite your gloomy thoughts you smile when you see it’s a message from Niragi. And then another one. He always gets so clingy when you’re not around. Apparently something came up so he won’t be able to make it to the station to pick you up. And he tells you to hurry. To go straight home. To text him when you get off the train. And to text or call him if you even think anyone is being creepy. You roll your eyes.

Niragi has a habit of being way too possessive and protective. Not that you mind, not really. Your social circle is tiny anyway, and more than anything you want your friends to be his friends too. It’s challenging, but you make it work. You’re more of a homebody too, and if Niragi suggests it and you do go party in a club, you’re more than happy to stay by his side.

And he likes it. He’s always walking around carrying himself like he owns the place, as long as he has his arm tightly wrapped around your waist. You must admit that it feels good to you too. It’s hard to feel wanted in this world. Niragi makes you feel that way.

That being said, it has its drawbacks. Should you get separated, things tend to get messy. For some reason he always acts a little off after he finds you. He drapes himself over you, he won’t let you go anywhere alone. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he needs to reassure himself somehow by clinging to you. Like needs. But that doesn’t make any sense, does it.

And if someone touches you, it’s over for them. Niragi always miraculously finds out and makes sure the person in question knows they’ve fucked up. It usually ends up either with you dragging Niragi away by force or the two of you getting kicked out after he started a fight. More often the latter. He’s really scary when he’s angry.

But so sweet when he isn’t.

As soon as the train stops at the station, you get off and text Niragi as he told you to do.

If you get here within thirty minutes, I’ll show you what I’m working on.

He always knows how to shift your mind to what you love about him. You’re out of the station and hurrying through the streets towards your second home right away. There are so many memories hidden behind each corner. The cafe you frequently visit and have Niragi tease you about the drinks you pick. The park where you so often walk and enjoy the sunshine during the summer and his eyes linger on you just for a second longer when you smile at him.

It’s so easy to forget all the bad times. The red flags.

You skip down the streets and smile at strangers you pass. Might as well spread the good mood in some way. 

Few minutes later, you’re unlocking the door to the apartment building and running up the stairs. Another minute later you finally unlock the front door and step into the apartment. It smells like home here, more than in your actual home. You take off your shoes and turn to lock the door. Before you get to finish the task, however, you’re pushed against the door and there’s a firm, warm body on yours. His hands are already wrapped around your waist and his lips press openmouthed kisses to your neck. You shiver, chuckling.

“I missed you too,” you sigh, finishing locking up. You turn in his hold and Niragi wastes no time melting his lips against yours, tongue invading your mouth as soon as he gets the chance. You moan into the kiss and feel him smirk. He takes his time kissing you like he needs to make sure you’re real. That you’re still his. Remind you of his claim over you. You let him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Finally he lets you breathe, but he doesn’t move away. He needs to breathe the same air you’re breathing, his forehead against yours. His eyes are dark but with a hint of softness. You raise a hand to his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. He leans into your touch.

“We should really talk some more about you moving in,” he says. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice but you know better than to believe he doesn’t mean it. You know it’s something he’s wanted for a while and that he’s getting impatient. The only thing that’s keeping him from blowing up at you about it is, you guess, that you’re basically living here anyway.

“Missed me that much, huh?” you tease back, avoiding the conversation. You’re not in the mood and you know it would end in a fight. He knows too so he lets you off the hook. For now. You give him an hour at most, and in that time, you need to prepare yourself for whatever is about to come. Why are you so hesitant to move in anyway?

“You have no idea, baby,” he purrs and with one last kiss he pushes himself off you. You go unpack the few items you’ve brought with you. It’s true that you’re basically living here already. You have most of your stuff here, he let you - in a rare case of a compromise - reorganize the kitchen and bathroom so that the stuff you need is within your reach. The apartment already feels and for all purposes is your home. 

At the same time you like the freedom and opportunity to escape his bad moods that having your own place, albeit shared with roommates, provides. But then again, his apartment has privacy, and well, him. What’s worse - his moods or missing him? You wish you knew.

You finish unpacking and change into more comfortable clothes before stepping out of the room to look for your boyfriend. You yelp when he catches you from behind, licking a long stripe up your neck. You smack his arm playfully but give him a stern look.

“I told you I hate it when you scare me like that,” you pout though he can’t see it with his face buried in your neck.

“I just want you to be prepared. The game is pretty scary, you know,” he hums against your skin, sucking a mark just under your ear. You gasp, and for once it’s not because of his attention but from the implication in his words. You know that the project they’re working on right now in his job is just some fps shooter, nothing scary.

“So it’s the one you’ve been working on this whole time? The solo project?” you turn in his arms, cupping his face in excitement. He nods and bites his lip, watching you gush about how much you’re looking forward to seeing it, listening to your praises of his hard work and dedication. He shushes you with another kiss, this one slower but deeper. You smile. He only kisses you like that when you make him flustered. Or that’s what you call it anyway because it sounds better than admitting he kisses you because he doesn’t know how to cope with whatever he’s feeling. To admit you’re sure that a kiss is not the first thing that comes to his mind as a reaction. You’ve noticed the twitch of his eyes, the slight strain in his smile. 

It’s the same look he gives you before he beats a drunken guy that flirted with you.

Niragi isn’t very vocal about his feelings. He never talks about his feelings. Honestly, you think he isn’t really feeling them, pushing them all away until he blows up. You get it. Anger is safe. Anger doesn’t hurt him. But it isn’t very productive either.

He’s never told you much about his past, which is telling in and of itself, but from the scraps of information you’ve pieced together, you suppose you understand. 

Still his serious communication issues cause problems in your relationship sometimes. Understandably. Which makes it even more surprising that you can’t say that there’s ever been a time you haven’t felt loved. He makes sure you know it, proving it with his actions rather than words. Your friends might tease you for it but you know they’re also jealous. For all his imperfections, you can’t imagine someone would love you as much as he does.

And maybe that’s the problem.

He pulls away and you smile warmly at him. He warns you that it’s not done and that there are some bugs and stuff to be done but you assure him you don’t care. You know it’s going to be as perfect as it physically can be. With how critical he is of himself, he wouldn’t allow his work to be anything less than perfect. 

You study him as you walk through the apartment. He looks the way he always does, cool and unbothered but you see the little hints. He’s nervous. Of course he would be. You know how much time and effort he’s put into this alongside the projects for his work. Despite what most people think about him when they see him, Niragi is actually really smart. Like very fucking intelligent. It scares you sometimes - mostly because he’s also really childish and impulsive. Not the best combination.

“You sure you wanna see it? I thought you said you don’t like scary stuff,” he smirks. It makes you pause for a bit. This is the second time he warns you about it, something he never does. He hates having to repeat himself.

“Is it really that scary?” you ask, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. He cups your jaw and runs his thumb the flesh, almost daring you to bite him with his eyes. You don’t.

“Just a little bit,” he shrugs and it doesn’t make you feel better but you decide that this is really important to him so you’ll manage. He looks at you expectantly.

“Alright, show me then,” you nod at him and jump a little to look cuter. It must work because he smiles and shakes his head, his hand falling to the small of your back.

He leads the way to his home office. The blinds are closed. The room is dark, safe for the light from the screen. It’s clean, not a speck of dust to be seen, but messy with all kinds of cables and parts lying around. You remember he’s been talking about upgrading his computer for a while.

