#since there's no way to do anything bigger than that here because it's the “english internet”.

[mel-loly]

-I didn't intend to go into this subject but... I feel like I need to.. At least, my State needs...

I know that many of you don't know and maybe don't care much about the situation because you guys are foreigners, but I wanted to ask you to pray or at least wish Rio Grande Do Sul good luck.. My State of Brazil is becoming almost all water, the floods don't stop entering houses, buildings, and causing deaths... Unfortunately, as I'm underage, I can't do a crowdfunding or anything like that to ask for help here, but I still want to ask for good luck, a prayer, so that everything will be fine soon.. This is the biggest flood in Rio Grande do Sul in history, so.. The situation is really complicated and needs support...

And I'm fine, my neighborhood hasn't been affected yet, but the rest of the regions are starting to turn into pure water, so... Please, I ask you for a prayer, good luck, because this already helps a bit, as this is what my Rio Grande do Sul needs at the moment, support and unity..

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Who is Vegetta?

Had to wait until my hands stopped shaking for this one, I love Vegetta so much. He was recently — miraculously — announced for the QSMP, so here's a rundown for English fans of both who he is and his lore. 

Vegetta777 is a Spanish Youtuber who is one of, if not THE biggest pillar of the Spanish community. He's been doing content for over 15 years now.

He's the creator of the Karmaland series, which he started when he was around Quackity's age.

I cannot emphasize enough: Vegetta doesn't do series or events or tournaments EVER, so him accepting the invitation is a huge deal. This was his exact commentary on it:

Vegetta: Quackity me invitó hace tiempo y le dije que no suelo entrar a series que yo puedo controlar, pero le he dado ese voto de confianza, además le pregunté como sería la serie porque no quería nada competitivo y quackity me dijo que no me preocupara por nada. [...] Si yo confíe en quackity y él confío en mi para Karmaland pues yo le doy ese voto de confianza para esta serie que está haciendo y además se le veía emocionado al chaval, si te soy sincero, Quackity el hijo de Rubius de cierto modo Translation: Quackity invited me a while ago and I told him that I don't usually enter series that I can't control, but I have given him that vote of confidence, I also asked him how the series would be because I didn't want anything competitive, and Quackity told me not to worry about anything (does this confirm QSMP is an RP server? 🤔) [...] If I trust Quackity and he trusts me for Karmaland, well, I give him that vote of confidence for this series he's doing. And also the boy looked excited, if I'm honest, Quackity's the son of Rubius in a certain way. (🥺💕)

Vegetta is very fond of Quackity after interacting with him in Karmaland 5, and he's spoken multiple times about how much Quackity's impressed him. He also said Quackity will be bigger than him someday :') He's very supportive of the new generation, and he spoke highly of Spreen today too.

Vegetta is one of the most talented Minecraft builders out there, and he's fast

While most of the other Karmaland boys were still living in basic houses, Vegetta built a CASTLE within a super short time

Vegetta loves cats. In Karmaland he had an entire cat rescue with 50+ cats (and yes, he’s named every single one of them). IRL, he shares lots of adorable cat photos and videos. 

His skin, like his name, is based on the Dragon Ball character Vegeta. Vegetta777 is basically the yassified version of Vegeta (just like Phil is the yassified version of Uruhara).

In Karmaland 5, Vegetta was a bit of a wizard, and he had a flock of crows / ravens (remind you of anyone?) 

Vegetta is sometimes called "the father of Minecraft", so many people (myself included) are ESPECIALLY excited to see him and Phil interact because they have a lot of similarities.

Vegetta is one of the heroes of Karmaland and the unofficial leader of their group. In terms of lore, he's essentially a demigod / minor god, though it's not as direct as Sapo  Peta's contact with them.

Vegetta is typically a staunch rule-follower, however, since he's not in control of the series, he said: "I feel like Rubius: 'Let's see what I can do to destroy everything, let's look for all the legal loopholes,' get ready Quackity, I'm the new Rubius!" (LMAO)

Vegetta’s the king of “stay in your own lane” he never gets into drama or gets involved in controversies, he just watches the dumpster fires from the sidelines like the rest of us

He almost never wears a shirt in the series (and honestly? Good for him)

His character is also, canonically, absolutely shredded

It's impossible to talk about Vegetta's lore without also talking about Rubius, so buckle in because this one's a doozy. I can't cover everything without this post becoming longer than it already is, but I'll do my best to summarize what I can:

Starting with Karmaland 4 and continuing into Karmaland 5 and beyond, Rubius and Vegetta have created the world's most torturous slow-burn telenovela-esque love story.

Rubegetta (Rubius x Vegetta) is the most popular Karmaland ship that, to some extent, has become an inside joke between the boys and the community. I'll elaborate on this more in Rubius' post.

To simplify years and years of lore and drama, Rubius and Vegetta love each other, but they are incapable of being in an actual relationship. I've talked about it in depth before, but Vegetta said it best in this metaphor-filled exchange with Sapo Peta and Willy: Sapo Peta: I wanted to ask you about your relationship with that Rubius guy. Vegetta: Oh, yes well Rubius likes to be with me a lot, but at the same time he likes to snack everywhere, and he never finishes eating the morcilla (blood sausage). Sapo Peta: So he rejects you? Vegetta: It's not that he rejects me, it's that it doesn't finish clearing up, you know? We could say that our relationship is like a hamburger. WiIIy: You prepare it and he doesn't eat it. Vegetta: Exactly, he doesn't finish you know?

Or, as another person phrased it:

The fault doesn't just lie with Rubius however; Vegetta himself can be pretty oblivious.

In Karmaland 4, despite the fact Rubius and Vegetta had a kid together and got married, it still didn't resolve anything. As soon as the vows were said and they were married, Rubius revealed it was all just a ploy to get Vegetta's diamonds and immediately asked for a divorce.

You can watch a translated animation of the entire wedding here.

In Karmaland 5, after deciding he'd had enough of Rubius' BS, Vegetta decided to marry someone else (Lolito), but Rubius burst in at the last moment to stop the wedding. We all thought he'd finally confess his love and stop being so emotionally constipated, but instead he proposed to Lolito solely so Vegetta would remain single. (They're a mess, what can I say)

To quote a meme shared by another Spanish fan, Vegetta's reaction to that was basically: “You don’t want me to be with you, and you don’t want me to be with someone else. How miserable do I have to be for you to be happy?”

I do want to emphasize that even though Rubius and Vegetta sometimes have relationship issues / communication issues, it doesn’t diminish their friendship in the slightest. Even after both wedding disasters, they were back to speaking to each other the next week, being flirty and laughing together. Yes, they have issues, but their love for each other remains – despite everything.

(I should also note here that, even while engaged to Lolito, Vegetta was still flirty with Rubius).

Vegetta is very close friends with Luzu, who supported him during the fallout from both failed marriages.

In Karmaland 4, Rubius and Vegetta had a son named Brayan Dobluque (a mix of both their names).

There's too much Rubegetta lore for me to cover everything, but Glay has a massive thread of translated Rubegetta clips I highly recommend watching if you'd like more context.

One clip I recommend is the Meteor date, which is one of the few instances where Rubius is honest vis-à-vis his emotions with Vegetta.

As a whole, their friendship / relationship is a romcom novela for sure, but sometimes they'll catch you off-guard with some romantic BS that'll make your heart ache. They really do love each other; they just don't know how to commit.

Vegetta is bi! (Both real life Vegetta and character Vegetta). Pretty much every single character in Karmaland is on the ‘ol rainbow spectrum somewhere.

Lore aside, I feel like Vegetta, and pretty much all the Karmaland boys in general, have the least machismo (toxic masculinity) I've ever seen. They're all genuinely sweet guys who aren't afraid to be flirty and play gay characters in their queer little telenovela Minecraft series. (With the exception of Willy, who we like to joke is the "token straight friend"). Vegetta's a cool guy, and he's a great addition to the QSMP. I'm excited for you all to meet him!

Other info posts:

Who is Sapo Peta? | Who is Luzu? | Who is Spreen?

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[eternalbuckley]

Confessions. — jj maybank

SUMMARY: He likes you. You like him. But guess what? You‘re both too afraid to tell each other that piece of information. Until one of you finally says the words you both are craving to hear from each other.

word count: 1,480

genre: fluff and slight angst | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings: teasing, mention of weed use, love confessions, some curse words, use of pet name (angel), english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if i forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: first time i wrote anything for our beloved jj! i’m on a slight writers block so it's shorter than my usual fics. BUT i’m still happy that i actually finished it :) happy reading everyone 🫶

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

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(not my gif, credits to the owner)

“You fucking asshole,” you joked and nudged his arm slightly. He chuckled while you gave him his joint back after you took a hit from it.

You were currently sitting with your friend, JJ, at the beach. It was a more hidden area, your secret spot. You haven’t seen him in a while. Well, actually you did. But it has been some weeks since you hung out alone with him. The past few weeks put some distance between you, mostly because you both were scared. Scared of falling even more for each other.

Yes, you fell for one of your closest best friends. You might be an idiot for that, you thought to yourself. Nearly every day once you realized the truth about your own feelings. Sadly, you were almost one hundred percent sure that he didn’t feel the same way about you. Despite Sarah and Kiara telling you the opposite all the time.

Sarah knew from John B. how JJ talked about you in front of him and Pope every time the three of them were alone together. Your friends knew that the way he looked at you and treated you gave everything about his real feelings away.

That boy was head over heels for you. But just like you, he was sure you wouldn’t like him back. Not someone like him. How could you after all? He was just a guy who either was high, running away from his problems, drinking, or spending time with his friends or specifically with you. The last two options are actually something good but JJ still didn’t see anything good in or about him. At least not good enough for you.

On the other hand, everybody saw the way you looked at him as well. Either when he was looking or not. The way you were the only person who was able to calm him down. The way you would be the only one who was laughing at some of his jokes. You were the only person he would let in if he had a breakdown. Everybody could tell how much you meant to each other.

But sure, you both didn’t like each other at all.

“You know how much I love smoking with you, angel, right?” He grinned at you and took another hit from his rolled joint. That fucking bastard.

His grin got even bigger after he noticed the slight blush creeping on your cheeks. “Such a pretty shade.” JJ slightly put one of his fingers on your cheek and pointed out the red cheeks.

You widened your eyes and immediately laid down on your back. There was some grass underneath you – since you were sitting at the edge of the beach. You were trying to hide your face from him by looking at the sky. Even while you were starting to see the stars getting brighter, he still saw the blush he was causing on your face. You always blushed whenever he used that particular pet name for you. And he knew damn well what it did to you until now he just never said something about it. It had to be the joint finally taking in its effect in both of your bodies. Your eyes were still focused on the sky. JJs eyes were focused on you, even after he laid down next to you as well. The joint between his fingers was long forgotten.

Minutes passed by in complete silence. You didn’t trust your own body, so you tried not to look at him. You were too scared of what could happen if you did.

“No matter how hard I try, you’re always on my mind,” he whispered and broke the silence between you. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to say his feelings out loud even if it meant taking a risk. He had to.

You slightly gulped. “I don’t know what you mean, JJ. Like… You are on my mind too. Just like… Like everyone else,” you tried to calm yourself down. You exactly knew what he was talking about.

You heard him slightly chuckling because of your answer. He finally laid down on his back and watched the night sky as well.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, angel. Every time I try to stop myself from it, it becomes more,” he spoke softly. His head was still turned towards the sky.

You could feel his body warmth, both your bodies were laying closely next to each other. Both your hands were almost touching but no one dared to overstep this part. Your heart started beating faster because what if he actually liked you after all? What if your friends were telling you the truth all the time?

“JJ…” You sighed with a quiet voice.

“I always push everyone away but with you? It’s different,” he continued, “You’re special to me. You always have been.”

Each of your pinky fingers got closer but didn’t touch. You decided to let him talk and didn’t want to interrupt him until he was finished.

“I can’t sit here any longer anymore and keep my feelings hidden. I can’t and don’t want to lose you. It might be too late already and I might be selfish right now but I have to tell you these things,” he paused for a moment. “But you won’t leave my mind. I’m always finding myself thinking and smiling about your smile, the way your eyes shine when you talk about your favorite things and interests. How you laugh at my stupid jokes even if we both know damn well that they’re bad sometimes. I love the way you take care and be there for your loved ones. Especially for me, angel. Do you want to know why I call you angel?”

You hummed and nodded your head. Your lips slightly formed a smile because of his words.

“Because you are the definition of being an angel.”

Your eyes slightly teared up at this confession. It took you a few seconds to process it but it ended up in finally holding his pinky finger. A small smile appeared on both of your lips.

You chuckled, “I hate you.” He knew it was one of your jokes.

“I’m pretty sure it’s quite the opposite.”

“How do you want to know that?”

He turned his body towards you, and you followed him. It’s the first time you noticed how close your bodies actually were.

“I‘m hoping it,” JJ chuckled nervously. He was scared he might fuck up everything he has with you. Unless he already did.

You looked him in the eyes. There was a light dim from the moon on his face, which let you see him a tiny bit better. Both of your hands were next to each others faces again. One more move and you would hold each other again but you both were too afraid to do it in that very moment. You started hearing your own heartbeat again the more you looked at him from this position. There was a comfortable atmosphere between you. And no one wanted to ruin it. JJ scooted closer to you, your noses were slightly brushing against each other. One more move and you could feel his lips on yours. You could feel his breath on your face and slowly closed your eyes with a short sigh.

"I.. I do," you suddenly whispered softly. You didn’t plan to but it just happened. Maybe it was the joint and how it calmed down your nerves.

JJ immediately sat up and looked down at you. He let out a surprised noise which made you laugh. You sat up as well and faced him. Taking in his hands, you repeated your words, to which he started to smile. He nervously brushed over your hands with his thumbs.

"I like you, JJ. You make me happy and you are my safe place. You probably always have been even when I didn’t realize my feelings for you. Even Sarah or Kiara couldn’t convince me of the truth," you chuckled at your own anxiety.

JJ eventually closed the gap between you and kissed you softly. There was no harsh pressure, just softness. He was careful. Testing how far he could go for this moment. Hearing the waves from the sea in the background made it even more perfect. Especially because after all it was your shared and secret spot. It already had a special meaning for both of you. Tonight, it made it even more special.

