#so many of them seem so unbelievably offended at the idea of them being more than platonic for some reason

[christinafaaaye]

no matter how you view dan and phil's relationship, they are together. in every sense of the word, they are together regardless.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey babes, love your work so much🩷

Could you possibly write some body worship and appreciation on daryl (including giving him head)? Like really sweet and caring but also hot as fuck? Lord knows he dederves/needs to hear it😩 Also another idea that popped into my head, could be in this or another fic, but him pulling your hair while fucking you from the behind, not like super rough or anything just kinda affectionate.

Pardon my rambling and thank you for always feeding my inner whore!💖

IT'S JUST A BODY OF YEARS

"That I leave all alone"

THE FUNTIME PARTS: Daryl x Fem!Reader, big boy is insecure, body worship, blowjobs, tbh daryl is a bit subby in this, face-fucking, gentle sex with some gentle hair pulling, creampies and a breeding kink of course

this request is another really old one that I only just recently got an idea for because for some reason I've been absolutely feining to just suck daryls dick. like I want his man peenar in my mouth like candy.

i feel like he gets overly insecure pretty often, some of it dates back to his childhood because I feel like there were definitely times where daryls father shamed him for eating or being "too big" at a young age, so there's always been some self-hatred that he just needs to have kissed and sucked away

I did take a little mental health break and i feel a bit better, I ended up having to go through my drafts and inbox to clear out mainly the super old requests that I just had no interest in, I really really wanna open my reqs back up for new and fresh ideas but first I have to finish the ones I already have

if this flops im deleting my blog and tumblr

Daryl Dixon wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t need to be in order for you to understand him.

His body spoke for him, from shy hands resting on your hips to soft kisses trailing up your neck, Daryl never needed to voice how he felt about you, and he knew how you felt about him, but sometimes he couldn’t figure out why.

Even now, as he stands in front of the mirror with his shirt off nitpicking at each imperfection littering his skin, he still can’t figure out why.

He was nothing but a low-class hotheaded redneck from deep in the south. You were so far out of his league that it was almost unbelievable that you'd ever want someone like him. Someone as breathtakingly gorgeous and downright stunning as you stuck with someone as dirty and disgusting as him.

The skin of his body was so rough and utterly ruined, cringing at the feeling of raised scars on his chest under the tips of his blistered fingers. How could you ever feel an attraction to someone like him?

He folded his arms across his chest, growling softly as he frustratedly blinked back angry tears as he tore his eyes away from the mirror, straight up offended by the state of his own body.

You approached him from where you were watching sadly in the doorway, sliding gentle hands around his waist and feeling him jerk away from the sudden contact in his vulnerable state. He never wanted you to see him cry. Hell, at this point he didn't want you to see him at all.

“Dun' look at me” He mumbled, arms tightening around himself as a wave of self-hate washed over him once more, your touch burning against his skin.

“But I love looking at you,” You whispered softly, hands trailing up his sides and coming to a rest on one of his biceps. “I love all of you”

Daryl shook his head, hiding his face behind his hair as hot tears welled up in his eyes again. “How? Why?” He had so many questions, but none of them seemed mattered when your hands ran up his arms and gently tried to pry them from his chest.

He balled up his fists by his sides, but you stepped in front of him and brought them into your own. “Well to start, I love your hands. You just don’t know how good the hands of a hard-working man feels” You said as you kissed the palm of his hands, nuzzling your cheek against them in a cat-like manner. "So rough and ragged, but so gentle and kind"

Daryl flushed a little as your face made contact with his palm, almost reflexively hold your cheek as you held it against your skin, kissing a soft trail against his palm, moving to his wrist and down the length of his arm.

Daryl did take a lot of pride in his arms, and you knew that better than anyone, dragging your fingers along his forearm where you could feel the veins protruding, bringing the digits up to his large bicep. “I love your muscles, my big strong man who can carry me anywhere I want with your drool-worthy arms"

At that, a small smile cracked on his face, but it disappeared once your fingers made their way up and across his chest, easily becoming insecure all over again.

He brought a hand down to your waist to stop you, squeezing it as you moved your hand to his face, softly cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I call you 'handsome' as a nickname for a reason, 'cause it’s true” You whispered, staring into his sad eyes. You pressed your lips against his, and then to the side, down his neck. "You're gorgeous to me, Daryl"

You mumbled the words against his skin as you kissed and sucked your way down his neck, taking your time as you went across his collarbone, down to his rounded pecs, all the way across his chest, softly trailing over bumpy scars on his oh-so-nicely sculpted abs, slowly lowering yourself down onto your knees as you worshipped your absolute hunk of man.