He sits down on his chair and you don’t need any encouragement to sit on his lap. One of his hands wrap around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. It feels good. Safe. Domestic even. You feel yourself relax despite the curiosity gnawing at your nerves. This position is familiar and your brain is flooded with another wave of memories. 

Why are you so on edge today?

His arm around you feels like home. The hours he’s spent holding you like this while you played a game on his lap, or watched him play, feel like liquid comfort. You could drown in it.

With his free hand Niragi controls the mouse, clicking away until the screen goes dark and the game starts. You jump a little when you hear music coming from the speakers. How did he do that? He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“One of the guys helped me,” he explains as you mouth a silent ‘how’. You nod, remembering that one of his coworkers was dabbling in music, sound effects and the like even in his free time. Your friends are his, his are yours. No matter how few of them there is.

He explains the controls to you, tells you what to do and not to do unless you want to crash the game but nothing more than that. You listen attentively and immediately try what he told you in gameplay. Sometimes you feel him tense behind you, clench his jaw or sigh when he notices a mistake or something he doesn’t like. You do your best to reassure him, commenting on things you like instead. Or turning your head to kiss him. Distraction works the best.

So far it seems like a pretty standard game. The main character is a university student. You can’t see much about them as it’s in the first person pov. They are on their way from school now. The music playing in the background started off nice and pleasant but gradually it just keeps getting more and more ominous, hitting a crescendo when colorful fireworks erupt in the pinkish afternoon sky.

“Huh? Isn’t it too early for fireworks?” you comment off-handedly, turning to look at Niragi who just bites your shoulder and nods for you to pay attention to what’s happening on the screen. You shake your head but listen, intrigued.

When you look back, the surroundings have changed. The streets are dark and abandoned. It’s quiet. You frown and feel Niragi kiss up your neck.

“It’s not scary yet,” he whispers into your ear helpfully. You trust him- 

You trust him. 

You trust him and walk around the city with your character in search for clues. You find nothing. You’re just about to ask your boyfriend for help when the building not far away lights up. You make a little confused sound but go to the destination. It says that a game will soon start there.

“So meta,” you tease, only to be bitten again. There’s more strength to it now. It comes as a surprise and it startles you. You hyperfocus on him.

“Just you wait,” he smirks. He’s getting excited, but you feel like he’s getting more nervous too. It’s worrying you a bit. There’s that spark in his eyes and in the way he speaks, but his hand on your waist holds you tightly. Almost too much. Thumb of his other hand is stroking across your tight. You decide to just go through with the game without analyzing his behavior too much. It still passes as normal.

So you go with what the game tells you to do. There are more characters now that you can interact with. You talk with them some, learning more about them but not the situation your character got stuck in, unfortunately. You praise him for his writing skills, and you swear he both preens at the praise and gets the rug pulled out from under his feet with it. Your heart aches a little. Why can’t he take a compliment?

Then the game in the game starts and all your thoughts are thrown out of the window.

It’s brutal. Try as you might, the characters around you all die in horrible ways. Sometimes by accident, sometimes because you don’t react fast enough. Either way it’s horrifying, not in the jumpscare-ish type of way, but something inside you just doesn’t take it well. Maybe you just feel for the characters too much, got too absorbed, whatever the reason might be, you’re shaking and your eyes are tearing up and then you can’t focus and your character dies out of nowhere and you jump back from the keyboard.

Niragi is there to catch you. One of his hands is still around your waist, the other one stroking through your hair now. He lets you turn to the side so you can bury your face in his neck. He kisses your forehead.

“I told you it was scary,” he scoffs. It’s hard to notice since he’s trying to hide it but you know him too well. He’s upset - angry. As always, it’s a puzzle what the anger means. He remains gentle though, caring. So your best guess is that something about your reaction has hurt him. Of course anger is the only reaction he knows to that. He won’t tell you what’s going on either. You know that if you asked, or worse pushed for him to answer, he’d explode on you.

Maybe he’d really hit you this time.

…Stop.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’m such a coward,” you murmur, nuzzling closer to him, “But maybe I could just watch you play instead? I mean if there’s more.” 

He tenses again. You move so you can look at him. He looks confused and you give him a tight smile. 

“I mean, the idea is cool and I’m curious what other games there are but it’s too cruel for me to play,” you admit, “You know, I guess I’d rather die myself than let someone else die.” Finally he huffs a small laugh too. It’s the one that means he thinks you’re being stupid but you don’t mind. Whatever was troubling him seems to have receded at least slightly.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mocks but he leans closer and takes control of the character as the game where you died starts over.

You stay cuddled to him, watching and wincing as he goes through his own creation. His playstyle is the exact opposite of yours. He’s cold, merciless. If there’s an option to sacrifice someone, he does so without a moment of hesitation. If the task is to kill, he’s happy to bash somebody’s head in. 

Not just the character but Niragi himself. 

You watch him intently, perhaps more than you watch the screen. There’s a wide, pleased smirk on his face. He laughs every time he gets to kill someone in an especially painful or morbid way.

It’s genuine, that smile, that laughter. Bright and happy.

You feel your heartbeat speeding up and deep down you wonder if you really know who your boyfriend is. You understand it’s just a game, but the excitement in his eyes is too genuine. He’s really into it. If you’re honest, it worries you. Then again, maybe it’s just because of the thoughts you’ve had for the last couple weeks. You wonder if you’re only worried because now you can imagine him both beating you and having fun doing it. 

You shake your head a little. No. Your Niragi would never. 

Not on purpose anyway.

The room goes perfectly dark and you realize he switched off the computer. You straighten up and smile at him in the darkness. Now that his hands are free he wraps them around you again. You gladly accept the comfort. The reminder that he’s not a monster, that he’s warm and that he loves you.

“Was it that bad?” he asks. The excitement from the game lingers in his voice but you note the other thing in his voice. It’s like he’s testing you. He’s a good actor when he needs to be.

“It was great, actually,” you hum and loop your arms around his neck. You play with the loose strands of his hair. He hasn’t tied it today, you finally notice.

“That’s why you kept looking at me?” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice. You know you need to be careful now.

“Yeah, I told you it was scary. It does a great job of setting the mood and when you talk to the characters, I could really feel for them and it was just hard to watch them die,” you share your opinion, whining a little at the end, “And I’m curious about the storyline! I can root and relate to the main character so I think it’s really well done. I guess I’m just too soft for it.” You chuckle and see him roll his eyes even through the darkness. You sigh, leaning closer. He’s still a little worked up. His shoulders are tense and he holds you close instead of caressing you. You kiss along his jaw and he melts under you, his hands sliding down to your hips.

“Besides how am I supposed to focus with this handsome eye candy right in front of me,” you tease, sucking on his neck, “I really missed you.” 

He growls, grabbing your chin and slamming your mouths together. It’s good. He’s not angry. He wants you. You press yourself closer to him. You’re desperate to feel him, to have him. You just want your boyfriend, not the paranoid images your mind insists on creating.

“We’re not done here,” he says nonchalantly when he’s done kissing you breathless.

[…..]

He orders your favorite food for dinner and you laze on the couch together, waiting for it to arrive. You’re lying between his legs, back against his chest. He’s so warm even with the clothes separating you. You’re playing with his hands, intertwining your fingers, admiring how large his hands seem compared to yours. He allows it, relaxed and, dare you say, happy. 