“Admit it, angel. I‘m just too irresistible,” he teased you after your kiss. That asshole.

You slightly slapped his arm. With a chuckle, you pulled him towards you. "Just shut up," and with that, you kissed him again.

It really took just one joint and smoking it alone with him to admit your feelings to each other. And it was the best decision ever.

[bpcr3yes]

hellorr, just lately i've been reading a lot of avatar modern headcanons, so i felt like writing some!

all the headcanons here are what i think the blue aliens would look like as humans (some make a lot of sense in my head)

first of all, english is not my native language so if there is any confusing sentence I'm sorry

AVATAR MODERN HEADCANONS

Neteyam is black, EVERYONE KNOWS THAT! he has the same skin color as his mother, and he has dreadlocks that hit a little above his shoulder, and he's a tall guy.

hes a mamas boy, he can cook, clean house, fix things (because after all, he is the oldest all the load of the younger ones is on him.)

AND he is a super gentlemanly guy, he always has a kind smile on his face and is liked by many people

HE IS ALSO A LADYS MAN, how many women do rain on this man, he sure is kind to all of them, I bet he flirts with some even, gives a little kiss there but never anything serious! he would be a great date.

Lo'ak is a light skin, everybody knows how similar he is to his father, I believe he also has dreadlocks but a little bigger than neteyam since he likes to tie them!

he always tries to show his worth to jake but it always comes off as an idiot, i think he would be the kind of guy who is smart but is too lazy for that(i have a kin in this man

he thinks people hate him because whenever he walks through the halls everyone starts staring and whispering at him

he LOVES teasing kiri, after all she is his favorite sister (he will NEVER admit it out loud) he also likes to make fun of tuk

he stares at tsireya like a hungry animal (don't get me wrong) he only realizes he is drooling when the people around him start laughing at him

he is a dramatic man

Kiri she is white and has red hair because grace was white and red hair too.

she believes in signs and always asks neytiri to buy rose quartz for her

a mother of plants

she who provides the trinkets for the family to use in their hair

She's always wearing eyeliner, and she still believes she can't live without it.

SHE ALSO HAS WOLFCUT

is always gossiping with tsireya, and when she with lo'ak lets out a "gross"

TUK is the copy of her mother, among all the genes she has, she pulled neytiri on everything!

she is a little black girl who has her hair in several different hairstyles every day!

she loves roblox but something tells me jake wouldn't let her spend too much time on the ipad because she's too young to be addicted to video games

she is also mamas girl

she loves all her brothers but she has a greater affection with neteyam, after all he is always taking care of her

she always tells jake when loak is bothering her

and she feels bad after jake pulls loak's ear.

she loves popoyo

Tsireya is a light ski nanned , she's a sweet person but don't take her seriously, she automatically becomes a version of her mother

she LOVES decorating gel nails, or just nails, it doesn't matter how long your nails are, she always finds a way to make her beautiful

is always playing with tuk

no one knows but she LOVES flirting with lo'ak because she knows he's a fool for her and is embarrassed by everything

is always hitting on aonung when he says something stupid

she is also a my melody collector!

Aonung is quite tanned but still a light skin, is always surfing or pestering someone

he is that kind of clueless friend who says something that is offensive in 8 different countries( and it also offends many minorities )

he can be a sweetheart whenever he wants

if you say anything offensive to tsireya or roxto he immediately was to hate you for the rest of his life

if you find him in a corner with his homies, you can be sure he was gossping about the sullys

ROXTO, he is the blackest of all (apart from tuk obvs)

he's a sweetheart, he's that kind of friend who knows the whole school

he is an average student but excels in the arts

he loves to make bracelets

he's cute, and I believe he catches the attention of several women too

he and lo'ak are besties ok

SPIDER let me tell you about our white boy

he is a darling 😭

neytiri hates him because he is american(?) (shes latina okay)

he is scared to death of neytiri because he knows she hates his father

he has a HUGE crush on kiri i swear he is a simp for her

he and loak are trouble together but who said they care about that?

he used to be very close with jake when he was younger but neytiri cut that line

I'm sure he also has several women after him.

this is the end! it's my first time writing on tumblr, if it's bad sorry

[awkward-imaginations]

| A Spike of Uncertainty |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 1961

former chapter | masterlist | next chapter

“No way!” Kenma snatched Kuroo's DS from you the second you took it out of your bag. You wanted to protest, but before you could say anything, the Animal Crossing tune started playing, “I've been dying to see Kuro’s Village since we left elementary school.”

“Kenma, give it back,” you reached out to grab the DS, but Kenma effortlessly dodged, his eyes already glued to the screen. The familiar chimes of Animal Crossing filled the space between you two, and Kenma’s expression softened into one of pure focus. “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he murmured, barely noticing your frustration. “Kuroo’s always bragged about his village, and I finally get to see it.” His fingers moved deftly across the buttons. But before Kenma could navigate from the menu into the game, you knew how he would react. He took a deep breath and sighed. You mentally prepared yourself for the look of disappointment on his face.

“You started a new game?” His voice was emotionless, even more so than usual. Normally, he would be glaring angrily at you right now, but he continued to stare blankly at the top screen.

“Kuroo said it was okay.” You tried to placate Kenma, but each of your excuses was just silently dismissed. Even your remarks about how unspectacular Kuroo's village was and how he hadn't missed anything couldn't appease him. Kenma's day, maybe this whole week, was ruined.

Before you could dwell on Kenma’s disappointment any longer, the classroom door slid open, and Kuroo's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “Hey, you two ready?” He strolled in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. Kenma barely looked up from the DS, still brooding over the lost village.

Kuroo noticed the device in Kenma’s hands and chuckled. “Let me guess, you’re mad because Y/N-Chan wiped out my Animal Crossing legacy?” Kenma gave a slight nod, but Kuroo just shrugged it off. “No worries, Kenma. You’ve got bigger things to focus on now, like making sure we crush it at practice today.”

Kuroo turned his attention to you, his grin softening. “Glad you’re coming to watch us. We could use a good luck charm on the sidelines after the training break.” There was a slight blush creeping up his neck, and you felt your own cheeks warm in response.

“I’m just here to make sure you don’t slack off, Kuroo,” you teased back, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“Is that so?” Kuroo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “I’ll have to make sure I show off a bit, after all. Don’t want to disappoint our special guest.”

Kenma finally tore his gaze from the DS, rolling his eyes at the exchange. “Can we just go already?”

“Right, right,” Kuroo said, straightening up but sending you one last playful wink. “Let’s get going.” Together, you left the classroom and made your way to practice.

After the two boys had changed, you entered the gym with them. Some of the boys on the court turned around curiously as you walked in. Kuroo raised a hand in greeting but kept his pace brisk, leading you straight to the others. “Hey guys,” he called out, a slight edge in his voice, “this is Y/N, Kenma's new classmate. She’s watching today.”

All eyes were on you now, and you could feel a slight wave of nervousness creeping in. Before you could fully process it, a small boy with a friendly smile broke away from the group and approached you. “Hey, nice to meet you! I’m Yaku,” he said, extending his hand warmly. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.”

You smiled shyly, about to reply, but Kuroo quickly stepped forward, a subtle frown crossing his face as he swiftly pulled you away from Yaku. “Come on, Y/N-Chan, I’ll introduce you to the rest,” he said, his tone a bit more forceful than before. As he led you around, you could sense a slight tension in his posture.

The rest of the introductions went smoothly, and everyone greeted you with smiles, clearly welcoming you warmly despite not actually being part of the team. However, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kuroo’s gaze flickered back to Yaku more than once, his irritation barely hidden.

“You can sit over there,” Kuroo pointed to the bleachers, his voice softening again as he directed you. “That’s the best place to see everything.” And with everything he mainly meant himself.

“And if you have any questions, just let me know!” Yaku called out with a grin as he started to warm up with the others.

Kuroo shot a quick glance in Yaku’s direction, a slight crease forming between his brows before he turned back to you. “Just relax and enjoy the show,” he said, though his smile seemed a bit tighter than before.

Despite the slight tension, you immediately felt more comfortable. The guys were all nice and open, and it was clear they were a strong team that supported each other.

“Y/N, want to practice a few passes with me?” Yaku ran up to you after a few minutes with a ball in his hand, “we're an odd number of players and I thought just watching would get boring.” On any other team you would agree with Yaku, but here you had a good opportunity to watch Kuroo for a longer time without it being weird. Nevertheless, you accepted the offer with a smile. It felt good to be actively involved in the group.

The passes that Yaku tossed to you were pretty easy but you didn’t complain, he probably didn't want to overwhelm you. Besides, you were still able to look over at Kuroo a few times, who was practicing with Kenma and seemed to be talking to him on the side. “You're pretty good,” Yaku praised you after a few rallies. “Thanks, my friends at my old school actually played volleyball too. They always persuaded me to train, a bit like Kuroo and you now, although they hit much rougher balls than you do.”

Every now and then, Kuroo would give you a look, as if to make sure you were having fun. And every time you returned his gaze, you felt a slight tingle. Contrary to your expectations Kuroo was actually looking at you and Yaku because he wanted to make sure you weren't having too much fun with the Libero. “Man, I wish I'd gotten the idea of practicing with Y/N-chan.” He clasped his hands behind his head and Kenma's pass flew right over him.

“I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you this but Kuro... Focus.” Annoyed, Kenma went to fetch the ball only to hit it over his inattentive captain's head again immediately afterwards.

“I don't get it, she's not even his type.” You were in fact not Yakus type but he saw the opportunity to unsettle Kuroo and took it.

“Then you don't have to worry about it.” Kenma sighed, retrieved the ball and started to serve, but stopped in motion. He mustered a glance at Kuroo, who was still staring over at you and Yaku, clearly distracted. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his captain so unsure during practice, especially over something—or rather, someone—like this. Usually, Kuroo was the one pulling the team together, his sharp eyes always on the game, on strategy. But now? Now, he was missing passes that even first-years wouldn’t let slip by.

Kenma sighed internally. “I told you you'd be annoying about it,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Kuroo to hear.

Kuroo snapped his attention back to Kenma, blinking as if coming out of a daze. “What do you mean? I’m not being annoying.”

“You're not? You’re letting balls fly right past you,” Kenma pointed out dryly. “And you keep staring at Y/N like she’s going to disappear if you don’t.”

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin forming on his face. “I’m just... making sure she’s comfortable, you know? It's her first time here with us. Gotta be a good captain.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, his usual indifferent tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, sure. That's what this is about.”

Kuroo dropped his hand, letting out a small huff. “I just didn’t expect to see her getting along with Yaku so easily, okay? It’s... different.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Kenma said, tossing the ball lightly at Kuroo. “She’s here, she’s having fun. And she’s not going anywhere, unless you keep acting weird and scare her off.”

Kuroo caught the ball, looking at it for a second before letting out a small laugh. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous.”

Kenma gave a rare, almost imperceptible smile. “Yeah, you are. Now, I never thought I would say this, but can we please get back to practice?”

Kuroo nodded, the tension easing out of his shoulders. He tossed the ball back to Kenma, a more focused look settling on his face. “Alright, let’s do this. No more distractions.”

Kenma gave him a final, pointed look before serving the ball. “Good. And maybe try not to look like a lost puppy for the rest of the day.”

Kuroo chuckled, positioning himself for the next pass. “I’ll try my best.”

With that, the easy rhythm of their movements returned as Kuroo finally managed to push his thoughts aside. He couldn’t help but glance over at you one last time, just to see you smile as you hit another one of Yaku’s passes. But this time, when he looked back at Kenma, he was met with a raised eyebrow that clearly said, Focus.

In the two weeks since that first practice, you’d found yourself at the gym nearly every day. What started as an excuse to hang out with Kenma and Kuroo had quickly become routine—afternoons spent watching practice, evenings split between studying with Kuroo or gaming with Kenma. It felt natural, like you’d always been part of their rhythm.

One evening, after the team had left, you and Kenma sat outside on a bench, waiting for Kuroo to finish his meeting with the coaches. Kenma, having switched from his PSP to an old DS—thanks to you snagging Kuroo’s—was quietly immersed in another game. The only sounds were the occasional soft beeps from the device or the quiet laugh you’d share when one of you messed up. It was a peaceful kind of waiting, the murmur of voices from the gym a distant background to your silence.

Kenma didn’t say much, as usual, but every now and then he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as if he knew something was on your mind.

When Kuroo finally emerged, he looked directly at Kenma, who hadn’t even noticed his best friend approaching. “We’re going on a trip next week. Coach Nekomata has organized a training match with a team from a high school in Miyagi. Karasuno, I think.”

You nearly choked on your iced tea when Kuroo mentioned the name, startled out of your thoughts. Fortunately, he didn’t notice, too focused on Kenma as he rambled about old rivals, crows, cats, and a ‘dumpster battle.’ You weren’t sure if you’d heard correctly or if the choking had thrown off your hearing, but it all sounded a bit dramatic.

Kenma’s gaze slowly shifted to you, his eyebrows narrowing slightly in thought. “Miyagi? Isn’t that your former prefecture, Y/N?”

As Kenma said your name, Kuroo finally turned to look at you too. Your throat still tickled from the sugary drink, so you just nodded, pressing your lips together.

“Is it?” Kuroo teased with a grin. “Wouldn’t it be funny if you went to Karasuno?”

You managed a nervous smile, “Yeah, wouldn’t that be funny?”

[sugarishapple]

Possession

(Day 6 of Feedist Kinktober)

A not so small story idea I went to write this past week, but I had to sit down and edit it (as English is not my first language: this was fully written as such), so this is a bit... outdated, lol. But, it's a fun little magical and witchy scenario that gives some background for both Marshall and Gail. How canon is it is up my guess right now since I'm still thinking about the possibilities of going through this (or a similar) route for them.

Word Count: almost 2800?

There used to be a rumor about Gail that was spread during high school.

People usually muttered that she was a witch.