"I love your whole body. So built and sturdy, big and thick," You said in a sultry tone as you glanced up at him, running a hand over his bulge and cupping it through the fabric, watching the way his face flushed a deep red all the way down to his chest. "Just so perfect"

Daryl's fingers tangled gently in your hair, almost nervous as you pressed open-mouth kisses against his now-straining cock, sucking on the growing wet patch where his tip was. A deep groan pulled itself from his throat, your lips moving against his flesh as you moved to pull his boxers down with your teeth, yanking them the rest of the way down until he was in nothing but his bare skin, putting all of him on display just for you.

You kissed his defined hipbones, wrapping your hands around thick thighs as you trailed along his v-line, peppering feather-light kisses around his pelvis and reaching the base of his cock, his pubic hairs bushy yet somewhat trimmed.

"M'not the same from when we first met" Daryl whispered, his blunt nails scratching at your scalp as you glanced up at him, shrugging a shoulder as you teased his side with your fingers. "It's called growing up, Dar. To be fair, you were quite a chubby cutie back then"

He scoffed slightly at that. "Ain't no different now, 'always been on the bigger side"

"And I love that. Makes you so warm and loveable" You smiled softly as you placed a wet kiss against his tip, running your tongue down the underside to the base, taking one of his balls into your mouth before licking your way back up to the tip, listening to the shaky moan that left his lips as his fingers curled in your hair.

You wasted no time sliding the head of his cock into your mouth, humming around him in your own form of satisfaction as you pulled back all the way to the tip, going back down all the way to the base, relaxing your throat as you nuzzled your nose in the plush of his pubes, happily inhaling his natural scent as he groaned above you, pressing his hips forward as his cock rested snuggly in your throat.

He held you steady by your hair, pulling himself back and almost completely out before sliding right back in, repeating the action as goosebumps exploded across his skin, breathing breathlessly as he practically started to hump your face.

Tiny moans pulled themselves from your chest, flickering your eyes upwards to watch the way Daryl tossed his head back and dropped it back down, his pupils blown wide and eyes lidded, cheeks flushed a cherry red as your throat squeezed around his cock, Daryl's husky breaths and grunts filling the air as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his pelvis right up against your nose.

You pulled your head back all the way until he slipped out your mouth with a wet pop, coated in slick saliva as you suckled and kissed along the underside of his length, fingers stroking through your hair as you flickered your gaze up to meet his, smearing spit along the skin of your cheek as you basically nuzzled up against his cock.

"Wha'cha doin' down there doll?" Daryl asked in his southern drawl, raspier now from your previous antics.

He brought his hand down to the base of your neck, bringing his thumb to your chin and tilting your head upwards, watching as you innocently bat your lashes kissing against his v-line. "Just loving on my man, you're so hot"

"Real funny” Daryl said from above you, his hand cupping your face as you rubbed yourself up against him in a cat-like manner.

You smiled at him, kissing along his prominent hip bones and running your lips over any scars or imperfections. “It’s true, I’d eat you alive if you let me”

At that he scoffed, “Think m’gon pass” dropping his hand from your cheek down to your waist as you gradually kissed your way back up his body, lips fluttering against the skin of his chest as you felt the bumpy and slightly rough scars decorating his torso, running your hands up his firm pecs to wrap around his neck as your lips found their way to his face, peppering his scratchy beard in kisses.

“I love you, Daryl. I want you to see the man that I see,” You whispered against the corner of his mouth, brushing a stray hair out his face as you kissed him sorrowfully. “Not the one you see in the mirror”

His grip on you tightened, and you giggled softly when he twitched against your leg, eyes low as they flickered between you and your lips. When he kissed you. it was hungry, desperate and gentle all in one, a hand settling itself back at the base of your neck.

It wasn’t long before the air in the room started to get heated, shortly realizing that Daryl was completely nude and that you were still completely dressed, pulling away from him in order to tear your shirt off, hands helping to yank down your pants along with your underwear in a quick, fluid motion, calloused hands running themselves over your tits and squeezing, feeling their way down the rest of your bare body.

“Yer fuckin’ perfect” He mumbled out as he pulled you against him, dipping his head down in order to bite at your flesh, small groans rumbling softly through him as he groped at your waist.

You spun around him and twisted his body in order to be pinned between him and the vanity, heat pooling in your stomach as he practically towered over you. “That's what I'm trying to get you to understand”

“Oh, I understand alrigh’,” Daryl spoke in a low tone, bringing his attention back down to your neck and a soft pair of tits. “Jus’ shaped like a goddamn dream”

"Don't be so kind Sir Scupluted," You exhaled with a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around the man's neck as he pressed his skin against yours, dragging a rough hand down the pane of your back and helping himself to a handful of your round butt, scoffing out a small chuckle as your words finally processed in his mind.

"Sir Scupluted?" He repeated outloud as his breath fanned over your ear, dragging his scratchy yet soft beard along the skin of your neck.