You talk about things that happened since you’ve seen each other, he mostly talks about work and you about your own life and the shenanigans that your roommates got into. He listens, only ever interrupting to kiss down your neck or bite your earlobe. You feel playful enough to get revenge when it’s his turn to talk. You know Niragi loves the attention as much as the knowledge that you actually listen to him, making little noises to let him know you’re still focused on his words despite nibbling on his neck.

You’re happy and comfortable. This is how relationship should feel, and for a moment you forget about the intrusive thoughts that have been bothering you.

“What do you really think of the game?” he asks finally. Of course your bubble of serenity had to disappear eventually.

You should’ve known it was still on his mind.

You sigh, holding his hands on your stomach. You think for a moment before speaking. Somehow the atmosphere turned serious and heavy. It’s important to him, more than you thought. That much is clear. Only you don’t know why. You know you need to be careful, but honest. So you take your time choosing your words.

“I think… Well, trust me or not, I see the appeal. It might not be my cup of tea but I understand why some people enjoy games like this. Shit, let me play when I’m stressed and I will be into it like no one else,” you laugh and see him smirk at you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost cautious. It doesn’t look good on him. You’re not used to seeing him like that. 

“I mean, we all need to relieve our stress and frustration somehow. Sometimes people just feel like destroying something, hurting someone, killing someone,” you speak slowly, calmly, “Just… Just know that even if I don’t enjoy playing games like that, your game, it doesn’t mean it’s bad. And that you like it certainly doesn’t make you weird or anything. I don’t care. I’m just happy to see you happy. I love you, you know?” You smile, your little rant now over. You shift higher to kiss him gently. He returns the kiss, all remaining tension left his body.

“So what was your favorite mini-game? Was it live-or-die maze one?” he inquires, pulling you closer. You chuckle, more than anything glad to see him return to normal. And this question, you can answer.

You talk for hours. Laugh, kiss. He seems different. You can’t pinpoint how exactly, but you feel it’s not a bad change. You feel like you didn’t fuck up with your answer.

[…..]

It doesn’t take long for him to seduce you again once you’ve had dinner. Frankly, you’re surprised he waited that long. 

Sex with Niragi is always amazing. Even if he’s in a mood for a rough and long night, he takes care of you. And as always, tonight too you fall asleep in his arms, safely wrapped in his loving embrace.

What’s unusual, though, is that you don’t sleep peacefully.

Your mind is plagued by nightmares. Visions of people screaming in agony, running away. You can’t move, paralyzed with fear. You don’t see what they’re running away from until it’s too late.

Niragi.

But it’s not your Niragi. This version of him is different. He looks the same but there’s a cruel glint in his eyes. He swings a gun around like it weighs nothing. He shoots every single living thing around, laughing at the mayhem. You make the mistake of whispering his name. He looks your way and tears flood your eyes instantly. He knows you. But you wish he didn’t. 

He reaches you quickly and pulls your hair. You scream and call for help, struggle against him, pushing and punching but he’s so strong and he keeps laughing and you’re crying and scared and desperate.

“y/n!”

Your eyes shoot open and the first thing you see is Niragi and you panic, trying to escape from him. But then obvious hurt and confusion flash across his face, just for a second, before his jaw clenches and you know he’s angry and holding himself back, letting go of your arms and sitting back.

It wasn’t real. 

He’s straddling you, running his hand through his hair. This is your Niragi. The one with many flaws and dangerous anger issues but also the loving boyfriend who always keeps you safe. 

Not the psychotic maniac you saw in your dream.

Your body reacts on its own. You lunge forward and hug him tightly, squeezing the life out of him. He stills before, carefully, he envelops you in his arms. You sniff, nuzzling closer, hiding your face in his chest. 

He strokes your hair and back, slowly so he doesn’t scare you. You listen to his heartbeat, bask in his warmth. He’s quiet. You can almost hear the gears turning in his mind. Despite his behavior sometimes, you know he’d hate it, hate himself, if you were truly afraid of him. And you know that’s exactly what he saw in your eyes before - fear.

“Can we lie down?” you say weakly and Niragi nods. His hands never leave your body as he helps you lie back down and tucks you under his chin. Having his arms around you makes you feel safe and soothes you, even if you can feel the nervous, angry energy radiating off him. 

You try to shake off some of the lingering anxiety and tangle your fingers into his hair. It seems to help both of you relax until you’re able to speak. Niragi’s not going to ask, you know that, instead he’ll wait for you to talk, getting more and more impatient in the process. You really need to talk to him about that.

“I had a nightmare,” you begin slowly, still playing with his hair.

“Guessed that much,” he comments. Venom drips from his words and you’re both annoyed and shaking your head at his childishness. But underlying is the urge to flinch.

This is your Niragi. Not the nightmare one.

“You were there,” you mention and suddenly he’s paying close attention, “But… You were different. Like you were in the game. You were just killing everyone and then you saw me and I knew that it didn’t matter because you’ll just hurt me too and you looked so… satisfied.” 

You feel his arms tighten around your shaking body. You haven’t even realized you were trembling.

“You think I’d hurt you?” he asks, tone flat. It’s unfortunate that he asks the question you’ve pondered for weeks. At least you know the answer. But are you ready to say it?

You know he’s close to snapping already. Not in the violent outburst, no, not now that you’re shaking in his embrace. But the silent, cold distancing himself thing he does sometimes. That one hurts more, mainly because then you know he’s hurting. You don’t want to hurt him. Somehow it feels like that’s what he expects of you, and you want to be better than that. However, you also want to be honest with him.

Sometimes, there’s just no way to win.  

“No,” you sigh, “You wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. I know that. But… I don’t know, maybe if you lost control or something, people do all kinds of things then.” 

Before you can raise your head to look at him, worried about his reaction, he does it for you. He holds your jaw between his fingers and there’s fire in his eyes you haven’t seen before. His hold is tight, bordering on being painful, but it barely doesn’t cross that line.

“I would never hurt you, understand?” he growls lowly, desperately.

The fire is just embers now, a crazed look in his eyes. Similar to the look he gives you anytime he pulls you to the side when you speak to a new acquaintance.

There’s fragility to it, you think. You might just be imagining that though. It’d make sense, what with him being so clingy and possessive, but that always felt like his way of asserting dominance. Could you have been wrong?

“Never. You’re mine and I promised I would take care of what’s mine,” his voice drops lower.

You smile a little. He did. It’s been the first thing he told you after you accepted his proposal to go on a date. 

And maybe he’s telling the truth. Well, he certainly is - the truth he believes in anyway. You’re hesitant to believe it too, though. He has tremendous self-control, that much you know, but he slips up sometimes. Every human does. Perhaps it won’t happen in the near future or maybe never, but the fact is that you cannot shake off the feeling that one day he might hurt you, even if he won’t mean to.

“Only yours,” you sigh and bump your nose against his. He frowns at you. He hates these cute displays of affection. You kiss it better, melting against his lips. The piercing in his tongue is a nice distraction from everything else, its round and smooth shape curious against your tongue. You love it and he knows it. He smirks when you won’t stop playing with the metal stub.

“I could make you more tired if it helps you fall asleep,” he whispers suggestively into your ear but his touch remains tender and loving. Despite that, you know he’s serious. He has a special talent to turn even the most innocent things heated in a second.

“I love you, Niragi,” you chuckle, “Just hold me, please.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, cuddling closer to him. He smells like home. You let your hands fall to his chest, feeling his heart beating under your palm.

“Never gonna let you go, baby,” he promises and pulls you closer, stroking up and down your spine with his fingertips. Another one of his little unspoken love yous. You smile and trail a little path of kisses on his shoulder.