Marshall didn't believe it back then. It was one of the most ridiculous statements he has ever heard. He would understand that Gail was a weird and "creepy" girl who believed in the supernatural, and people didn't like her that much (the girls usually, and derogatorily, called her “Ghoul”)... but he never bought that all of her "creepiness" was because she was a witch (or anything else related to it). Gail, however, instead of being insulted about the rumor, always decided to play it with humor. Mostly because, after all, it turns out there was a partial truth about it. "My family indeed has some witch lineage mixed in. My grandmother actually taught me some stuff here and there when I was younger.” This is what Gail told Marshall around the time they started dating,

Marshall was a little surprised about it, but as deeper their relationship went by, he started to see the signs. That would explain why his girlfriend was so persistent and stubborn about the supernatural, about magic, about ghosts. Even if he didn’t believe it at first, spending more time with her showed him how passionate she was about it.

And maybe because he was used to it, or maybe because it was more of a hobby to her as an adult, he didn’t think much about it. That is, of course, until...

It was one of those days where Marshall was too deep into his feedism fantasies. And the thought of Gail being a witch (to a degree?) was something that suddenly appeared on his mind. It wasn't about magical potions or spells... he was thinking much more bigger than that. He was thinking about the possibility of getting possessed… as a way to get more into his own fantasies of getting fatter. "Getting possessed, huh?" Gail questioned him, with curiosity, while eating dinner. "It was just a thought," he said, laughing it off, as a joke, "it's impossible." "Did you think it is impossible, Marshall?" She interrupted. "I can attempt summoning something perfect for you, you know...?" "You... you are pulling my leg for all those times I teased you in the past, aren't you?" "Hah. I’m not joking about this, honey. It's a wonderful idea, actually... as expected of my Marshmallow~" She held his hand, caressing it and smiling. "I have been thinking a lot about a way to expand that waist of yours, and this is perfect.”

"Is it?" Still doubtful, he continued eating. "Hmmm." Gail started thinking. "I may need to take a look to my grandma’s old books. I have a slight idea of which creature we can use... who, even..." Marshall was astounded at how serious she looked at that moment, especially for something was a whim. All he remembered from the past at that moment was about a stupid high school rumor that turned out to be true because here she was, passionate about the potential outcomes of using her magic skills. For him. For her.

---

"Ah. Yes. This is the one," Gail held one of her magic books, right on the page she was looking for, "a demon that rejects inhibitions of the gluttony kind." She snickered. "Yeah… and it looks like I have every ingredient to invoke them, even."

Marshall gulped as soon as she notified him about it. He didn't expect it to be pretty soon. But, deep inside him, he was excited for it. The sooner, the better. 

"You just have to give me a heads up to do it," his partner told him, "of course, I need to prepare a big feast for that, as well. Your favorites, everything you want..."

"How about... tomorrow?"

"You want this to happen... tomorrow?" This definitely caught her by surprise. “Are you sure?”

"Well, I feel like you are excited as I am, Gail." He smiled her back.. "Why waste time, right?"

Gail bit her lips. She knew Marshall was someone who preferred to do things in the more efficient way possible, without beating around the bush. She, however, still had some doubts, because she might be biting more than she could chew. A demon like that wasn't that easy to invoke although she had everything she needed at hand. But given that Marshall was on the same tracks as her, that was pushing her forward to do as much as he wanted.

"Okay, let's do it tomorrow. It is going to be a long day until then... I cannot wait to put my hands on that soft belly as it expands itself so quickly while you are under the influence of a demon..." "That's very specific, you know?” He chuckled. “But… I would be lying if I didn’t want to know how all of that may feel at the end. How little of me would get conscious while doing all of that under a demon possessing me? That kind of stuff.”

“Wow, who would believe you were this… kinky, huh?” Gail caressed his slightly round face before putting a kiss onto his lips.

“Heh. I wonder…”

---

It was a long day, indeed. Full of waiting and full of expectations. The demon summoning method had two parts, one of it was preparing a beverage as an offering, a “portal” of sorts which establishes the connection between the demon and their host, and the other step was a spell.

A foot note specified, however, that “there might be consequences. One of the hardest demons to persuade and please. Proceed with caution and risks.”

“Consequences?” Gail read the foot note again, and made her get cold feet. Of course, she knew, there would be risks about summoning demons like this one. Sure… but… shouldn’t they be able to risk it? She had to be prepared for whatever would be inf front of them, she had to make a good impression on the demon.

Reuniting the beverage’s ingredients and preparing it was a task that was quite easy. It was similar to brewing tea. The result had a bitter and spicy scent to it, quite flowery as well.

The table was set in a way it was like a great banquet, a big offering, full of greasy and heavy food dishes. It only lacked the two main guests for this feast.

Marshall was as doubtful as his beloved and beautiful partner. He was so worked up for the excitement it meant to fulfill some of his fantasies, but he wasn’t prepared for the potential long-term effects of a possession. Or even if he would come out of it without scars. What if they couldn’t get the demon satisfied? His mind was full of many questions.

On his side, Marshall researched a little about the aforementioned demon. And although the specifics weren’t too clear, he knew the demon wouldn’t be easy to get along with. What did mean “satisfaction” to a demon of gluttony?

“Marshall. I want you to trust in myself and this whole process,” Gail assured him as he was sitting down in the table, “if anything else happens. I will be cautious and try to cut the connection, immediately.”

He nodded and took a look at the decadent foods in front of him. His favorite dishes, fast food, and sweets. It was the first time that Gail prepared a feast like that for him. He always fantasied it, but Gail was never that adventurous.

“Overwhelmed?” She asked him, relaxing his shoulder muscles, to cut the tension.

“Slightly.” He adjusted his glasses. “It’s too much.”

“Too much, but still perfect for you.” She bent her head down to kiss his head, before reaching the tall glass of the tea-like beverage. “You have to drink this fully. Once it sets down, I will recite the spell.”

Marshall followed her instructions. He grabbed the glass, and gulped the whole beverage down. He tasted the bitterness coming from the spices. It wasn’t that any different from the teas Gail has brewed before. But there was a certain heaviness coming from it. He couldn’t explain how maybe it was because he was nervous, or perhaps he wasn’t prepared for what was coming to him. Licking the few drops that were on his lips, he posed his hands over his tum.

“How was it?” Gail asked.

“Bitter. Fulfilling. Was it necessary to be served on a glass?”

“The recipe said it had to be done that way. Now, relax, honey,” she squeezed his shoulder, “you and I know this isn’t the end yet…”

She bent down, and started whispering into his ear an old enchantment, full of words he couldn’t figure out. There were times where she swore she could curse him… but now? That’s how it felt? He was slowly feeling enticed by them. He couldn’t move and, little by little, it felt like he was losing conscience…

“Marshall…?” Gail asked as she was taking note of the state of her partner.

He grunted. He opened his eyes and started to evaluate everything… from the situation of his surroundings to the feast he had in front of him. He started to salivate. He smugly smiled and chuckled.

“Well, well, well. Is this all for me…?” He pronounced. “Splendid. I was getting too hungry…”

Gail felt it. It worked. Marshall wasn’t conscious in his own body, anymore. It was that demon.

Without any care, he reached the plates. The demon inside Marshall felt famished. He was so hungry, he wanted to stuff his face with greedy handfuls of all of the decadent food in front of him. In a similar fashion, the plates that were finished were easily discarded, while Gail was left to witness the scene.

On one hand, this what Marshall always fantasied to do, and it was something they agreed to do, sure. This was a face of him that Gail wanted to presence, and she wished that her Marshmallow would show her more frequent, the one where he was dominated by a ravenous hunger while wolfing down everything without restraints. Slightly slobby, even. But Marshall was still quite shy with all of this, especially in front of her. This was an eager Marshall that she usually wished for, including some of his gestures, from everything as grabbing his belly as a way to measure how full he was, to slapping it as a belch came out from his chest, all while his shirt was riding up as his stomach was expanding. All with a greedy smile where he communicated he wanted more.

Understandably, it was an astounding scene that made her aroused as more and more as it progressed… but it made her understand one thing: as much as it looked like Marshall was being a gluttonous pig… it wasn’t him. It wasn’t her beloved Marshall.

“You are the witch that summoned me, aren’t you?” The demon talked to her, using the voice of her Marshmallow. His breath was heavy and burpy. “I underestimated the ones of your kind. You have lots of guts to bring me here. You may know that I’m not easy to please… but there’s something about this human host that makes me… needed. Is that the word? Lucky him. I share his desires, and, perhaps, yours too.”

He let out a wet belch, which made Gail’s face to turn red. He eventually let his hand reach to hers.

“I can sense your desires, too. You sure are a watcher. An admirer. An enabler… you surely want him to get big, as much as he does.”

Gail held his hand, and followed his guidance, putting it against his belly. It was gurgling and digesting.

“Well... take a look at that. You seem to love the idea of his waist getting wider, don’t you?” He made her to slid down the elastic waistband of his pants, revealing his big and round stuffed belly, covered by the red marks that were left by his clothes. “Amazing what he can do with my help, right?”

She nodded, agreeing.

“Just imagine it. Always a little hungry. Always wanting to satisfy it… but never that full. This is just part of the result.”

Enticed by the way the demon talked to her, she started to give his tum some rubs, enjoying the pleasant feeling of his soft yet hard belly.

He started to moan as he felt her hands’ movements all over his torso.

“Ga… Gail…” He grunted, this being more Marshall than the demon himself. It was like he would easily recognize the hands of his beloved partner, even in such state.

She quickly took notice about that.

“Marsh… oh, Marshall. You are doing great, honey…” She told him. “You are feeling so… so good…”

He nodded.

“You know… your hands have always been… amazing… I love them… I love you so much...” He responded, before getting interrupted by the demon, “...Huh. I see why this host loves it so much… it makes me want to keep going, so your hands wouldn’t stop doing this...”

“...I want him back.” Gail pronounced, decisive, as soon as she stopped rubbing him. “Once you finish this feast… I want my Marshall back.”

There was a look in Gail’s eyes that the demon was trying to decipher. It was an unknown feeling for him. But he was, enchanted to say the least. Was it loyalty? Was it what they called “love”?

He started cackling. “Hahah, oh, witch… you and your beloved amuse me a lot. You talk as if I’m going to stay forever in this host’s body.” He inspected his hands, and looked back at her. “But, I have changed my mind. I will make a little deal with you. Let’s say I will be your ‘little enabler’, wouldn’t it be better for you and me?”

“An… enabler?”

“Let’s put it this way.” The demon gestured as he was feeling Marshall’s body in a more intimate manner. “I will let him succumb to his hunger and gluttony desires. I will make his metabolism much more slower, as well. Making him fatter faster would be a good thing for you, right~? All of this feast is going to make wonders on him, that’s for sure”.

Gail was perplexed. “There was a foot note in my grandmother’s book, are these the consequences it was referring to?”

“The consequences…? Oh, dear. Hahah!” The demon laughed. “Oh, no, no. Of course there are consequences... But not for you two. This is a reward, a present from me. I will leave part of my essence in him”.

“Hmmm.” She went thinking. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“You are more of a skeptic than him, looks like. But, I will tell you something useful for the future. Those magic books? They are not a joke.” He replied. “I can feel the power of your ancestors through you. And, besides… why would I trick you? This feast? It was wonderful.” He grabbed a handful of pecan pie, before stuffing it into his (Marshall’s) mouth. “No one has gone this far in less of a whole day. I like you both, witch.” He talked with his mouth full, before gulping it all down.

---

Marshall grunted. He was not even sure how long he has been sleeping. All he knew was that he was feeling slightly full… and that there was a slight cold breeze over his exposed tum.

“How long has it… been?” He reached his hand up to his gut, noticing it a little more flabbier than before. “Huh, that’s definitely new.”

“Hey, Marshmallow. Good morning~” Gail gave him a kiss. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock. I don’t remember much after the demon possessed my body. But, I suppose it worked.” He jiggled his softer belly.

“Of course it worked. He even left us a little gift”.

“You look pretty nonchalant for whatever it has to be as a gift. Wasn’t the demon supposed to be hard to please?”

“Apparently,” she responded, “we were all good. He seemed to like us both. And he left us something to enjoy later. This,” she pointed his softer belly, “is just part of it.”

“Uhuh,” he nodded as he passed his hand all over his gelatinous belly, inspecting it. “Well, I suppose this fat definitely wouldn’t be made in less of a day under very normal consequences.”

“How do you feel about it?” She asked.

“Well, it doesn’t feel too bad…” Marshall gave it some rubs, before looking at her again. “But I will appreciate it even more if you give me a hand, you know…?” He gave her some bedroom eyes, a message she understood quite well.

Gail smiled. “Of course. I want to help you out with that…”

[shini--chan]

I really like your ~Cantin~ story with the dark Canada. It's my favorite! Can you write please what will be next when the reader wrestle the phone from him and trying to call Alfred for help. Maybe with a little bit yandere Alfred too. Thanx and sry for bad English!

Of course, let’s see what will come of this. And darling, your English is better than you probably think ;D

Yandere Canada - Sanctimonious

Your body simply moved of its own accord. Maybe it was the hope that hadn’t died already, maybe it was pettiness and you just wanted to see Willams suffer; either way, you found yourself lunging at the phone in his hand. Although surprised, your false lover managed to side step your attack and the unstopped momentum sent you sprawling in the snow to the side of the snow. 

Spluttering, you spat out snow that you had nearly swallowed and shook your head to cast off the snow that had gotten caught in your hair and the outside of the scarf you were wearing. Sadly, some snow had slipped beneath your clothing - the uncomfortable cold was spreading across your neck and chest and your calves. However, you had bigger fish to fry - there was a phone you had to get your hands on. 

Quickly you scrambled to your feet and lunged again, this time managed to get your hands on his arm and then his wrist. Fruitlessly, he tried to keep the phone to his ear but finally saw that he wouldn't be able to simply ignore you for much longer. 

“A moment Al, gotta take care of something”, he quickly shouted in the speaker and then grasped your wrist. The phone was held high in the air and with him being taller than you there wasn’t really a chance of you grabbing it from him. 

So you did the next best thing that came to mind - kicked him in the kneecap. You didn’t care which knee you had damaged, or how much damage you had inflicted. The only thing that mattered was that the hand went down and you could pry the phone from his grip. Turning around, you set off into a light jog and put the phone to your ear. 

“Hello, hello! I need help, sir”, you hissed into the phone. 