You giggled as the fine gray hairs tickled at your flesh, Daryl's hands dipping down to grope and squeeze your hips, thumbs brushing along the skin of your inner thighs. "Have you seen yourself lately?'

Daryl grunted a little when you spun around in his grasp, forcing him to reposition his hands where they now rested on your waist, his front to your back as you smiled at him through the mirror, bringing a hand up to stroke his face as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, calloused palms feeling their way around your flesh lovingly as he pressed himself against you, almost trying to hide himself behind you.

It made your heart squeeze painfully, placing your other hand on top of his and looping your fingers together, brushing curls out his face as you turned to look at him, whispering out a small "Daryl," in order to full grasp his attention, a sad frown taking over your face as his striking eyes met yours, cupping his cheek. "You are the most gorgeous boy I've ever had the honor to lay hands on. You're the sweetest thing in this whole world and there isn't a thing I'd ever want to change about you. Not your face, not your voice, not your body, not anything."

He shook his head slightly in your grip, mumbling into the crook of your neck, "Ya dun' mean-" but getting quickly cut off by you pressing a finger to his lips, bumping your forehead against his. "I do mean it. You're absolutely perfect, Daryl, that won't ever change"

You spoke the words against his lips softly, humming and cupping his face as he closed the gap between you two, kissing you desperately and needily as the love in your words rang out in his head, feeling the way his heart was totally pounding in his chest and his cock was throbbing between your bodies, hands curling into your flesh.

Daryl's lips trailed down the underside of your jaw, hungrily kissing and sucking on your skin going down your neck, biting his way to your shoulders as a big palm came up to fondle one of your tits, the other snaking down to your hip as you pushed back against him, resting your hands on the dresser as you teasingly eyed him through the mirror, moaning slightly when he started to rut himself between your slick folds.

A wave of excitement pulsed through you when a large hand gripped your shoulder right near the base of your neck, Daryl pushing the head of his cock into the hot velvetiness of your cunt, a deep groan leaving his chest as he sank all the way in, nudging his pelvis up against you.

"Love my sweet boy, always making me feel so good" You almost whined the words as you clenched around him, nibbling on your bottom lip as the hand on your shoulder moved up to your hair, fingers combing and gathering the loose strands, holding them in a hand-held ponytail, nails scratching bluntly at your scalp.

Daryl was one of the only men in your life who could really make you finish, just the stretch of his cock was enough to get your eyes rolling, setting a rhythmical pace as he started to thrust his hips, pulling himself all the way back before easily slipping back in, burying his dick in the squishiest parts of you.

He admired your face as it twisted in pleasure, watching you through the mirror as you moaned with every thrust, eyes closed in bliss. He took the chance then to admire your whole body, from your round hips striped with stretch marks, all the way up the deep arch in your back to the tops of your shoulders, teeth marks and hickies already starting to bruise purple.

It didn't stop him from dipping his head down and taking the skin into his mouth again, wanting nothing more than to make it known to the whole world that you belonged to him, and that he so rightfully belonged to you.

You turned your head slightly to the side, Daryl meeting you the rest of the way and locking his lips with yours, swallowing all your tiny sounds while letting out soft groans himself, eagerly lifting one of your legs up to get that much deeper, the feeling that took over when hearing you choke and stutter over the new angle was indescribable, solely focused on making his pretty girl cum.

Which wouldn't take much longer at all, whimpers filling the room as you tensed up in his hold, the hand that was once in your hair now protectively wrapped across your chest, helping to support your body on one leg as your fingers curled into the wood below, mouth going slightly agape as your orgasm crashed into you, Daryl fucking you through it until you were trembling and twitching, slowing his movements to chase after his own release, rocking his hips against you gently as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, flushing more when fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape, feeling your other hand squeeze his arm. "Fill me up Dar, please"

"Give ya' lots of lil' babies huh?" He mumbled against your skin, increasing the pace of his strokes as he was so close, feeling the way his orgasm tightened his balls and made his whole body hot and tingly.

You pulled him flush to your lips once more, tongues pressing and swirling around one another, tasting every little corner of his mouth happily. "Lots of them. I wanna have all your gorgeous babies"

With that, it wasn't long before Daryl's hips started to falter, a husky moan pulling itself from his chest as his cock pulsated, pumping his load into the softness of your cunt, dropping your leg back down on the ground when he pulled out with a lewd pop, instantly peppering you in kisses.

You spun back around in his arms, tossing your own around his neck and glancing at the damage you had done to his body, bites, and marks littering him from head to toe. "I love you sweetheart, I love you so much"

Daryl easily lifted you up off the ground, carrying you over to bed where he dropped down with you clinging to him, pulling the covers over both your nude bodies and squeezing you tight, so tight that it sent waves of dopamine rushing through you, heart pounding as you snuggled against your man's chest, his fingers in your hair and gently tracing shapes on your back, lips pressed to your forehead.