No. Your Niragi couldn’t possibly ever become like the one in your dream… could he?

[spidrzfall]

Masks, messages, and secrets ⤑ Peter Parker.

finally, i have time to write again. Oh my goodness. enjoy this one, you guys! Sorry if it's not like totally action packed honestly this is a slow burn, and with a ton of small ideas, im working on, so bare with me, please. Im trying, i promise, but this is bound to have some just generic normal people living life scenes, so yeah! Sorry if this is disappointing, though. love you all xoxo - A.

☆° Peter Parker x Male Reader

☆° part two of Tough Night.

☆°• FLUFF - just some banter splice of life stuff babes.

°•▪︎ Fem readers DNI ♡♡

♧ warnings: Language, all characters are 21+ ♧

♡ READ PART ONE : Click me!

♡ Part Three : Coming Soon !

(M/N) didn’t have the gulls to tell Eugene he was secretly texting Peter on the side, after their small dispute the week after, it was almost impossible to even bring up the subject of Peter. It wasn’t hard to see that Eugene was little to not a fan of Peter at all, talking (M/N)’s ear off about how much of a push over he was and he wasn’t someone he wanted his brother to be associated with. Eugene since a young age cared deeply about his brother, from the second his parents brought him from the adoption center a part of him felt the spark of keeping him close, that brotherly instinct to care more about the other and teach him to fend off for himself. Even at a young age Eugene made sure (M/N) knew how to protect himself, not be a pushover to anybody and especially not take shit from anyone. 

Home life wasn’t easy on the two, Their father was a drunk who actively threatened their lives and well beings whilst their mother aside from being absent anytime she was in their lives she only instigated the yelling and mental drainess that came along with even living with their father and an absent mother. Eugene always made sure to protect his brother from then, basically taking him into his own care with making them food, getting supplies for their classes in school, driving (M/N) half across Queens to school because the two were enrolled in different schools, making sure his brother didn’t endure everything that happened at home by taking every yelling from their dad. Even with taking bullets for the other he basically trained (M/N) to defend himself, times where he influenced him to not be a pushover…

Everything he claimed Peter was, he never wanted his brother to be. 

Was it a surprise to anyone when (M/N) was secretly texting Peter behind Eugene’s back? No. A part of (M/N) was rebellious, whilst he did appreciate Eugene’s protectiveness he couldn’t help but admit sometimes it was overbearing, he knew Eugene had good intentions but there were times he felt he couldn’t even become friends with anyone because of his brother. That of course struck rebelion, the rebellion of (M/N) Thompson. Secretly being a lot more sympathetic, being friends with (what his brother called) losers, not mixing in with the crowd, letting his heart weave the way into life and not his judgment. He allowed himself to be free, something Eugene couldn’t be. Though (M/N) knew why, it was how the guy was born it wasn’t like he had a choice but be a close minded and rough guy. He let his own anger and judgment cloud his decisions and way of expression that was toxic and cruel, which (M/N) would be lying if he said his brother wasn’t changing those old ways now that he was an adult. But that was just still in the works.

Another ding came from (M/N)’s phone, as he slurred in his sleep before another one came through…and another..and another. As he groaned, putting a pillow atop his head trying to tune out the noise, knowing it was probably Eugene texting him something stupid or a string of memes, though it came to the slight realization that (M/N) had Eugene muted on his phone. As he slowly peaked his eye from underneath the pillow as he tiredly grabbed his phone, groaning at the light immiting as his eyes adjusted before checking his notifications Peter’s contact showing through as he looked at the time, what the fuck was this guy doing up at 5 A.M.

(M/N) chuckled as he rolled his eyes before grabbing his phone and rolling over to get comfortable as he opened up his phone and went over to messages, taking note of the 10+ notifications from Eugene’s silenced contact as he ignored them before going to Peters contact, a stiff laugh leaving his lips as he replied.

(M/N) set his phone back down before settling back into bed and drifted into his deep state of sleep. The room, dark some hints of the sunshine occasionally shining through but not enough to separate him from his sleep, his snores echoing in the four walls of his bedroom as the slow quiet hum of the apartment's A.C can be heard. The cold breeze substituting the once warm bedroom.

It wasn’t that late by the time (M/N) woke up, shuffling out of bed and grabbing his towel before tiredly making his way to the bathroom and beginning his day with a fresh cold shower, the cold water that hit his skin slowly dissolving the fatigue from his body and into a state of mind where he was finally ready to start the day. Stepping out the shower and into his towel as he dried himself and put on clothes that were much more comfortable yet presentable as he dried his damp hair, adding some coconut oil just to enhance his hair's health and get rid of any damage. Putting on his shoes before tackling his messenger bag that looked like it was massively decorated by a 5 year old who was handed unlimited access to pins and buttons, stepping out the door and to the more lively part of where he lived. Eventually stumbling across his favorite breakfast joint, SoBal Forest Hills, stepping inside as he ordered his usual which was an Acai Bowl, eating it peacefully before stepping out only for somebody to bump into him, making his breakfast splatter on his shirt, staining it a magenta color with sprinkles of the granola that laid atop of it. 

“Watch it! God dammit this was my favorite shirt..” (M/N) mumbled as he tried to take off the remains of the now ruined food. Turning to the guy he had bumped into only for a flash of red and blue to pass by him, Spider-Man. Of course, only the one person who bumped into him the whole day was a criminal being chased down by the well known vigilante, looks like he wasn’t getting an apology anytime soon. Deciding to live with the stain as the salvaged the little of acai left in the bowl as he ate it up before throwing it away and making his way towards the small supermarket nearby as he picked up some food he thought he needed to survive the next couple of weeks before finally going back home, stepping inside, placing the groceries onto the wooden dining table and quickly taking off the stained shirt, dragging himself into his bedroom before placing on a brand new shirt, shuffling out his jeans and into some basketball shorts before going to unpack his groceries. 

Nightfall not taking to long to arrive before he heard his phone buzz in the midst of him ordering some food ,feeling too lazy to cook,  as he looked at the notification, falling in from Peter who was asking him to call which (M/N) gladly accepted as he looked at his phone that had an incoming call as he accepted, a loud windy sound coming from the speaker as he chuckled. “Dude, where are you? A giant fan?” (M/N) was the first to speak as Peter let out a dry laugh “No, I’m just running. Mother hubbard, I’m exhausted.” Peter panted, his voice partially muffled which (M/N) assumed was the sound quality as the windy sound finally came to an end, most likely from him stopping to take a breath. “So Acai bowl huh?” Peter continued after finally catching his breath, a small pant still leaving his lips.

“How’d you know?” (M/N) leaned against this counter, as he crossed his arm. His phone on the counter and on speaker, Peter's voice echoing from the phone's speakers. “I was doing some outdoor photography for work and I saw you, I was gonna call out but you seemed frustrated so I let you be.” – “Could’ve bought me another Acai bowl, just saying could’ve put me in a much better mood.” (M/N) joked as it managed to get a laugh out of Peter which made the other smile. “SoBal Forest Hills, right? It’s near where we live so I might at some point, when I’m feeling nice.” Peter replied. “Oh when he feels nice, what an honor.” 