“Jeez, who are you kid, and why do you have Mattie’s phone?”, came an enthusiastic voice from the other end. American, judging by the accent. Matthew had told you he had a brother but this couldn’t possibly be him. What sense did it make to have a blood brother that was of another nationality? Difficult parents could be a reason but it would be unlikely. 

“I was kidnapped by Matthew Williams and am being held against my will. He claims to love me, but it can’t be love since… since I’m just his captive and plaything that he uses as he pleases. Please, please sir, you have to help you”, you pleaded into the phone, tears welling up in your eyes. 

There were a few moments of silence on the other end and hopefully it was because he was thinking of how he could rescue you. To your horror and confusion, however, the pause was ended by laughter. 

“You must be the one that stole Mattie’s heart. Christ, I can see why he loves you - so polite and still feisty. I’m even tempted to steal you to have you all for myself, but don’t tell him that”, he remarked once he managed to calm down a bit. 

“What the blazes do you mean? You have to…”

“Not so quick kiddo. I don’t have to do anything and since you’ve stopped being so nice, I sure am hell not gonna do that now. Not that I intended to do anything really before, but that is besides the point

“The point here is, that while Mattie and I have some fundamental differences, at the root we are cut from the same cloth. So sweetie, I can’t say that I would have done anything different than my bro. We talk, y’know, so I’m completely in the know of what is going on between you two love birds. Hell, he even asks me for advice on how to handle you. 

“So let me give you a tip, for free ‘cuz it’s you: Just give in and it will be all smooth sailing. Don’t make it more difficult than it already is.”

[smoooothoperator]

Beautiful Stranger

08: Shape Of Lies

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 2.1k

warnings: THE ANGST, social media au, third person pov, flashbacks are on italics

Masterlist

Official playlist

previous part

a/n: here is the angst!!! The part everyone wanted. What do you think will happen after this?

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

The domino effect is a chain reaction that occurs when one event sets off a series of similar, related, or connected events.

Is often used in reference to a catastrophic event or chain of interconnected events such as a natural disaster, series of accidents, or financial collapse. 

He started it by saying a wrong name. Then a wrong job. And because of the first lie, the snowball rolling down the hill started to grow bigger and bigger, making him lose control of it.

And now he has to face the consequences.

"Lily…" 

"Tell me what, Logan?" she frowned, feeling how her heart started to shatter. "Or whoever you are"

He swallowed thickly, feeling how his heartbeat was echoing on his ears. He didn't hear Carlos ending the call after a sigh, he couldn't even hear what he said. 

This it. This is the moment he feared the most. It came sooner than he thought. 

That's what happens when you are a coward.

"I- Lily…" he mumbled, feeling how his mouth was dry. Even if he swallowed he couldn't make anything to get rid of the dryness. "I can explain-"

"How dare you?" she asked, hurt. 

"I can explain!" he exclaimed, taking a step closer to her.

"Don't come closer!" she screamed, making Lando flinch. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I… my name is Lando" he said with a little voice. 

"Everything was a lie, right?" she asked, hurt.

It was suffocating her. Everything was perfect, she started to think about the future. A future with him.

In her mind she created the perfect story for them. Once he left for work, the two of them would be texting and calling, not forgetting to tell the other how their day went. She wanted to visit him by surprise, thinking that he would be happy to see her and introduce her to his family and friends. She wanted to go back to England just to be closer to him. She wanted to see him more often, having dates and sleeping in each other's houses. She wanted to be with him for such a long time that one of them had to suggest to move in together.

She wanted so many things. 

And those plans just exploded in front of her face like a window breaks during an expansive wave.

"Lily, please…" Lando begged, trying to grab her hands.

He needed to touch the person that calms him, the person that for once helps his mind to work at a normal speed.

But how can he do that? The person that calms him is at the same time the person he hurt. The person he has been lying to since they met. 

He's selfish. He deserves everything bad that will happen after this. And he knows it.

But it hurts so bad, and it scares him not knowing what will happen.

He deserves her hate.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, closing her eyes and letting her body take control.

He didn't see that coming. He didn't see her hand moving towards his cheek. When he noticed it he was already looking to his side and with his skin burning after the slap.

"How dare you?!" she screamed, feeling her heart pounding against her chest. "I gave you everything! Everything! And you just lied to me all this fucking time!"

He never heard her curse in english. It was something he found cute about her. Maybe she cursed in Greek, but since he didn't understand a word of it, he never knew about it.

But now, hearing her curse, he felt worse. She is really angry.

"I didn't want you to know who I was…" he mumbled.

Wrong answer.

"And then you decided to tell me lies all the time?!" she exclaimed.

She couldn't believe it. She fell for a lie. She fell for a man that is not who he says he is. She let him come to her house, to her bed. She let him touch her. 

She let him use her.

"I told you who I was! I told you about my past, about my family and how they treated me!" she screamed. "I trusted you! And what did you do all this time? Not trust me and lie about yourself all the fucking time! How dare you do this to me?! How dare you play with me?!"

"I wanted to tell you" he said. 

There's no use to scream, to argue. He's not the one hurt here. He doesn't have any right to defend himself.

"When? Once you are gone?" she scoffed, letting her heart break more. "How mature" she said sarcastically.

How mature. She's right. Everyone is right. He's not mature. He's 23 years old and still acts like a kid. Maybe everyone was right, maybe Carlos was right. He needed to mature and act like the adult he is. 

"Lily, please… let me explain" he mumbled, taking another step closer to her.

"I don't want to hear it" she groaned. "Get out of my house"

"Don't do this, love…"

"Stop!" she exclaimed, grabbing his backpack and throwing it to him. "Don't you dare to call me like that ever again!"

"I-"

"Get out of my house!" she screamed, pushing him out of her bedroom, throwing his phone to him.

"Lily!"

"Leave!" She screamed, grabbing the first thing she found and threatening to throw it to him.

With his shoulders down and tears rolling down his cheeks, he nodded defeated. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and walked out of her apartment. He knows he has things in her apartment, he knows he left clothes because she liked to sleep on his shirts.

She has every right to be mad at him, to not look at him and to push him out of her house. He did everything to deserve to be treated that way.

When she heard him open the front door and close it behind him she ran towards it. She ran to close the door, locking it after leaning on it and falling to the floor slowly.

He lied to her. He lied about his name, about who he is. Maybe he lied and he doesn't love her. Everything he did was use her and laugh at her.

The moment Lando heard how she locked the door he knew everything ended. That he doesn't have a chance to talk and explain.

He deserves it.

He knows the meaning of her locking the door. He broke her trust. He broke her heart. He broke her.

Lando heard her cry when he went to his apartment. He heard things falling to the floor and breaking. He heard her anger and he couldn't be there to stop it.

He took a deep breath and looked at his phone. The screen is broken. It probably broke the moment it fell from his hand when she walked inside the room after hearing his call with Carlos.

This can't be happening. There's no way he, amongst everyone, did that.

She was in shock, standing in the middle of her messy living room. Cushions on the floor, the things he left on the coffee table on the floor. Every thing he touched was on the floor and she wanted to burn it.

Him, the person she loves and trusts, betrayed her. 

Maybe it was karma? Maybe she deserved it. She deserves it for being a bad daughter and a bad fiance. 

The dress was too tight. It wasn't letting her breathe.

"Mother I can't breathe" she mumbled, waving her hand in front of her face to create some type of air. "The dress is too tight"

"Tight? I barely started unbuttoning it" she said, making sure the material of the dress was fitting her. "You look absolutely beautiful"

"Mom, stop! I can't breathe!" she exclaimed, taking a step away from her mother.

"Eh, watch your tone!" the woman frowned, looking at her. "Adrian is waiting for you"

"I didn't choose that! I didn't choose to be married to a stranger! I didn't choose this stupid life!"

The older woman frowned, looking at the behavior of her daughter. There is no way she can let her act this way. There's no way she will let her daughter keep doing this.

"Stop talking, Liliane!" she screamed, slapping her cheek and not caring about the mark her hand will leave later.

The young woman gasped, looking at her side and feeling the tears threatening to fall. 

"Hear me, you little spoiled brat" her mother said, pointing at her with anger. "This will be the last time I tell you this. Your life would have been way better if you did everything we wanted you to do. You are the daughter of one of the most important men of England. You only had one thing to do and it was studying to work for your father and then having his place in the firm!"

"I never asked for this life!" she screamed. "I never asked to be your daughter, to have all the money we have, to be a Barton! I never wanted to get married to Adrian!"

"Shut up!" she screamed. "Get ready, the guests are waiting"

With that, her mother walked out of the room leaving her alone in front of the mirror.

That woman is not her. The reflection is not her. That woman, dressed in a white dress with a veil and expensive jewels, is not her. 

Liliane Barton is just a wax figure her parents molded the way they wanted, and with every mistake she made they added the double pressure to mold it better.

But Lily, the girl she always wanted to be, never wore jewels. She never wanted to look like her mother, even if she was the exact copy of her. She never wanted to have the same life she had.

"Fuck it" she groaned, grabbing the diamonds necklace and pulling it out of her neck, breaking it. "Fuck everything! Fuck everyone!"

She took off her dress, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room and kicked it away from her. She grabbed the veil and made a ball with it, throwing it to the bed.

She feels free, not wearing that tight dress anymore.

But she needs more freedom.

She looked around, finding the clothes she came into the hotel, clothes that have more of her essence than the ones she was going to wear later. 

Quickly, she got changed into that floral dress and into her flat sandals, throwing the high heels to the mirror, breaking it, and grabbed her bag.

If someone finds her in the corridor she's wasted. If someone finds her running away she's wasted. 

"Good" she nodded when she opened the room door, not finding anyone around.

She ran for her freedom. She ran with everything that was hers inside that bag. 

"Get out!" she said to the man that was inside the car that was going to take her to the chapel. 

"But… miss Barton" he frowned.

"I said get out!" 

The man sighed, leaving the keys for the car inside and getting out of the vehicle. He could see her shaking, the mark of a hand on her cheek and the make up messy. 

Lily drove to her apartment, to her small space of freedom. She parked the car and got out of it, opening the door of the apartment and rushing inside of it, searching for bags and things to take with her. Clothes, her personal identifications, her credit cards. Everything.

She called the bank to make sure her parents didn't take away her money. Money that wasn't hers but she knew that she would need.

If someone looked at her from the outside they would think she was crazy, with her makeup and messy hair, a big suitcase and a backpack next to her and a big smile on her lips while looking at the departure screen at the airport.

Greece. Greece is the place she belongs. Something deep inside of her tells her to go there, like soft voices encouraging to buy a ticket no matter how expensive it is. Melodic voices promised her that her destiny is to be there.

And she did that. She ran towards her freedom.

She ran away, leaving her past behind in a hotel room with clothes on the floor, a broken mirror and broken jewels.

Liliane Barton was a woman that didn't want to live in a lie, but fell in love with one.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz @sticksdoesart @beatricemiruna

[hugmeimtouchdeprived]

Ghost!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader - Chapter 1

Here's the first chapter to my ghost!Johnny fic (still trying to come up with a proper title...)

Again, English isn't my first language and this is my first fic, but I'm learning :)

Original drabble | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Your life isn’t what you’d consider spectacular. You have your routine that you follow, every day almost exactly the same and blending into each other.

At least you got a new job recently, at a small local bookstore. Your commute to work just about tripled, but the work itself is more enjoyable than your last job. And taking the train isn’t too bad, even when it’s full to the brim in the evenings when everyone is rushing to get home.

The bookstore itself is lovely. You frequented it before you even started working there, so when you noticed they were looking for new employees you didn’t hesitate to apply. And since the staff at least somewhat knew you already, you were welcomed on board just as quickly. Elphaba, the senior cat that lives in the store, didn’t seem to care one way or another. She doesn’t seem to care about much, other than the armchair in the corner she claimed as hers and the daily treats she gets from staff and customers.

The work is monotonous. And to your surprise, you kind of like that. Of course, you knew what to expect before starting there, working at a bookstore isn’t known to be the most thrilling job. It has that certain structure that you like oh so much. Stock the shelves and keep them organized, order new stock and unload it, keep up with paperwork. With customer service, majority of the time it’s like a script you follow in your head. Easy peasy. No surprises.

The commute to work is fine, although not your favourite. The underground train makes things a lot easier, and at least you can keep your current apartment instead of having to find one closer to the store. Dealing with the hassle that is moving almost across the city is definitely not something you’d want to deal with right now.

Your free time is taking it easy, most of the time. Doing chores, reading, maybe painting on occasion, going for coffee, and gossiping with friends, going on small trips across the country when you can to see old friends from school. Just keeping yourself busy with something, even the little things.

But it’s all so mundane. You like mundane, you tell yourself. There are no sudden, unpleasant surprises, nothing to throw off your entire day. You always have a plan, always prepared for anything.

Until it’s not. Dull and mundane, that is.

It’s just a shadow in the corner of your eye at first, just a trick of the light. That’s what you tell yourself, even when it occasionally moves closer. It disappears right when the train arrives. Sometimes you get a chance to glance at it before that, and it vanishes all the same. It still makes you anxious, paranoid even. As much as you stubbornly refuse to believe it could be anything more than that, it’s still there, every goddamn day. And only in the mornings. Or maybe you just don’t notice it after work; you don’t tend to hang around the station on your way home.

Then it grows darker, bigger, more intimidating. The thing, shadow, whatever, looks almost human, in both shape and size. Maybe you should be scared? But you’re not. Absolutely not. Because it’s not real. No matter how real in feels, and how you know you’re being watched every time you step foot on that platform, there’s still nobody there when you turn to look. Nor does there seem to be any place someone could slip in and hide, either. You can still feel uneasy about things you don’t believe in, right?

No one else seems to notice it, either. Or maybe it’s some common knowledge – that you just happen to not be aware of – that this station is haunted. (No, not haunted. You don’t believe in that stuff. Nope.) A friend of yours, coming to visit you and whom you go greet at the station, doesn’t see it either. You even ask her about it, point at the shadow and ask if she saw it too. She didn’t, of course not. Why would she? It’s not real. She asks if you’re okay, if you’re overworking yourself again. You swear to yourself you won’t bring it up after that, to anyone.

You’re just paranoid, or maybe you’ve watched Ghosts on CBS too many times. Or you’re just straight up losing your mind. That’s always an option.