“yeah yeah, don’t get flustered on me now- shit I gotta go, sorry man. I’ll text you! Bye- Hey!” Peter had a small outburst before the call hung up as (M/N) stood in his kitchen, a confused look on his face before shaking his head and continuing to order his food. Awaiting for it, cuddling up into a blanket on his couch, Forest Gump playing on his television, his attention drawn away as a small knock came from his balcony. As he raised a brow, not sure if he heard it before it happened again as he stood up and cautiously peeked through the curtains. A glimpse of red and blue shining from outside as his eyes made contact with the familiar almost diamond oval shaped lenses as he took a double take. Opening the curtains as it revealed Spider-Man on the other side which caused (M/N) to rub his eyes before opening his balcony.

  “Spider-Man?” (M/N)’s voice was laced with uncertainty as he looked at the masked vigilante who waved at him, the other hand behind the hero's back. “You’re the guy the car thief bumped into this morning, right? Acai bowl guy.” Spider-Man finally spoke as he faced (M/N) settling on the edge of the balcony, the question earning him a nod from the man. Spider-Man’s hand came out from hiding to reveal an acai bowl, “Here. As an apology for this morning.” The hero handed him the small bowl as (M/N) hesitated but took it. “Thanks…How’d you know I live here?” There’s a question the hero didn’t expect as he let out a nervous laugh, it’s not like he could tell the other he was Peter so he came up with an obvious lie, “It’s a part of the powers.”

“The powers?” (M/N) crossed his arm over the other as he raised a brow, skeptical. “Yeah. the powers.” Spider-Man repeated, affirming him. “So where does my friend Shane live?” (M/N) asked as he eyed the hero who scrambled for a reply. “Okay it’s not the powers but I have my ways to know these things.” – “So a stalker.” – “No, gross. I’m not some weirdo.” Spider-Man scoffed as he waved his hand as a dismissal. “You’re a guy in red and blue spandex who can thwip out webs from the wrist and climb walls, I don’t think you get a pass from not being called a weirdo.” (M/N) replied. “I take it back, i want the bowl back.” Spider-Man joked as he extended out a hand to take the bowl back. “Hey! No. this was an apology gift” (M/N) replied, laughing. “Well i take back my apology.” Spider-Man protested, enjoying the familiar banter.

“You are so much more rude than what people let on.” (M/N) spoke before temporarily going inside to put away the acai bowl. Going back outside where he had left the vigilante. “Only when I need to.” The other replied. “Your voice sounds familiar…has anyone ever told you that?” (M/N) asked as he leaned against the railing of the balcony “Only a few dozen people, I have a handsome recognizable voice, probably a celebrity.” 

“Yeah? You’re probably some celebrity named Andrew Garfield or something weird like that…”

“Andrew?Jees no. ”

“Is your name Andrew”

“You’re off by a landslide.” 

The two laughed, before staring at each other. Quickly interrupted by a knock coming from inside as (M/N) stepped in for a while hearing it again, “that’s my dinner…say do you wanna split..it…” (M/N) paused as he turned around only to see nobody looking back at him, the hero long gone as he frowned before closing the balconies glass door and curtains and getting his food, thanking the delivery person, in the midst of it all finding himself wishing the hero stayed longer. A text interrupting his thoughts, It was Peter, telling him he was home from his run as (M/N) texted back a ‘glad your home safe’ only for a request of a call to come in which he accepted. Eugene on the other line, “You’ll never guess who came by tonight” (M/N) began interrupting Eugene’s hello. “Who?” Alex adjusted himself on the floor, chewing his food quickly and swallowed it before replying back to Eugene.

“Spider-Man!”

“Bullshit.” Eugene laughed. “He brought me an acai bowl.” (M/N) replied before adding another piece of food into his mouth a satisfied hum leaving his mouth as he savored it. “Why?” Eugene asked as he can be heard shuffling, blankets rustling given he was most likely on his bed. “Some guy ran into me this morning throwing my breakfast onto my shirt and he felt sorry so he brought me some.” Eugene only hummed in reply “How’d he know where you live?” 

“His powers.”

“His powers?”

“Yep. His powers.”

credit :: enchanthings - dividers !!

@darknessbringer the ideas !!

[theprettieststarfr]

GUYS PLEASE READ THIS AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

So I genuinely refuse to believe that considering the size of Hogwarts there was never a mention of a huge green field, only the lake. Like you know, fields like ones they have in the UK with cows and shit. BUT NO COWS THIS TIME. Imagine there is a huge field with wildflowers, like chamomile and poppies and other stuff and it's just so unbelievably green when May rolls around and throughout June as well, and some time after the field gets green like that it also blooms.

So, now that you've imagined it, imagine four 11 year old boys running around, playing tag in that field, screaming, laughing and falling down, out of breath, on the grass together to look up at the clouds. And when exams/tests are over, they sit on the field, which smells MAGNIFICENT by the way, just like proper summer, with all the flowers on it, and watch the summer sunset.

Second year, Peter gets bitten by a bee and becomes so goddamn scared of the field in the summer because of the bees that he absolutely refuses to play in there with his friends. And because MARAUDERS WERE EQUAL IN EACH OTHER'S EYES they spent so many break times researching the best insect repellent spells with the help of Professor Sprout, that they came up with a solution in less than a month and they were finally able to go to the field altogether.

Sometime then they were also joined by Lily, Mary, Marlene and such, who preferred picnics to playing tag, but weren't against watching the sunset as well.

Around the fifth year the Marauders would notice that Pandora, Regulus, Dorcas, Barty and Evan sat a little further away on the field. Pandora made flower crowns, Regulus read, Barty and Evan bickered, though it was never serious, and Dorcas composed or covered songs on her guitar. And since James is the little ray of sunshine that he is, he RUNS up to Pandora begging her to teach him how to make flower crowns, to which she happily agrees. Remus then finds the book Regulus is reading very interesting, Sirius is itching to put his opinion into rosekiller's argument because of course he knows better - it's clotted cream AND THEN jam on a scone, and Peter actually has a very clear, soothing soprano, which compliments Dorcas's alto and they start singing together. They sometimes hang out together after that.

Sixth year - James and Pandora are teaching everyone to make flower crowns and somehow, after the flowers have been picked, they grow right back, like nothing happened. Sirius gives his first flower crown to Minerva, most pretty (in his opinion) flower crown to Regulus, after a fight, after which Regulus, surprisingly, forgives him, which he does not want to admit, and all of his other ones to his Moony, because "he deserves all the flowers in this world". Remus grumbles a little about waste of flowers, but secretly preserves all of them in his books and keeps them. They no longer play tag in the field, for quite a few years now, but instead just frolic and dance whenever. Lily and Marlene sometimes act like those Zumba instructors and show moves to all the others, while Mary picks out the most danceable ABBA songs, getting a complaint from Sirius, who secretly doesn't really mind a bit of disco. They are sometimes joined by others, like Frank, Alice and Emmeline and they all have a huge dance off and OF COURSE it's either James or Lily who win most of the times and the classically trained Black brothers finally stop associating dancing with their parents and harsh etiquette training.

Last day of the last year, they all come out on the field one last time. To play tag. Like it all started. Running around it without one care in the world, then again, falling down on the field together. They then quietly talk about what they think the future will be like for them, agreeing on the thought that it will all work out eventually. Then they each make A LOT of flower crowns to exchange with every single person there. Barty then charms all the crowns to "speak". Basically, by touching a flower on the flower crown you can hear the voice of the person who made it and that date that they made it on, or whatever they want to say: "I'm Sirius Black, and I made this flower crown for Marlene on dd/mm/yyyy. DAZZLE ON MARLS" or smn like that. When asked how Barty came up with this, he answered, that he didn't wanna sort through his condoms every time he needed them in order to find out which one is strawberry flavoured, so he would just touch it and know which is which 😭😭😭

After that they actually hug. All of them. During the sunset. And it's the most wholesome thing.

And then they stay on the field until dawn getting drunk and doing something dumb and fun.

THAT'S IT YOU GUYS I REALLY LIKE THIS THOUGHT

Oh, also, if you wanna go more canonical (god no please no), then the year before Remus comes back to Hogwarts to teach, they remove the field to build more greenhouses, since more plants are coming in due to globalization and shit. And only Luna notices, crying silently at all the flowers that are gone.

And when Remus comes back, the first thing he notices is that the field is gone. Without a trace. Dead. Just like all of his friends. But not the memories he made. Probably would be better if they were dead too, because they hurt him even more, than he thought was possible.

[mins-fins]

two slow dancers.

&&. watching you paint has become a state of relaxation for renjun, you realize how much more vocal he is about his love for you than you thought.

pairing: huang renjun x m!reader

genre: fluffy like clouds, gay preple 😢

warnings: none!

word count: 0.8k

notes: renjun 🙁…….renjun 😖……..renjun 😢….. my wife i love him sm 💔 um anyway so last night i had a DREAM about renjun and i realized how good of a plot it ended up being despite how jumbled up it was 😞 i remember all of the good parts and that's what matters! um anyways take this writing from the corners of my mind

this was published so xiao dejun doesn't murder user @junjiie 😊

"shouldn't they be flying then?"

"well they don't actually have to flying, the wings are there for symbolism".

renjun eyes somehow un-blur themselves, and he stares for a long time trying to figure out what you mean by symbolism. now— renjun's not an idiot (he's actually very smart if he does say so himself!), it usually takes him a good few minutes to get what your talking about when your referring to symbolism, but in five minutes he ends up getting it.

he enjoys watching you paint, just watching the whole process intrigues him. before this, before you, renjun wasn't necessarily a fan of art museums, but ever since you've come into his life, with your stupid puns and your paintings full of symbolism, your shared apartment has pretty much become an art museum in itself.

the creativity you harbor shows no bounds, you paint practically everything of interest to you, thoughts you had at three in the morning with a long lecture ahead of you in a few hours, things you'd seen outside that were just too out of this world to not remember, or your reminiscing about moments in your life that will only happen once.

renjun thinks your mind must be the most interesting place in the world, your just thinking all the time, brainstorming. even when you aren't physically painting, your drawing up ideas in your head of what to put on your canvas.

and somehow, all of them just connect to you, all your paintings just contain something special that scream you, renjun can't fathom how you do it.

sometimes he describes it as a "superpower" you have, and you always manage to laugh at the wording of his sentence when he says so.

renjun just has this way of describing things, you have to give him credit on how incredible he is.

"the wings aren't meant to be taken literally.." you mutter, finishing up the final touches for your painting, somehow, you seem to still be full of energy, despite the fact that you've currently been up for a good 17 hours (renjun counted for you), and haven't touched your bed once today since you crawled out of it first thing in the morning. "they represent purity, innocence, it's truly associated with white birds so—"

you pause in the middle of your sentence, worried that your boring your boyfriend, but when you glance over at renjun, his full attention is on you, he's completely focused on what your talking about. "and? continue!"

his interest surprises you, most people you know roll their eyes when you begin explaining the meanings of your paintings. you don't mean to annoy anyone, so you've become accustomed to giving short and easy answers when people ask about the meanings behind your paintings, you often feel like your doing too much if you give such a long and thorough explanation.

renjun doesn't care though, everything you say is of importance to him. he isn't looking around the room, he isn't zoning out, he isn't focusing on a random part of the couch and zooming in on it, his attention is all on you.

he cares about what your saying.

you snap out of your mind, though glad about the whole revelation you just made, you forgot you were in the middle of a sentence. "that's why i chose them, this painting is meant to represent childhood innocence, and white birds, innocence".

you almost feel like you sound stupid in a way, but as renjun glances back at the painting, the one he'd sat and watched as you created with your own two hands for the past two and a half hours, he smiles, his eyes light up.

admiration is the obvious answer, you know the look because you can't count how many times you stared at renjun with the same exact stare. he laughs at a thought he has, and then turns to you, completely unaware of how you were looking at him so lovingly. "it's beautiful, i love it" he tells you, staring at you the same way he admired the painting beforehand.

you can't stop the way your face heats up, and your sure renjun can tell how red you are. if he can he doesn't say anything about it, just smiles at you, and you swear your face is practically burning at this point, it's a little funny to you that your getting so flustered over words your literal boyfriend is saying, you assumed after the two of you started dating you'd be less like this.

but no, renjun just has this power over you, you'll always be flustered by his compliments no matter how much you try to resist his crazy charm.

somehow, after minutes of getting flustered over a compliment and pretty chinese man's smile, you find your voice. "thank you".

renjun snickers, noticing the flush on your cheeks.

"your so cute".

"i don't think you should be talking".

renjun smiles.

he loves you, loves you so much.

[whatisthisno420]

Persuasion (Retail Au! Pantalone x Reader)

Your sales have been decreasing ever since you have transferred over to the jewelry department. Despite the below average performance, your boss decides to salvage this by pairing you up with the top seller in hopes of increased performance. What happens when that person just so happens to be the one coworker you can't stand?

Note: This is a Pantalone x Reader, but considering that this is an modern au that Pantalone is not a Harbinger, he will be referred to by the name Feiyu. Please let me know if I should change the name. The reader is currently gender neutral.

This is currently a one shot that I originally submitted to Fatui Con 2024, however I might make this a series as I see potential in this. Also let me know if you guys want any more Retail AU Harbinger fanfics (or any ideas). I got plenty of ideas in my head.

Sometimes you wish that you didn’t have to change jobs.

Though it’s not that you hated your job. Working as a Jewelry Sales Associate certainly has its perks after all. You get excellent commissions, practically free health & dental insurance, 33% employee discount, paid breaks, as well as being surrounded by decent people. Well, most of the people are decent, anyway.

It is rather difficult to enjoy the benefits when you only make enough to barely satisfy your sales goals. You used to be really good too, as you were considered the best performer in the shoe and purse departments, prior to getting promoted to the jewelry department. However, now that your boss has given you a final warning about your performance, you had resorted to looking for other jobs, in hopes that you were able to land another before your current employment ceases.

Except that you weren’t having any luck either finding jobs. Either the pay was less than you could afford, the commute would be too long, the job seemed shady or they couldn’t give the hours you needed. With the good jobs, you were either passed up or you wouldn’t be able to even get an interview.

So instead you were at your current job, about to head onto the floor after clocking in and putting your stuff away, when you get called to go into your bosses office. 

Though practically frozen in fear, you reluctantly agreed. As you made your way into his office, speculation of the possible reasons has clouded your mind, completed with the sound of your pounding heart. You had to stop yourself from spiraling into a full-blown panic attack.

You tapped your forearms in an effort to calm down. You are not going to get fired. You are fine. He might have some good news for once.

Luckily you have managed to calm yourself down enough to remain emotionless in front of your boss. When you reached his office, you knocked on the door before opening.

“I was told that you wanted to see me-“

You made the mistake of looking up. In front of you was your boss, and the coworker that you hated the most, Feiyu.