And it doesn't stop at the station, oh no. Soon enough, you see the same shadow on the train. You assume it’s the same one, at least. Feel it following you around, eventually ending up watching you at work. You’re not sure how to react when Elphaba freaks out at the sight of your new shadow. You really, really don’t want any confirmation that it’s real, no thank you. But Elphaba is an old cat, her black and white fur greying before she even found herself at the bookstore. An old stray looking for shelter from the rain, the staff explained to you once.

Stubborn as she is, she refused to leave after realizing how warm the store is, with customers and staff alike bringing her treats. The owners, a middle-aged couple, decided to let her stay eventually. Named her, bought toys and scratching posts and food bowls and a few beds. She prefers the armchair in the corner of the shop, though.

Brings in customers, too. New customers are surprised to find a friendly feline greeting them with odd chirps, regulars heading straight to her chair to find her and sneak her treats. She’s gained quite a bit of weight after moving into the store, but nobody bats an eye. She’s old, at least over 12 years old for sure even if her exact age isn’t known, who would have the heart to deny her of her treats?

She’s always so calm and friendly to everyone. Doesn’t even mind kids all that much but has definitely learned to find a place to hide if some loud toddler tries to touch her with their grubby little hands. She can usually be found in the backroom then, her tail peeking out from under the couch or beneath the curtains. But still, much of her time is spent in that armchair. She likes the attention she gets there. If anyone else dares to sit in it, or God forbid some audacious customer shoos her away from it, she’ll go scream at the closest staff member until the injustice has been corrected.

With how calm and lazy Elphaba usually is, it’s quite shocking to see her freaking out when you arrive at work with an extra shadow in tow. She hisses at the dark corner it stands in before running away, hiding in your lap. Rinse and repeat every time she gains the confidence to approach the shadowy being, seemingly trying to intimidate it and failing miserably.

You try to calm her, tell her it’s okay, that there’s nothing there, but it’s hard when you’re not sure if you believe it yourself. Your coworkers laugh and say she must be seeing ghosts. You don’t find it funny, not with your current predicament, but laugh politely anyway. Elphaba ends up getting used to the shadow as the days pass, staring at it in silence from a distance before running off again. Or she’ll be lounging somewhere and suddenly bolt for seemingly no reason. Everyone else laughs, saying she must have been spooked by something. You see the shadow standing where she just laid.

And the thing is, after a few more weeks, it doesn’t disappear the moment you try to lay your eyes on it. It remains, at least for a few seconds, enough for you know you really did see it. The thing is getting bolder by the day, always surprising you with new things. It goes from creeping around to eventually throwing things around. Not aggressively, you don’t think. Tossing your pen under your desk, dropping books from the shelves. Some of Elphaba’s toys even get thrown in front of her face, as it this thing wants to play with her. She either runs off or ignores it.

The books feel like they have some significance, you just struggle to figure it out. It never seems to be just random books flying across the room; they’re all related to either the military or ghost stories. At first you judge the thing’s – you don’t know what else to call it besides a shadow or a thing – book preferences, until your brain starts to connect the dots.

It started with the few copies of Casper the Friendly ghost comics in the kids’ section. Then some more books about friendly ghosts, and some military history books. You try not to think too deeply about it. You’re not being haunted, after all, so why concern yourself with trying to solve a non-existent mystery like this? Someone just didn’t put the books properly back on their shelves, some military or ghost enthusiast. And poor little Elphaba hasn’t been herself recently anyway, she could be knocking them down too. Although it is odd how these things seem to happen only when you’re on shift.

You feel it’s presence stronger, too. It’s gaining strength, or maybe just becoming bolder around you. There’s barely a moment anymore where you don’t feel watched, where you don’t see it looking at you.

It’s looking more human, too. Shaped like a person, tall and strong, instead of just a dark shape in the corner of your eye.

You try asking it things. What or who it is, where it came from, why is it following you around. If it could leave you alone, please and thank you. (All this, and you still try to convince yourself it’s not real. Denial is bliss.) It never responds, and you can’t figure out if it’s because it can’t, or just doesn’t want to.

It’s getting to a point where even when you know the shadow is not there, while out running some errands or while out seeing friends, you almost miss it. And you know for certain that it isn’t following you, you don’t feel its heavy, overwhelming presence behind you, around you, right next to you. It’s weird getting accustomed to it as the weeks and months go by.

Your home isn’t safe anymore, either. It takes longer for the thing to follow you home than it did to follow you to work. You’d like to think it’s because it wanted to respect your privacy or whatever, but that, too, came to an end eventually. Or maybe you failed to notice it at first, maybe this isn’t the first time it’s inside your home.

Your already small apartment feels even more claustrophobic with it lurking around. It’s like having a roommate that has no respect for personal space, always feeling like someone is watching over your shoulder as you cook, or staring at you through the mirror when getting ready for the day or for bed.

It's almost like you can feel the weight of someone next to you on the couch while watching tv, and catch a glimpse of your shady roommate next to your once the screen turns black, arm behind your shoulder on the back of the couch for a brief moment before vanishing.

Not a damn moment of peace, even in your own home.

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!🌷

[depressopax]

LCDP NSFW Alphabet

Part 5 - T-V | Multiple characters.

Fandom - La casa de papel

»» Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 ««

OMG it's been ages! 😭

I missed posting fanfics :(

So here we go again! 🫶🥳

Pairing: Multiple LCDP characters x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. MDNI. Insults, overstimulation, semi-public, dom/sub dynamic. Reader is gender neutral! I only read this once before posting - if you find spelling errors LMK! Words: 1.4K Summary: Part 5 of my LCDP NSFW Alphabet! T-V (Toys, Unfair, Volume) English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3

Nairobi 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She has some (a lot of) toys.

Most of them are for solo play, but now that she has you, it’d be a shame to not use them together, yk… 

If you’re comfortable with it, she can and will use them on you. 

Her favorite on herself being air pulse once

For her partner? Vibrators and stap-ons 👀

And she has more than one of them. Some of them are thin and only a few inches, and… Bigger once. 

Not a toy - but she also has lube etc. - You know what I’m trying to say…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh she’s a teaseee

It turns her on to make you beg 

Or just to mock you (in a loving way tho) for being “sensitive” or needy during sex. 

Nairobi likes keeping you on edge, only allowed to cum when she tells you too

But this is only when she’s feeling a bit mean lol

Other times, she’s very loving and giving, not teasing you a bit 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She’s not scared to be loud 😼

If you’re making her feel good, why hold back?

She likes moaning your name loudly, sometimes hoping someone will hear it just to embarrass you a bit

She has no shame when it comes to volume, and wants to hear you scream too

Berlin

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I feel like he either has some toys, or that he’s the guy that doesn’t own toys and refuses to use them on his partner, since “he’s better than some stupid toy” 

The toys he has are some vibrators, handcuffs, blindfolds etc… Maybe a whip too, who knows? 🤭

…Bonus point if you switch it up and use them on him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

UNFAIRRRRRR AF

Will have you on your knees in the end, only because “it’s funny” to see you beg. 💀

He likes turning you on and leave you begging for more

But he won't give it to you that easily…

He also loves making you flustered - you blushing is the cutest thing to him. 

Good luck ;)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is LOUD and without shame

Grunts, growls, moans

Cuss words, praise, degradation… You name it.

He talks shit in the show, and so he does in the bedroom LMAO

…And whimpers, too - if you fuck him good enough…

He likes dirty talking too.

He actually doesn’t mind if the neighbors hear his moans, combined with the sounds leaving your mouth - he wants everyone to know he’s yours, and that you’re his. 

Denver

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He likes toys!!!

Very experimental and open to trying new things, if that’s what you want.

But he prefers using toys on his partners, or watching them satisfy themselves with a toy 🤭

He’s not picky with what toys to use! Anything that excites you excites him.

If you were to use toys on him, he’d be like: “Ew, no!”

…But eventually be too satisfied to complain ;)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he’s a MEANIE

Edging you and overstimming are his favorite things. 

Using his fingers or mouth on you until you practically cry from the intense pleasure

He’ll even tease you in public - rubbing your ass or thigh, standing close behind you - so you can feel his clothed bulge against your jeans… You name it.

He likes it when you get mad at him. It even turns him on 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The scene where he had sex with Monica during the heist and Arturito heard it?

Yea. That’s the answer.

He is LOUD and PROUD (...sorry, had to)

He moans your name, cusses, whimpers… Everything all at once.

But how could he not? “You feel so fucking good babe…” Is his excuse. 

People hear it alright… Especially when he fucks you in some public restroom

But he just ignores everyone that stares at him. At least he gets laid-

Tokyo

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns like 1-2 toys, for her own pleasure.

Not really the type of person to share her toys with a partner

But she’ll make an exception of you - if you’re into that. 

She prefers it when you use toys on her, and will specifically guide what you do, to bring her the ultimate pleasure.

Sometime, she def buys you a toy as a gift “I can show you how to use it tonight…”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She lovessss being a tease

Turning you on during the “wrong” moments, wearing revealing clothes and bending down to pick something up… A bit cheesy, but she looks good doing it.

She knows what buttons to push to either turn you on or make you annoyed - maybe both. Actually… - Both works. 

A bit of a “brat” when she teases you. She likes it when you eventually take control and give her what she wants

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not that loud, really. 

She moans and cusses, but only loud enough for you.

She doesn’t want everyone to know what you two are doing - it annoys her when other people do, and she doesn’t want to do the same shit. 

She doesn’t mind you being loud, tho…

Only means she’s doing a good job. ;)

Professor

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He hasn’t really considered it, before meeting you.

Probably got embarrassed when you brought it up, but also aroused. 

He once agreed to use some toys on you during sex - and he LOVED it.

The sounds you made, how you squirmed, the vibrations from the toy that numbed his hand when holding it… 

It was addicting.

He probably looks online for sex toys, fantasizing about which he’d use on you, and what you would look like when he satisfied you…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is not that much of a tease.

Only during foreplays

He is good with his fingers and likes being praised for it

…But also loves the power he holds over you when he pleases you with his hands. 

The way he can make you beg, and cum multiple times amazes him. 

So of course he uses your pleasure as a way to tease you sometimes… 

Having you beg for more, or just stopping before you climax, looking down at you with a cocky damn grin. 

Oh but you will get your revenge later… And he’ll enjoy it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is embarrassed about the sounds he makes

At first he was quiet during sex

But it created awkward tension. 

Last thing he wanted was to make you feel like you didn’t do a good job. Because oh, you did…

With some reassurance, he dares to make sounds.

And eventually he moans and whimpers without shame.

He’s not that loud, but he does sound hot when he cums… ;)

Alicia Sierra

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh boy… Y E S.

She owns toys, alright.

Strap-ons, vibrators, handcuffs, buttplugs, you name it…

She only uses those you’re comfortable with, ofc.

But she is a bit… Kinky 🤭

She uses them on herself, especially when she was single.

But using them on her sweet partner? That's another level of pleasure…

Giving you that amount of pleasure makes her smile like an idiot.

Oh she loves slutting you out with her toy collection…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She’s very unfair and teasing.

She wears provocative clothes, whispers dirty things to you, and sends lewds… Whatever, and whenever. 

And it works every damn time. 

She likes frustrating you with not giving you what you want - unless you beg for it…

And trust me, she’ll make you beg. 

She loves you dearly, but this woman is a meanie.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Shameless when it comes to how loud she is

Because she is loud

Like in the show, she’s a bit… Unpredictable sometimes. So ofc she will scream and moan loud enough for people to hear her

And she definitely makes you moan just as loud.

AHHH I hope this was good! It's been a while since I wrote fanfics on here 😭

Please reblog and share if y'all liked it and THANK YOU for reading!! <33

[sleepyleftistdemon]

(CW: mental health issues, gender dysphoria, disassociation, suicidal thoughts (and actual suicides), and maybe more)

I've been thinking about putting up my story for Pride Month. I started typing in this whole thing in someone else's post, but I didn't want to hijack it. (Although it was talking about some of the stuff I am putting here.)

Some background:

I was a military brat growing up. That means that I moved around a lot. That means that I didn't have the same groups of people around me, except for my parents and sister. Therefore, nobody could recognize my issues since most people thought it was just the way I was.

I am on the autism spectrum. That means (for this stuff at least) that I don't really do self-reflection well. Add that to the above point and... yeah.

Because I wasn't diagnosed with autism, my parents thought I was weird, weak, and an idiot. Oh they didn't say anything like that, but you could tell that's what they thought. I heard "You're old enough to know better" so many times. But I never caused major issues, so they thought that I would always do what they said.

When I was in single digits (1970s), every time I took a bath I would spend time trying to shove my p*nis back into my body. It didn't belong. So I was already experiencing gender dysphoria even back then.

I was miserable and without a reason I could recognize (not having heard of trans people). "Fortunately" while still in single digits, I found a character on a TV show that knew how to handle negative emotions. The show was "Star Trek", the character was Mr. Spock, and the method was repression.

So I was okay for a while.

In 10th grade, repression turned into (undiagnosed) depression, something else that nobody (including me) recognized. I thought it was perfectly normal to think about suicide when I had homework to do.

(I even remember the assignment that was the last straw. It was to write a romantic scene for English class. I wrote a note on it, telling the teacher I never wanted to see it again. She thought it was about how bad it was. I didn't tell her that it triggered me.)

After high school, I joined the military. It wasn't because I wanted to or anything like that. My parents wanted me to join and, with my depression, I really didn't care what I did.

After serving 4 years, I went to college. I was struggling a bit, so I went to get tested for ADHD at the student health center. (I had read up on it, including how a lot of people with ADHD were mistakenly diagnosed with depression. Ironic, really, because...)

I was diagnosed with disthymia, a chronic, low-grade depression. I got medication (Zoloft) and tried therapy. Since I was repressing and didn't realize it, I got nothing out of therapy, but the Zoloft worked enough for me to function.

Imagine, if you will, a wooden boat with a figurehead (me) on the bow. (Is that the right word? If not, deal with it.) Before the Zoloft, the boat builders put the figurehead almost completely underwater. I would come up for air, but it was difficult. After the Zoloft, it was like the workers moved the figurehead right at the waterline. I would have good and bad times, but they were all still under a cloud of depression.