“Come and take a seat, (Y/N),” Your boss replies, his hand opening towards the empty chair. You made your way towards the chair, letting out a soft sigh as you sat down.

What in the hell was Feiyu doing here anyways? This can’t be good. Nothing good ever comes out when he’s around.

While you are able to get along with everyone at work, Feiyu is the one exception; you would rather be run over by  a bus than be anywhere near him. He talks like he is getting paid by words-spoken-per-minute, and also acts like he is some know-it-all. You also suspect that he is trying to steal your clients, as almost any new client you happen to make, often gets swept up in his charm, resulting in the sales going to him. Unfortunately you can’t tell your boss that, especially because in your bosses eyes, you would be ‘slandering his top performer’.

He also seemed to know how to always catch you off guard, which almost always ticks you off. It would make you feel vulnerable, embarrassed, and you hated that. 

What bothered you the most about him was that his sour personality was wasted on a rather pretty face. Perhaps that’s the only reason why people could stand him; he’s got a pretty face that draws them in before it’s too late.

Sometimes you wish that you make him shut up somehow and could get away with it in the workplace. Or better yet, meeting him outside of work and teaching him a lesson. But mostly you would rather avoid him at all costs, even switching with other coworkers if it meant that you didn’t have to work the same shift as him.

“Welcome in, Feiyu and (Y/N). You might be wondering why I brought you in here. I’ll be straight with you. As you know, (Y/N) hasn’t been on top of their game recently, and might be in need of a refresher. That’s were you, Feiyu, come in. Both of you would be working together until (Y/N)’s performances get better.” Your boss said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the desk.

You couldn’t believe what was said. You feel like this was one of your own nightmares, if only you could pinch yourself awake. Maybe, just maybe, being terminated was actually preferable.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be like this –“ You responded, trying to persuade him out of desperation. “Maybe I just need to move to a different department, or a different store even-“

“Given your options with your current situation, this is the best option, either that or letting you go entirely.”

You were speechless. Or more accurately, you couldn’t of anything to say in a professional manner, so you silent.

“Listen, I know you have potential. You have done extremely well when you worked in other departments. If that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t have accepted your transfer. Isn’t that right, Feiyu?”

Feiyu gave a nod.

“Maybe you just need to learn from the best of the department, learn the product a bit more, and then sure enough, you would be reaching astronomical profits.”

You glanced over in Feiyu’s general direction. He lets out a sly grin, which catches you off guard. Here we go again.

“Feiyu, you are expected to show (Y/N) the ropes, as if they are brand new. From now on, both of you will now be sharing the same shifts and lunches to make it easier to work together.”

This is great. Absolutely a fun time to be had.

“Oh and you both better be on your best behavior. I don’t want to hear any reports that you are misbehaving. Any questions?”

You stood silent. You had many questions alright, but didn’t know what to ask.

“I understand the assignment, boss.” Feiyu responded, nodding his head once.

“If you don’t have any questions, you may leave.”

With that, you and Feiyu left the office, going straight to work.

When you first worked with him and he would start rambling, you would often tune him out, zoning in on your own thoughts. Or alternatively, you would make your escape by finding different customers to help out, or find various projects to help out with. Either way, Feiyu would always find a way to bring your attention back to him.

Though as a few days passed, you noticed that he wasn’t really being condescending as you originally thought. The more you managed to listen to his ramblings, the more you realized that he was trying to be helpful. He also seemed rather happy when you graced him with your presence, contrary to the prior belief that he was trying to ruin your career.

You also couldn’t help but notice that for the last few days, he was dressed to the nines. Sure, he always dressed nice, but he dressed extra fancy, like he was attending an rich man’s party or something.

Not that you were going to complain about the tuxedo he was wearing, or the way he styled his hair. Or even the fact that he had cologne on that just so happens to be your favorite scent.

One day, you were trying to listen to another Feiyu’s rambles when you noticed how perfect his waist and chest look against the suit. The suit jacket seemed to fit perfectly. You accidentally zoned in as if you were studying it.

“I must of lost you at my chest.” Feiyu said, giving out a soft chuckle. 

You didn’t know how long you must of stared, which made you feel immensely embarrassed. And the fact that he caught you off guard, again. You wanted to change your name and move to a new country, never to be seen again.

“N-No I’m listening. Just continue talking.” You stammered out.

Feiyu raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I have no problem starting over if needed.”

“I’m good!” 

“Sure”

“I said I’m good.”

“Alright then, if that’s what you really want.”

Feiyu continued with his lecture, your mind too preoccupied to even pay attention to what he is saying. You were desperate to get out of his grasp, regain your composure. Luckily you were able to keep yourself busy with customers for the rest of the shift, and surprisingly he didn’t come around to find you.

That lasted until the very end of your shift, when you about to clock out and about to leave. 

“You may be able to lie to yourself, but not to me.”

Feiyu caught you off guard again, only this time he managed to actually surprise you. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to notice how easily distracted you are? Especially the amount of times you keep staring at me. You cannot resist me, can you?”

You felt the heat rushing into your cheeks. You wanted to fight him, but you were frozen in fear.

“Ah! Is that why you acted rather,,, cold towards me. You have a thing for me, don’t you? Is it the fact that this attraction is too much for you? Or is it the fact that you cannot handle rejection?”

“I do not like you that way!”

“Your reactions say otherwise.” Feiyu said, raising his eyebrows. “You know, a big key in securing sales is to able to read the body language and hidden meanings of your customers. After all, you have to anticipate which ones would be interested in your product, and which ones you can easily persuade to buy your products.”

There was a moment of silence in the air. You didn’t know what to say. Instead you stood there, flustered out of your mind.

“And you, my dear, are just another customer looking to buy a product. Though, product may not be the best word Perhaps service would be a way to describe.”

“W-well you are wrong.” You managed to say, crossing your arms. “I am not buying your services-“

“Based on the flush on your cheeks and the toes pointed towards me, I cannot buy into your statement. Though if I am truly wrong, perhaps you can persuade me over at the new restaurant across the street that just opened up.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Did he just-

“The best time to go is now before 7, unless you want to wait a while for a table… I guess you could persuade me as we are waiting, but I find it much easier to listen when we have out table, away from the chatter from other people, Don’t you think? Unless you prefer to take a walk around before our meal, get some shopping done… My treat of course.”

Feiyu took a good look at you, his eyes looking up and down. His hand moved towards his chin, resting two of his fingers below it. He tilted his chin slightly upwards.

“This is a good chance to practice your persuasion skills as well. That’s another key in making a good sales pitch you know. And if you take up on that offer, it would help you with your sales, and with your sales going through the roof, you wouldn’t have to deal with me for much longer, if that’s what you truly want-“

“Just a dinner is fine…” You mumbled 

“What was that? I didn’t quite get that-“

You repeated your statement, only that it was much louder and with a bit more frustration.

“Is tonight at 7 okay? Unless you have plans after work. Gives us enough time to look our best, prepare our arguments-”

“7 is fine.”

“Alright then, dear. See you there~” Feiyu then left the building, and you followed suit. You got in the car, replaying the day’s events as you drove home. 

What in the hell did I agree to?

You plan to meet him at 7, hoping that you could get it over with and done, or even better, that he decides to cancel and forgets to reschedule.

Little did you know, you were about to fall into a rabbit hole that you could never claw your way out of.

[crepe-of-wrath]

Sickeningly Sweet Shouta Scarf Saturday

Notes/Warnings: fem Reader; fluffy fluff; takes place in a canon divergent timeline where there was just some nice slice-of-life time after the USJ incident; Mic and Midnight make an appearance

Who had time to eat in the cafeteria?

Your lunch time was far better spent hiding the fact that you were once again staring at Shouta Aizawa, the most beautiful boy in the entire world. He had the most perfect--the most perfect--dark hair. And he was very quiet, which you liked. Loud noises and loud people had made you anxious ever since you could remember. The only thing about quiet little Shouta Aizawa that upset you was that he always looked so tired and sometimes a little sad. You wanted to make him happy.

Your friends thought you were ridiculous. Aizawa was a terrible match for you, they said. Sure, you were both smart and that was a good thing, but Aizawa didn't appear to have much style, whereas you already had big, serious Pros interested in your fashionable and functional accessories and support gear. You were one of the wealthiest and prettiest girls at UA, but you were also a friend to anyone and everyone. He, on the other hand, always went around with his nose in the air, always thinking he was too good to have to deign to associate with the rest of the world. But then he also somehow had those two extremely lame and weird friends, Yamada and Shirakumo, and could you even imagine having to hang out with them all the time (though your friends pointed out that at least Shirakumo was built and Yamada's eyes were pretty)?! Worst of all, Aizawa was so gloomy and didn't seem to have any ambition of his own while you were already always so hard on yourself and wanted to go places. He'd never be able to give you the support you needed! What if he ran your spirits down with one of those barbed little observations of his?

You knew your friends meant well, but they just didn't see. Aizawa was a sensitive, shy and quiet boy who thought carefully before he did and said things. Not everyone needed to be brash and cocksure. And he was very, very handsome, with the prettiest black hair.

~~

One afternoon in your second year you were happily in your own world, working in one of the Support Course studios, when Aizawa materialized in the doorway. When you locked eyes with him, the shock caused you to jam the needle you were sewing with right into one of your fingers, making you yelp, and forcing you to quickly clean up blood, lest you ruin all your work. This was not exactly the impression of competence you hoped to present.

But your metaphorical rain clouds dissipated when Aizawa said, "I'm sorry, you were clearly concentrating. I should have knocked."

(See! your inner voice shouted. He's quiet and polite!)

"It's fine," you said, as you finished putting a power pad on your finger. "Can I help you?"

"I'm having a problem getting the right--I don't even know the word--the right texture? weight? feel? for my binding cloth weapon. Everyone says you're the expert to talk to about this sort of thing."

You two spent the rest of the afternoon testing out different fibers and materials, sharing giggles over what failed, and high-fiving one another when you figured out the right amount of wire to give him just the drape and action he needed.

"Thank you, thank you very much," he said, giving you a little smile. It was the most magnificent and exquisite smile there had ever been, of course.

"I will have it ready for you as soon as I can, Aizawa!"

You pulled multiple all-nighters to make the weapon for Shouta. When it was done, and you were all alone in your studio, you kissed it for luck.

You started in on a second binding cloth not long after giving Aizawa that first one. It only made sense for him to have a second one ready for immediate use when he needed to turn in his weapon for replacement. You finished this one in the dead of night as well, and yes, you gave it a kiss. You would have died if Aizawa ever knew: he would think it was such a silly thing.

~~

After you graduated from UA, your parents and your friends desperately tried to fix you up, and sometimes you almost let your mind wander away from the lovely dark-haired boy who held pride of place in your heart.

And then you would receive a damaged old binding cloth in the mail. You would salvage what you could from the old one, prepare a new one, and give it your secret little kiss for luck before messaging Aizawa to let him know it was ready. He would reply with a time and place for a meeting.

At first, you had assumed these meetings would bring you joy, but they often did the opposite. Aizawa was always so sad. Grief and guilt had turned him into someone who was actually as brusque as your friends has always said he was, although he was still wickedly funny and as polite to you as he was to anyone. Still, you were worried.

So, you brought your concerns to Present Mic and Midnight, who were also clients of yours by now. You didn't feel it was your place to interfere with Aizawa's personal matters directly. You wished you knew him that well, but you didn't.

"I'm concerned about Aizawa Shouta," you said. "I've never--not once--met him to bring him his binding cloths in an office or anything that looks like it could be a home. And I don't think that he is dealing well with Shirakumo Oboro's death."

They considered what you had just said for a moment.

"Wait! Aizawa asks you to bring the scarves to him in person?" said Mic, who looked almost giddy. You felt this was a bit inappropriate, given the seriousness of what you had just told them.

"Of course he does," said Midnight. "Of course he does...I knew it." Apparently something about Aizawa being sad and needing some help was very funny, and you were happy to be on the outside looking in when it came to the joke.

After a few seconds, both of them seemed to realize how improper their reactions were, and they sobered up--at least as much as they could. "Leave it with us," said Kayama. "And thank you for looking out for our sweet little grumpy boy."

~~

You waited for Class 1-A to leave their homeroom--they were all discussing hero names as they streamed out, so you might as well have been invisible to them. After they were gone, you poked your head in, and Aizawa invited you into the room. You acknowledged Aizawa with a bow and produced the familiar box. You hadn't kissed it this time. Apparently the luck of your kisses had run out.

"I'm sorry that this one took so long to produce, but I couldn't salvage anything from its predecessor."

"No need to apologize. It would have been irrational for me to expect you to have a new one prepared right away."

The new scar under his eye looked very painful. (And hot! Don't forget hot! said the wildly inappropriate voice in your head.)

"I'm sorry you got hurt," you said.

"Thanks, but it's part of the job."

You were both holding an end of the scarf box. Had your hands ever been this close? Why had you never noticed how large and strong his hands looked? (Think of how it would feel if he held you! said the unhelpful, inappropriate voice.) The air around you suddenly felt very, very heavy and you knew you had to leave before you embarrassed yourself.

You released the box, backed up a couple of steps and were about to turn around when you met resistance. Two hands, which revealed themselves as belonging to Nemuri and Hizashi, pushed you back toward Aizawa and closed the door to Class 1-A behind them.

Shouta looked like he was considering jumping out of one of the windows.

"I've had to watch this pining silliness for years now! I can't take it anymore!" shouted Mic.

Much more softly--which underscored how deadly serious he was--he added, "One of you better say something now, or I will."

Kayama's voice floated into your ear: "That's a promise, sweet thing."

You and Shouta just stared at each other, like terrified deer transfixed by light.

"Would you like to go to a park?" you blurted out, your nerves causing you to project at unexpectedly high volume. "Maybe sit somewhere nice and quiet? I could do some knitting while you mark your papers?"

Aizawa tried to hide his blush behind the binding cloth he was already wearing. You felt your own face heat up and sweat start to form. If you weren't so frightened of the twin cupids Midnight and Mic, whose hands were still pressed firmly into your back, you would have turned and run.

Fortunately you didn't, because the most beautiful boy you had ever seen or would ever see ignited his Erasure, which his two friends correctly interpreted as a GET OUT gesture and then, when the door was closed and it was quiet and you two were alone, softly said, "Yes, we should go to a park."

Shouta walked up to you with a small, shy, sincere smile that peeked out over his scarf. You decided you'd have to figure how to slip a kiss to the scarf that was still in its box sometime later. He slowly took your fingers one by one until he was finally holding your hand. Then, he led you out of the room.

Maybe you were just being hopeful, but you swore his eyes looked less sad.