Speaking of imagining things, do you remember the tiny alien controlling/riding in the robot in the movie "Men In Black"? Another thing that I did (and since I don't know when I started, so I'm just gonna put it here) was I pictured something similar like that for me. Except instead of picturing myself as an alien, I pictured myself as a small piece of dimmed light "no bigger than a flake of dandruff". (And I put those words in quotes because that is the exact wording I used.)

That, BTW, is called disassociation.

I the 2000s I got married to a woman that my parents hated. My parents disowned me because I wouldn't divorce her, thinking it would shock me enough to do what they wanted. Instead I disowned them right back by changing my last name and didn't attempt to contact them again.

My dad died in 2010. I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral. It wasn't until years later that I found out that he probably killed himself due to having early onset dementia.

After that, my mom got into more regular contact with me. She lived until her suicide in 2016. (She had bipolar disorder and I learned later that she had attempted suicide earlier. And that both of my parents cheated on each other during their marriage.) My ex-wife (yes, we did divorce but not because of my parents; she was hooked on opiods and had Borderline Personality Disorder) died the same year.

(I tried to get her (ex-wife) help, but she didn't want to change. After being left at work since she had the car AND finding her passed out on the toilet with drugs she got less than 2 hours before she was supposed to come get me, I had had enough.)

Anyway, that gave me a date where I felt I could commit suicide. I would be able to live a day longer than either of my parents (who I said saw me as weak), thus proving that I am stronger than they were while still not having to deal with my depression forever.

You know what saved me? One of the posts I read here on Tumblr a while back. The original post said that like women who buy fake p*nises, men can buy fake breasts. A reply to that post said that many men who bought those turned out to be trans.

I really didn't think that I was trans. I ordered fake breasts from Amazon and tried them out. They seemed great, but they weren't an actual part of me.

I wrestled with the thought that I might be trans. I asked myself if I was a woman if I'd still want to die. (The answer, BTW, was no.)

It wasn't until 2 months later that I went to a nail salon and got my nails painted that I experienced gender euphoria. Using the figurehead imagery from above, it was like the figurehead was at the top of the bow, riding proudly on the ship. Instead of seeing myself as smaller than the flake of dandruff, I pictured myself as a gingerbread woman inside the shell of a gingerbread man (keep this in mind).

It also reminded me of the single digits me in the bathtub, miserable without the words to say why. Repression sucks.

Since I am a veteran (and since it's cheaper than health insurance), I get my healthcare from the VA. I talked it over with the psychologist (or psychiatrist - whichever one can prescribe medicine). It took a while (mainly to get me comfortable with it) to see an endocrinologist. (Well, first I had to see a therapist to answer questions to make sure I was a good fit. When I brought up the gingerbread visual, she said that many trans people use the gingerbread imagery to help describe what they're feeling.)

So in May of 2024 (last month from when I posted this), I finally started on HRT. And while my depression is starting to creep back in (HRT doesn't work overnight), I realize that I am finally on the right path for me and my happiness.

(Of course, with all of the new transphobic laws and such coming into effect, this is also a stressful path. But it's the only way for me to go.)

I do hope this helps people, whether to know they aren't alone (for people still in their egg) or to help the transphobic people out there to see that trans people are just people, trying their best to get through life as painlessly as possible.

[ultimateaclrecovery]

Japan Day 11 (from my trip last November, but this is the last one!)

Last day in Tokyo and travel home!

Started the day with some more temple and some cute bridges with a bunch of koi

And then it was mostly shopping for last minute souvenirs and things that are cheaper in Japan. So here are some more fun Disney pictures!

Ended the trip by finally getting the panda cream puffs from stand right by our hotel transit stop, and then it was homeward bound! I celebrated being home by using my new bear shaped pancake maker to keep the cute food going.

What a wonderful trip!

Overly long travel diary (read if bored)

Day 11

Started our day fairly early with free hotel breakfast and then took the train to see tokyos temple. It had a cool pagado and a garden with a bunch of koi but I admit to being a little templed out at this point. We spend the rest of our morning time before the airport shopping. We start at the little stall market by the temple that is just starting to open. I get a bird shaped custard to eat right then 80 yen. And a box set of fun ct character custards to eat later. And a little lantern that I will make a Christmas ornament, best part I get a 500 yen coin so now I have the full set.

We then go to a grocery for snacks and then a don Quito for more snacks and weird things. I get some snacks and some socks for my brothers girlfriend.

Then we go look at fancy tea and dish ware for my bf. He gets a sake set and a tea set and a get a little heart shaped mold for making rice balls. We then go to Tokyo station for ramen and back to the character store so I can get the penguin in a Christmas tree that I’ve been thinking about all week. It’s smaller than I had built it up in my head but it’s still so cute so I get it even tho it is over priced and silly. It’s cute and makes me happy. I look for other things I might want but don’t really find anything.

We then head back out to do more shopping and whatnot at a normal mall. Anthony gets normal things like socks and underwear because they are cheaper here and we find our dads matching Japanese shirts. They are nicer than ones we’ve seen at the souvenir shops. I really want a womens cut shirt but I don’t think they have any. They have some fun womens graphics and I find one I really like but it’s only in large. We realize you can print the designs on different shirts or design your own but can’t quite figure it out. I try asking the guy working there if I can get the one I like in a medium and luckily he knows enough English to figure what I’m asking and sets it all up. I then have to go buy the medium shirt and then get it to printing people. I manage to do it successfully but only because the workers know some English. Although they keep trying to explain things to me in Japanese before giving up and pointing at their English signs or trying use what English they know. I worry as I get printed that maybe I should’ve gotten a small but it’s cotton so it will shrink a little so it should be fine.

We head back to towards the hotel and get vending machine drinks on the way, can’t believe I made it this far without using a vending machine. I use some of what’s left of my ic card for a 180 yen grape Fanta. I love me some things that are purple even tho I don’t normally like pop. I got my ic card down to like 200 yen so I did pretty good job there.

And then it’s off to buy panda custards! They’ve been selling them at the train station nearest our hotel and I’ve wanted them since we’ve got here.

Then collect our bags from the hotel and head to the bigger train station to get tickets for the train to the airport. It’s a special one so can’t just use your ic card.

At the airport we mostly breeze through security except I forgot a tiny water bottle in my backpack from the flight out here oops. And then we go to the liquor store so my bf can get fun liquor and I buy one of the bottle for him since the us it’s only one tax free per person.

We stop by at another store just to see and I find the cutest howls moving castle tote bag. It’s a little over priced (ghibli plus airport) but it’s the cutest tote bag I’ve seen here so I get it.

I then get ice cream with my remaining, non souvenir coins.

The flight is uneventful and then his parents give us a ride back to his place my first time meeting them which is a little overwhelming after traveling for so long. I take a 20 dollar lyft back from his place and then it’s home sweet. I crank my heat back up to normal and start to unpack.

General thoughts.

The toilets here can be so fancy. Minus the one public restroom one just in the street that was just the hole in the ground. But any western toilets have bidets and a lot of them are fancy enough to lift up their kids when you walk into the room. My favorite tho is the public restrooms with little speakers that can play water music at the push of a button. Anthony thinks this is to cover the sounds of peeing or pooping but I think the rushing water is also to help you go.

[so-many-fandoms-here]

hi! idk if youre taking requests atm so in case u don’t, feel free to ignore this :-) anyways, i’ve been obsessed with the way you write and i was wondering if you could write something with niragi, inspired by house of balloons by the weeknd!! i think his character kinda suits the lyrics so i thought that could be fun!! it can be anything rlly, smut, angst or just anything :-) tysm and have a good good day!!! 🫶🫶🫶

Heyy :)) This is my first request since quite a while so I'm actually pretty excited right now :D Thank you so much <3

I listened to the song a few times beforehand and you're right, it really suits Niragi.

I took a lot inspiration from these verses:

You look into my eyes You can't recognize my face You're in my world now

So just don't blame it on me, girl 'Cause you wanted to have fun

Oh this is fun fun (...) This is fun to me

—

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice)

• Characters: Suguru Niragi, fem!Reader

• Genre: Angst

• Warnings: abuse, bullying

Remember

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

I have no idea how I was able to survive so long without anyone by my side. I lived like a stray dog for weeks until I met these really nice guys (who probably just wanted to fuck me). They had a fucking car and told me about this place.

The Beach. That's how they called it. It used to be a resort back in the real world. Some crazy guy, Hatter, found it and created some cult-like society. I didn't had the best gut feeling but anything was better than my current situation. So I let them touch my tits a few times and in return they took me with them.

The Beach was a way bigger deal than I thought. Dozens of players lived here and there was food, water and electricity. This place was actually alive.

Yes, it still was a weird cult-like place, but a safe place afterall. I was just supposed to bring the cards I own to Hatter (they didn't exaggerate, this man was definetly some kind of crazy) and had to wear swimwear so I couldn't hide any weapons on my body, which actually made sense to me.

The guys that brought me here explained a bit more to me. At first I didn't want to listen, but when they mentioned the militants I started to pay attention. Because they where allowed to carry weapons with them.

I didn't really care about anything else they had to say about them.

They where allowed to carry weapons with them!

Call me paranoid but I would feel so much more safe around here if I had a gun or something. These people might be in the same boat with me but everyone would safe themselves first from drowning. Me too.

They wanted to survive. I wanted to survive. And in the time I was here I lost a lot of my empathy because it would get me killed in the blink of an eye.

"Who is the leader of those executives?", I ask, swirling my (h/c) hair around my right index finger while putting on my best doggy eyes.

They looked at me like I was just as crazy as Hatter but after a few seconds of hesitation they answered anyways. "Aguni. Really short hair, scar on his face. It doesn't matter though, you instantly feel that he is the leader, when you are around him."

I took note of the facts about his appearence anyways, just in case.

"He is never alone though. His comrades are like flies, pretty sure this man doesn't even shit alone." I ignored his comment and was already looking around.

"Imma head to my room guys", I said without looking at the men. "I'm tired." They either didn't caught my lie, or they simply didn't care. They just nodded and let me head off.

I was of course not going to my room. I was way too curious about this Aguni. The things I would do for a stupid gun...

The sun was long gone when I saw him. The boys where right, he had this aura that basically screamed at you. And as expected, he wasn't alone.

For a second my confidence began to fade. Did I really want to talk to this guy? Would that be as smart as I thought? But I caught myself quickly again. I would die one way or another, where is the difference if it's through a game or his hands?

After I took a deep breath I stood up from my chair I had sit on and walked straight up to him. People stared, some whispered but I ignored them.

"Are you Aguni?" I ask him when I arrived in front of him but before he could even think of an answer another man slipped around him and build himself up in front of me. A big gun rested on his shoulder and the amused look in his dark eyes showed that he wasn't afraid to use it.

But there was something else in his eyes. Something so familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Maybe we went to school together? That wasn't so unlikely based on how many people were here.

"Do you really think our boss has time for a stupid chick like you?", he asked while he grinned like an idiot. A hand placed itself on his shoulder and shoved him to the side. "Niragi." A voice scolded him.

The name didn't ring a bell. I probably saw him around school sometimes. Based on how he acted here he probably was one of those bullies in school that degraded literally anyone. You didn't even need to look or act different, sometimes you where just at the wrong place at the wrong time and your school year was literally over.

"Let her talk", the voice appeared again. Agunis voice.

I tried to make myself taller than I was and tried so desperatly to look brave, that I probably looked like a fool. "I want to join the militants."

I held my breath while biting my tongue. I really didn't know what to expect. Maybe he would kill me right on the spot? Or maybe not. I didn't know which one I would prefer.

He tilted his head and eyed me from head to toe. "It's not that easy." "I don't care!", I interrupted him and felt the heat spreading into my face immediatly after I spoke.

There was silence for a short while and I was absolutely sure that someone would kill me on the spot, but then he laughed quietly which scared me even more. "Or maybe it is that easy after all", he said eventually.

I felt the burning eyes of his subordinants and for a second I thought I would throw up on Agunis feet. "I like you. You're in."

I didn't know what just happened. It was so much yet nothing. All it took was for me to interrupt the leader? This had to be a trap, right?

"Nobody dared to talk to me like that since I came here", Aguni explained. "Don't think I would tolerate it, I don't, but at least you're somewhat reckless. If you're reckless in other aspects too, this could work." His hand dissapeared in the pocket of his jeans and came back out with a pair of keys which he handed Niragi. "Show her the guns."

Niragi looked far from happy about this order. "Why me?", he asked rather irritated. Aguni looked him dead in the eyes. "'Cuz you're my right hand. And you do what I say."

It looked like Niragi wanted to say something but bit his tongue. Instead he turned around and stormed off. Without saying a word I followed him, now even more scared than I was before.

Niragi walked quick and with big steps he crossed the halls of The Beach. At a heavy door he stopped and turned around to wait for me. "Hurry up!", he yelled annoyed while waiting for me. Slightly out of breath I stopped next to him and looked while he opened the door which revealed a rather dark stairwell that only lead down. "It's downstairs", he explained before starting to walk again.

I tried my best to stay beside him while we walked down where I supposed was the basement. Here were probably the generators and all that kind of stuff.

We crossed another long hallway until he stopped at the last door on the right side. Then he used the key to unlock the door and before I could process everything properly I found myself between dozens of weapons and guns.

Niragi pushed me inside and quickly closed the door behind him. Then he locked it and turned around to look me in the eyes. Fear crawled up my throat and my heart started to beat faster than it ever did in my whole life.

"Long time no see (Y/n)", he said. The keys dissapeared into his pockets so I had no chance to get them. Confusion mixed with my fear. "You know my name?"

His smile appeared back on his face for a second but then faded again. "How could I forget?"

My confusion grew while I desperatly tried to remember from where I could possibly know him.

"Come on", he cooed while he looked at me with expectant eyes. "Don't you remember?" He raised his free hand, made a circle with his thumb and index finger and held it in front of his eye, mimicking glasses, while tilting his head to the side. Then he pushed his lower lip slightly in front of his upper lip, frowning exaggerated.

It hit me with such force that I felt nauseous again. The sad face he put was badly played, but I could see it anyways. I saw the boy with the glasses in front of me, crying while my brother swung the baseball bat. "There it is", Niragi whispered. "The recognicion."

All those years I tried my best to forget these eyes. And I did. But now it seemed like this was a huge mistake.

„When I saw you upstairs my stomach dropped. I thought one of us would die when Aguni said I should show you the guns. The thought of all the feelings you could bring up again did something to me but I must admit that it’s rather pleasant to be alone with you.“

I stumbled back, tried to get more distance between us but Niragi instantly closed the distance again by taking the same amount of steps in my direction I took to get away from him. Not because I was scared, not only, but because I was emberrassed.

"How's your brother?" My eyes locked with his. As I looked longer into them I see how broken they are. Just like back then, but still different somehow. The eyes that looked into my direction, screaming for help, which I avoided like the plague because the guilt shook through me. The guilt that I didn’t dare to help him.

My brother made me look how they tortured him and for everytime I looked away, he would hit me when we got home. With his fist, with his belt or he would throw plates or glasses at me.

"I'm sorry", I whispered, tears stinging in my eyes. Again I avoided his eyes but I couldn't for long because his hand found my face and forced me to look at him.

"I remember your black eyes, the gross swelling shimmering a different color everyday", he whispered and I felt his breath on my face. "Blue, violet, yellow, like a violent, ugly rainbow."

Niragis eyes studied my face, stopping at the scar over my eyebrow. I knew he looked at it because I it suddenly started to throb just like the day I got it.

"That was for when I didn't threw the baseball at you", I answered before he could ask anything about it. It felt good to remind him, remind me, that I didn't want this to happen. When I refused to, he threw a mug at me. It broke it half when it landed on the floor, then he picked it up and threw it again. It cut into my skin leaving the about 2 inch long scar behind

"Where is he now?", he asked still inspecting my scar. I shrugged my shoulders. "I came here alone." I was scared that he might thought I was lying but he seemed to believe me, which made me relax a bit.

"He'd be surprised what his little games did to me. What I have become…" He let go of me but I still looked at him. "I always liked you, you know? You understood." I nodded. "I will kill him if I ever see him again." I nodded again. "And will make him suffer how I suffered." I nodded a third time while I took a glance at his pierced tongue. The pictures of the dirty needle my brother pushed through it popped up in my head again.

"I will find him and then we will play my game." Niragi walks up to one of the shelves and took a gun, rather small compared to his, then some ammo and handed it to me. "Our game."

I looked at the gun in his hand. It was my choice. If I take it I would make a pact with him. I hated my brother with all my heart but I was still hesitant. Is vigilantism the way? My way?

"It's your choice", Niragi reminded me. I took the gun. There is no justice in Borderland, so why not make it myself?

"I will make it my world", he said. "Where no one will look down on me ever again. On us."

His eyes practically burned into mine but I couldn't look away. My iris's where tied to his and I wondered if somewhere inside was still the Niragi I met in the past or if it destroyed him completly.

[alwaysshallow]

— coffee at midnight, part 4

John "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

Mission gets difficult. (3,3k)

1 | 2 | 3

AO3 version

Everyone had missions that they liked the most, and it happened for you to have a mission you absolutely loved - getting an intel without having to fight for it; at least, physically. It was all about manipulation, asking the right people, making connections that seemed difficult at first, but puzzle after puzzle, made perfect sense.

You could probably say that you liked it even more than hacking – tracking people with your skills. Right, it was fun with codes, breaking in to places that your eyes definitely shouldn't be, seeing TF141 absolutely bamboozled because 'they only saw it in TV'. Comments like these pumped you up, but actually interacting with people was your cup of tea.

Probably it was because your moms sent you on multiple social courses organized by military before you even joined it – or just because it was a personal preference of a thrill that came with it. For instance, being one by one with computer is a little different than actually engaging in conversation with human being. Someone... unpredictable. Someone who isn't coded to act in certain ways, but someone who's actually a challenge.

And, you liked challenges most of the time because of your competitive nature.

It was sometimes troublesome, especially after alcohol, when your sense of survival was low – you had that one situation in mind, where you started a bar fight. You fought with the biggest guy; Soap was pretty proud of you, unlike Price who, sort of, scolded you because you were 'unreasonable'. You took it all, but you saw that little smile in the corner of his lips that was more satisfying than anything else. You got an intel, even if it ended in breaking guy's nose.

A little accident in work, you could say that – he looked better after breaking it, though. More... badass, as you described it to Alejandro since he wasn't there. Hell, his laugh back then was everything.

So, all in all, you loved getting intel, even if it was hard, even if it needed a double effort, not by violence that happened out there in a field. There was already too much of it in your life, you had enough.

Sadly, nothing special was coming out of people from that village in Mexico, even with Alejandro speaking to them in Spanish. Scraps of information, people that seemed to "know" but with more questions, it was just repeating the same gossip all over again which lead pretty much to nothing.

Or, it was just a big imagination of a person that you were dealing with.

It irritated you to the point you wanted to call the boys and tell them it's probably nothing in there; that was until you saw a little girl sitting down the porch. Probably her home; it didn't matter in the bigger picture though, considering you immediately went to her with a smile on your face. Forced one, but that was a part of the job since it wasn't your place to scare her.

"Hey. I'm Ros" you knelt right in front of her, trying to appear as friendly as you could. "Can I sit here and talk a bit? You have pretty cool stuff over here, bracelets."

It was only your luck that girl knew how to speak in English and was willing to do it – starting with a small talk about bracelets that she's making. She seemed pretty passionate about it, especially when she got bolder in speaking, showing you all of her materials and such, asking if you want one.

Of course you wanted one. Her face light up when you said it and after some words that she blabbed in Spanish (you only understood some of it because of Alejandro), she started making one, especially for you.

Perfect moment to ask questions, so you started with it, a certain delicacy to your words since she was a child – you mentioned pick-up cars driving around town, "funny dressed up people" wandering, to put everything lightly. To give her a hint, to make her talk, without her realizing that she gives some information.

Kids were the best source and you knew it; this time was the same. She agreed with you on them funny-looking, but she also mentioned they were a bit "horripilante" with their behavior. They were lurking, asking questions, acting like they're protectors of the town, which made your blood boil, but you said nothing. You only smiled, nodded because trying to act unbothered was the key here.

Estella – that was her name you learned – also said something about them coming in the same hour. You had your assumptions, but you asked what she has in her mind just to be sure. When you learned that it's about being here daily, around late afternoon, you just took bracelet from her, thanking for the gift and you swiftly moved to Soap to tell him that.

It's something you were excited about; informations. Something that you could cling onto, something that was finally important, even if today you wouldn't catch any member of this group. The excitement and thrill faltered in the moment when you saw Soap blatantly flirting with some pretty, blonde chick with smile reaching her eyes, cockily twirling her hair around her finger.

Girl he was talking to was awfully pretty, feminine, in a long, summer dress. Hell, he was practically mesmerized by her, and you couldn't help but wonder if he even gained some information from her or just started immediately flirting.

You clenched your jaw, looking away from them – you hated that he was doing it on duty, when every minute is important, when every civilian asked is important, but only if they have any information. Or just a clue who could know something.

Though, was it the only thing why you hated him flirting with her? Smiling like crazy, tilting his head like a puppy, his hands in pockets, posture calmed, yet on alert. He was so goddamn charming without trying, so you weren't really surprised that he flirted. He knew his looks and how to use it.

It was something you observed daily, you knew Soap very well, right? So why being jealous now?

It was like adding two to two, but you refused to do the math, so you just rolled your eyes. You had better things than observing them while you had something really important. After this, telling him something you learned, you could ignore him.

If you wouldn't tell him anything, he would call you out on your behavior – and you certainly didn't want that.

Fucking MacTavish.

"Got some info. Follow me." you murmured, your hand going to the radio, to turn it on; with that, you started walking again, as you expected Soap to just follow you, you didn't have time to chit-chat. "Alejandro, do you copy?"

"Affirmative, Bird."

"Kiddo told me they are coming here every day around the same hour. Afternoon, actin' like fucking bosses of this town, dressed funny. Asking questions." you looked back at Johnny; he was indeed following you, but his look was... weird. Burning hole in you, like he wanted to say something. Thank God he was quiet. You didn't need that.

"Pendejos. You think they want something?"

"I think they look for someone. Or they're patrolling their land to have control here. Can be both."

"Move south, you and Soap. We'll meet here, we need people."

"Roger that. Out."

You put your radio back on place, moving just like Alejandro told you both to; he was the one commanding here since Price, Gaz and Ghost were somewhere else with your mom. Splitting into two teams was the safest and most efficient option here, considering the amount of shit you had to do in order to get anything useful.

Mission was like moving one step forward, but three steps back – you thought you had something and it ends up in being a true dead-end. Yet, you had time (even if not precised) when those motherfuckers like to come around. It was something, you just needed to actually capture at least one of them.

The one who matters, the one who actually knows some patterns or maybe someone who could bring you to their base. Fuck, that would be literally perfect, wouldn't it? Some progress and you needed that desperately.

"Lass not talkin' to me? Not very classy" Soap joked, nudging you, which brought you back to earth. You raised an eyebrow.

"Flirting with a chick when we have job to do? Not very classy either" you shrugged, trying not to say anything snarkier than that; he was already looking at you like he was... amused, to say the least.

"What? I wasn't flirting."

"Mhm." you just said, continuing the walk.

"Oh, come on, are you jealous or something? I wasn't trying to abandon you in a mission, just wanted to talk to her. She seems pretty, no?"

Oh, that was the main problem in all that, sure – you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes again; at this point, you were pretty sure it's gonna become a habit.

"Whatever you say. She seems your type."

"Seems? You think I like blondes?" his tone became mocking.

You didn't even had a chance to answer him -it's the few missed shots near your leg that alerted you and Johnny. Both of you hid near closest car, probably one of your soldiers brought it in – it didn't matter anyway, though.

What mattered?

Getting somewhereto estimate the situation, before moving again. Car wasn't really the safest option since someone could shoot easily the container and make a big explosion, but it was the closest. You had to think fast, both of you, before something unpleasant would happen, to say the least.

A swift movement brings your weapon from your back to your hands – you find yourself peeking out, eyes darting anxiously to find something. It could be the hour those fuckers came in, you realized quickly, but it could be also someone from the village. Alejandro said they're not very friendly to outsiders, no? Everyone around had gun and taking down a civilian wasn't the way, it would only make people nuts.

For fuck's sake.

"Keep your head low, Birdie." Soap murmured; his sniper riffle leaning a bit on your shoulder – probably just in case since you had his back, and he had yours. "Alejandro. Few shots near Bird, got some vision who these fuckers might be?"

"Affirmative, took three of them. You have to move now, at least four vehicles are coming your way."

"Bird here. If we're gonna wait, we might catch someone important and-"

"-just do what I've said, we do not know how many men they have, we have to observe first. We don't have back-up nearby." Vargas cut you off, his voice stern, leaving no pole for discussion. "We're not playing rocky here. Let's pray they haven't seen you both."

"Copy that, Ale. Out." you mumbled; Soap nodded at you, and in one moment, you both started moving again, keeping yourself on the high alert.

After a minute or two, you pretty much learned you wished it would be only four vehicles. From Alejandro's side, sure, they were three, but from others, you counted ten at least, coming every way possible. At this point, leaving would be risky – so thought Soap – so you two hid behind a house, near barrels with food, your weapon ready to use if necessary.

Praying to God, if he existed, to spare you both.

While Johnny was taking care of quietly calling Alejandro to update him on situation, to see if he could help any way, you were listening to strangers. Just like little girl said, they were looking for something, talking to local people if any 'dangers' appeared recently. If they could help in any way.

You almost scoffed at this. The shit they were saying... you hoped that no one believed that.

Someone also told them about you and Soap wandering around – "military" questioning people, as young man defined with piqued the curiosity in those motherfuckers. Questions became more specific – about looks, nationality, accent. They seemed to know what to ask for, meanwhile most of the his band, cartel or whatever was their organization, were looking around.

You took one man down when he came closer with your knife – cut clear and precise, before he even said something about the presence of you two. It could be said it was a good thing you did it because in his pockets were valuable things.

"Good girl." Johnny whispered, patting your shoulder when you showed him what you had; and that was on map with certain areas circled with red marker, probably their bases or points to search.

Either way, it was something valuable to check, as well as some instructions or another paper – all in Russian, you couldn't understand a thing. You packed it to your cargo pants, praying that translator back in base would be ready for decoding it.

A pair of throwing knives as well, simple glock. Not very fancy.

"Soap, Bird." Alejandro spoke again. "Status?"

"Alive and breathing." you murmured. "Found something nice. Map and some shit in Russian. More information, perhaps."

"Russian? Fuck, that's the last thing we needed, their engagement" he sighed. "Run rightnow, we're gonna distract them. It's good moment for that, I transported some men around."

"Rog." you took a look at Soap. "Let's go, Johnny. We stay close."

"Ay, ay, sergeant."

Quick and quiet – that's how it was supposed to go, without raising any suspicion, without making any mistake that really, could cost your life or worse; tortures. None of you knew what they are capable of, no one knew how exactly they're working since it was the first encounter between you.

Everything was an enigma, and you did not want to take chances, not when they could have big consequences on you two. If you were alone, you could run for it, try, but you were with Soap. It was changing everything.

Seemed like it's gonna be easy, though – woods were pretty close, nothing was in your way, Alejandro's men were near to transport you and protect just in case.

"Just in case" happened to be the case, considering that you only moved a few meters and someone spotted you and Soap. Not really good, not really helping in your situation, especially that he got his friends to help him in shooting.

Sneaky moves quickly transformed to running, despite rapid shots sent your way; somehow, dodged, thanks to team that was hidden in the woods, distracting the shooters.

Too many men mixed with civilians to try and fight them; it could end badly and in completely innocent victims. Bloodshed wasn't needed, but you managed to take a few snipers down, before one of them got you.

You didn't know from what side, but someone managed to sent you bullets inside your arm; cursing under your breath, you sped up, ignoring Johnny's pleas to maybe hide. Wasn't the time for this, especially when your right arm shook like crazy with weapon in it.

"Birdie got hit in her right arm. Where the fuck you are, Alejandro?!" Soap growled, while you swapped weapon to your left hand.

"Rodolfo will lead you, turn right!"

"We need to be here right now, not to get ourselves killed! If it-"

"Don't exaggerate, Soap. I'm good." you cut in, giving him a look.

Soap scoffed. "Awa’ an bile yer heid. Listen to the elders."

"Will do, if you're gonna finally use proper English. You're not that older than me."

When you reached the jeep and sat on backseats with Johnny, rambling something to Alejandro sitting in the front, you could finally rest.

Well, maybe not entirely, considering that your arm was hurting like a bitch, but at least you were away from crossfire, safe and coming back to temporary base in Mexico. Counted as something, yeah?

You gritted your teeth – your eyelids felt way too heavy for your liking, but it was the thing that you've predicted. Adrenaline was dropping, it wasn't a surprise, yet, your partner in crime was concerned. Talking to you, shaking you a bit; you had to tell him to stop because your arm was even more in pain when he did this.

It's not that you didn't appreciate the care he was giving you, no. It was just you being not only tired, but wounded, and your shaking arm was scaring the shit out of you. Wasn't looking good, to put it lightly.

Thankfully to Rodolfo driving skills (no one trusted Alejandro to do drive), you came to base quickly with medic just waiting for you – without even asking, Soap dragged your ass to him, describing the situation.

You rolled up your sleeve, looking at your arm for the first time... and it didn't look bad. Not as bad as you thought from that pain you experienced because that was worse than the physical injury.

"Ow. Careful" you winced, when doctor took one bullet out of your arm carefully; he immediately apologized and muttered something to his colleague which you obviously didn't catch since you were more focused on not passing out.

Ignoring everyone was the key, so you continued on doing that.

xxx

"You're fucking shitting me–"

"–it's for your good only, we can't risk it."

It wasn't exactly a dream for you to be in a situation like this – surrounded by your teammates, doctor showing your scans after several hours, telling you to take your leave since something was wrong.

Especially when injuries were normally avoiding you, boys suffered mostly, they needed to go and rest, two weeks, maybe a month if something was bad. You were laughing with your mom and Price that nothing is gonna get you; the moment doctor spoke about "taking a break", you riled up.

"You're lucky the bone is okay. The bullet could shatter it, those shots were quite powerful, young lady." doctor explained, looking at you with polite expression. "Nerves are damaged, that's why your arm was shaking, I've seen worse, so a slight recovery will help you get back to form fully. What's important though, you have to rest your arm. Effective immediately."

You sighed. "I've been shot worse, why right now I need recovery?"

"Because it happened to damage your nerve this time with higher power than last times. Previously, it was something different. Thankfully, you don't need surgery, so, as I said" he emphasized his last words "you have to recover."

"Right. Two weeks will do?"

"Two months at least. Maybe more."

You had to blink a few times, look at your team, and at your doctor again. "Pardon? I do not have time for this. Two weeks is like, my best. Right, Price?" you turned to him, trying to find something, probably some support.

When sigh came out from him first, you immediately knew that what you're gonna hear, won't be pleasing.

Not at all.

"We're almost done with this segment of the mission, we just have to check that map you earned, observe them, translate the document. We have enough people to do that, I wanted to send some of you to home anyway."

"Price–"

"–besides, Laswell would kill me if I'd ignore your injury like that. I'll not tolerate discussion, soldier. It's for your good" he stated, looking at you protectively – you knew that look. Nothing was gonna convince him.

Official defeat.

"Copy." you mumbled, certainly unsatisfied with the outcome. You hated being in situation where you practically were sent on leave just because of the injury.

It wasn't right, it wasn't fair to others, you could help. But an order was an order, you had no authority to discuss.

"But" you gave Price irritated look "if you're gonna need help with hacking, I'm literally there. I'll be mad if you're gonna get someone else to help you, literally. And, very sad."

He chuckled. "Of course, you're the best. How could we?"

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Rewrite]

I originally wrote this fic in September and finished it late October 2019. It was one of the first fics I'd ever written for this fandom and it has remained the only multi-chapter fic I ever finished. For years I've been wanting to rewrite this fic, to fix the typos, change the clunky sentences, and include characters I'd introduced but didn't do anything more with. Mostly I want to re-share this fic. It sits at the bottom of my fic list on ao3 and I don't want this fic to be forgotten because it still means a lot to me 5 years on so over the next couple of days I'm gonna go through each chapter and rewrite certain parts. You can read the original on ao3 or you can just read this version. Anyway, this is getting long so Imma shut up now.

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who's had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter One.

A cloud of heavy smoke rises from the four vapers, covering the clear sky above and littering it with stuffy grey puffs. People scramble up and down the dock, trying to keep family members together as they rush to get through the gates. Others stand there gawking at the ship. For those not boarding it’s simply a day out; The greatest ship ever built, the paper’s  call it and those who live nearby wasn’t about to miss out on such a historic day as this.

Mulder stares at it, surprised at just how wonderstruck he is with it. He never put much stock in the rumours when it was being built, believing that she was just going to turn out as all those before her had. That the rumours were just that- rumours.

But he was wrong. Never in his life had he seen a ship as large as the one that towers over him.

He turns to Phoebe, reaching out for her hand as she climbs out of the cab.

“What do you think?” Mulder asks as he helps his fiancé down. “Do you think she’s impressive?”

To no one’s surprise, Phoebe only scoffs at the ship, its presence not changing her mood in the slightest.

“It’s not as grand as the Mauretania.”

Bill Mulder chuckles behind them, handing their luggage to his man-servant, Krycek as the boy passes them onto a baggage handler.

“It’s much bigger than the Mauretania,” he says, ready to quote every fact he had memorised from the London Herald about the ship. “And much more luxurious,” he adds.

Phoebe only huffs, clearly becoming uninterested in their current conversation.

“Careful Fox,” his father warns him. “Hard one to please, that one.” Mulder only manages an uncomfortable laugh already well aware at the difficulties that come attached to Phoebe Green.

With departure time approaching, they begin to make their way towards the ship, weaving their way through the crowds, Phoebe turning her nose up at every person not dressed to the nines, going as far as to dramatically balk and cover her nose as a lower-class foreigner runs across their path.

“Filthy immigrant,” Phoebe scorns at the innocent man. Mulder tries not to let his disgust show at Phoebe’s words; they are excused after all and Mulder rolls his eyes at the clear disrespect his people show towards those less fortunate.

“He’s just trying to get to the ship, Phoebe.”

“Yes, well, maybe he should hurry to a bath instead.”

Mulder ignores her words, instead guiding her through the swarming crowds.

“Honestly Bill,” Mulder’s mother pipes up. “We couldn’t have arrived here earlier rather than scurrying around the docks like rats?”

“I was all packed and ready to go,” Bill says and indicates to the pair in front of him. “It was those two who weren’t.”

Mulder sighs. If anything, it was Phoebe who they had been waiting for.

“We did try to hurry, Mother. Phoebe couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Phoebe scoffs once more. “It’s not my fault that you told me to change.”

“I just thought you would get too warm wearing black all day.”

“I’m in mourning Fox,” Phoebe cries. “The weather doesn’t change that.”

Mulder resists sighing again. Phoebe had been mourning for weeks now. The loss of their baby had brought on this spontaneous trip. Phoebe, having had enough London and “wanting to get away from all the bad memories” all but demanded that they leave for America as soon as possible. A chance for a new start, she told him afterwards. They could get married here and start again. Next thing Mulder knew, he was packing his bag and going back to a country he hadn’t seen since he was a child.

He felt trapped somehow, and it had nothing to do with the swarms of crowds. This was inside him. A cage or a hole he had put himself in. One he didn’t think he was going to get out of any time soon.

She’s been sitting on this bench for what feels like hours now. The stuffy bar overcrowded with sight-seers only now they’ve done the sight-seeing and only drinking is on their mind.

She was told ten minutes. Ten minutes and they would be looking for a ferry to take them back to Ireland. Dana was done with the place. Southampton was the same as everywhere else in England that they’d been- the same people, the same scorning looks they’d get no matter where they go, the same rejections. It’s only a number of times a person can hear ‘no’ before they never want to hear the word again.

Her brother, however, had other ideas. They only came into the bar to ask if there were any ferries available to take them home and somehow Charlie had managed to be roped into a game of poker by a bunch of Norwegians who spoke very little English between them.

The game had currently been going on for a lot longer than the ‘ten minutes’ she was promised.

Dana sighs, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. She’d order a drink if Charlie wasn’t currently gambling away their last penny.

“You lonely, love?” Dana turns towards the speaker. His cockney accent thickened by the slurring of his words. “Ye want sum comp’ny?”

He stumbles towards her, catching himself on the rickety table and smiles at his clumsiness. Dana attempts to shuffle further back into the bench, failing.

“I’m fine,” she says turning away and hoping the man would take the hint.

But he presses on.

“Are ye sure?”

“Aye. I’m sure.” She gets up before the man can say or do anything else, and heads over to Charlie’s table.

Her brother is in full concentration mode. Lip caught between his teeth, eyes scanning his cards and the card laying down on the table. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Countless of times Dana has watched him play, never learning from the mistakes he’s made in previous games. This gambling addiction he’s seemed to have developed has cost them a lot in the finance department, a cost that Dana is not too happy about.

She taps him on the shoulder.

“Charlie, I want to go.”

“Hold on a second…”

His tongue replacing his lip, Charlie gives one nervous glance around at his fellow players.

“Charlie, we need to go.” She tries not to sound like she’s whining, he’s her younger brother for God’s sake, a child, she shouldn’t have to whine.

Charlie ignores her, a smile breaking out across his face.

“I’m sorry, lads.” He places his cards on the table, his smile turning cocky as he reaches over to take his earnings. Dana spies two pieces of paper laying on top of the money.

A large hand grasps Charlie’s. His grin falls as he stares in fear at the man.

“He cheat!” The man yells. With his hand still firmly wrapped around Charlie’s arm, he yanks him forward across the table, his other hand a fist that falls down and smashes straight into his face.

“Charlie!” Dana yells as his body falls slump against the oak. The man backs off as the bar grows quiet, ignoring the winnings that fall onto the floor.

With all concern for her brother, Dana rushes to his side, her hand falling on his face, wiping away the blood that drips down from his wound. You fucking idiot…she thinks.

Charlie’s eyes open slowly, despite the pain he is grinning from ear to ear.

“I won, Dana,” he tells her gleefully. “We’re going to America.”

Dana frowns, bewildered for the moment at what Charlie could possibly be talking about until her eyes fall on those two pieces of paper that lay on the ground. Realisation sets in and she reaches down to pick them up, turning them over to read.

The words White Star Line stare back at her. She looks from the paper in her hand to the ship outside and back to Charlie.

“You’re…you’re not serious?” she asks in awe.

“Yep. Fucker put his ticket down as payment,” Charlie all but shouts still grinning.

Dana stares back at the ticket. She was really about to go to America, the Titanic being the ship to take her there.

“You’re gonna wanna be quick,” a man beside them tells them. He points to his clock on the wall. “Boat leaves in ten minutes.”

At that, Charlie hauls himself off the table as the two siblings begin pushing what money remains on the table into their only bag, not caring for the coins that had fallen onto the floor.

“Hurry up!” Charlie urges her as Dana ties up the bag. “Come on, come on.” He takes the bag throwing it over his shoulder and grabs his sister’s hand, dragging her out of the bar.

They weave their way through the people, Charlie up front and Dana falling slightly behind. She fists her skirt in her palms, pulling it up so as not to trip over it, keeping her eye on Charlie ahead of her and praying she doesn’t lose him.

They collide with everything; people, a cart selling vegetables, a horse and carriage until finally they make it, out of breath, and clutching at their tickets.

“Tickets?,” the crewman orders, his fingers making a grabby motion. They hand them over and snatches it out of their hands. His nose turns up when he reads the names.

“Leif and Ingrid Brevik?” he asks, sceptically.

Dana looks nervously at Charlie, worried that they had just got excited for their new futures only to be turned away at the doors once more.

“Aye, we’re Americans.” Charlie tells him doing nothing to mask his thick Irish accent.

The crewman gives once last glance at the ticket and them. Sighing and probably done dealing with steerage who’s English is minimal he accepts the tickets.

“Get in before I change my mind.”

Relieved, the pair rush in just as the crewman shuts the door.

They make their way down the crowded corridor. People stand looking at the various signs that point in directions of rooms, bathrooms, and general communal areas. They argue, an overload of different words muddled together to make one distorted language.

Dana isn’t paying attention, however. Her eyes switch from the number written down on the ticket to the numbers written on the doors either side of them. Charlie had gotten distracted, eyeing up every woman that they walked past and Dana had finally ripped the paper out of his hands. If he wasn’t going to find their room, she will.

She finds it eventually. 23, near the end of the corridor. Charlie eyes up Room 24.

“Reckon a lass lives in there?” he asks.

Dana focuses on unlocking the door, a sly grin appearing on her face.

“I hope it’s a fat old man with a foot infection.” She looks up only to see the look of disgust appear across her brother’s face and she laughs, gaining the reaction she was looking for.

The door opens to their room. A single bunkbed, a desk and chair with a lamp set upon it, and a chest of drawers are the only furniture that occupy the room.

Charlie shares her sentiments exactly: it’s perfect.

“Beats the cargo hold on a ferry.” He throws the bag onto the chair and proceeds to climb to the top bunk.

She stops him before he can claim it.

“Piss off, I get top bunk.” She grips the back of his shirt, yanking him off the ladder.

“Careful!” Charlie cries. “I’m already injured.”

“So move out the way before I injured you even more.”

He does as he’s told, not without pulling a face beforehand, and throws himself on the bottom bunk.

Dana lies down, thankful to be in a bed that actually feels like a bed and not a brick.

“Hey, Dana?” Charlie calls after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you worried?”

Dana thinks for a second, curious as to what Charlie thinks she should be worried about.

“About what?” she asks.

Silence passes and she waits for an answer.

“Nothing,” Charlie says. “It’s nothing. We got nothing to be worried about.”

Despite being profoundly confused, Dana decides not to push it.

Another bout of silence passes and perhaps Charlie’s fallen asleep. At least that’s what she assumes until she hears his voice again.

“Hey, Dana?”

“What?”

“Do you still have that first-aid kit in the bag? My face is throbbing.”

A pack flops onto the floor beside his bed.

“Cheers.”