"Love ya' too doll, dun' know how I got so lucky" He whispered the words, and you could feel the rumble of them vibrate up close and personal, kissing right between his pecs. "Anyone would be lucky to have a man as faultless as you, but not anyone else can have my beautiful boy"

Hey everyone look!! Im about to drop another fic and then not drop for another three months!!!!!

WHOS EXCITED FOR THAAAT🤗🔥🔥

But anyway, I had plans to actually start scheduling posts but I don’t write that fast to do that so i’m just gonna throw this into the crowd and vanish again 🙏🏾‼️

also i have something against all of you who still use my tag but WHATEVERS. 🙄 A sexy bitch like me improvises (i asked daddy krys for help)

[olderthannetfic]

Do you have any idea why authors of multichaptered works INSIST on putting things like "Good news! We're about X of the way to the end folks" and "Sorry folks! I keep thinking it's almost done but then a new chapter happened and it's not going to be done as soon as I thought"? Like, are they fishing for compliments? Like, the fic is getting read. It has subscribers. Ppl are leaving comments. Do they think ppl WANT it to be over? I mean, these are writers we're talking about. So they were naturally readers first and presumably still are. So the concept of fellow readers not wanting what they enjoy to end shouldn't be such a novel concept to them! So why remind us and remind us and remind us that we're closer to the end? If the chapters are already numbered, we can see it thanks! We don't need a reminder! And if the chapters are written like "5/?" we don't WANT to know when the story is going to end! And the apologizing because there's more story? It's so unbelievably infuriating I have often just closed the tab because I was so mad I didn't want to read anything by someone so moronic (or fake-modest or fishing for compliments) anymore. So many writers seem to absolutely have no awareness or understanding or respect for the concept of a reader being immersed in a story. In published multichaptered books, you don't find little author's notes full of unfunny self-deprecating jokes and anecdotes and life updates at the start AND end of every chapter. You're immersed in the story and eagerly going from chapter to chapter. But sure, chat about anything and everything under the sun and completely break the hold your storytelling had on me! Author's notes are not a chat room. It's for stuff that affects the story or a heads up about a tag that hadn't been in the tags until that specific chapter but warrants a warning. Ugh to be honest lately I've completely stopped reading author's notes. From weird "haha see what I did there" after the most achingly written pining and temporary heartbreak scene, to smug and inane and ridiculous declarations of "X and Y switch because I believe in equality" as if it's a moral issue instead of a very real life preference for many men who sleep with men, author's notes are just idiotic most of the time. I will only read them by authors I trust, who will add a quiet few lines about the translation of a Latin phrase, or a link to pictures of a real-life place they featured in a poignant scene. Otherwise they just make me wring out my hair and who needs that. And for the crowd that LOVES to get offended: No I don't mean this is gospel. I mean this is MY experience. And since I'm clearly not one of a kind because no one is, there's bound to be others like me. So authors who WANT to keep ruining the mood they managed to craft can keep doing it -- most of their readers probably don't mind! The authors I trust though (the ones whose notes I will read, and whose notes have never ruined the mood for me) never do that anyway. But this is a heads up to those who are interested in finding out what makes SOME readers tick, because there's a first time learning about something for everyone. Thanks for letting me vent!

--

[testingforgravity]

Sparkling Water

(I'm looking through old writing snippets and found a little scene I wrote when I was planning a Jesper/Wylan fic. I'd love to pick this idea back up one day, but thought I'd share some writing here on my blog. Enjoy :) )

“You live alone?” Jesper asked, watching Wylan rummage through the fridge. There were a few photos stuck to the door with magnets; most of them were selfies of Wylan and the redhead girl he brought to the Slat the other day.

Wylan straightened up, two cans of sparkling water in his hands. Figures. Pretty boy Wylan Hendricks, the tea drinker, would keep sparkling water in his fridge. Wylan tossed one of the cans to Jesper, who caught it easily. The flavor on the can read ‘peach.’ Unbelievable.

Jesper cracked the can open nonetheless, taking a drink. Peach sparkling water was as abysmal of a flavor as he expected.

“Yeah,” Wylan answered, looking sheepish as he took a sip of his own drink. “I had a roommate last year in the dorms but… it didn’t really work out.”

Wylan looked uncomfortable, pressed up against the kitchen counter. The kitchen in his one bedroom apartment was about the size of a closet, but he seemed to be trying to put as much distance between them as possible. It hadn’t occurred to Jesper that this might be weird for Wylan, having him in his space. If he were a betting man (which he was), Jesper would bet money that Wylan didn’t host many guests.

Not that the state of his apartment was any indication. Wylan’s home was so spotless, he could give Kaz a run for his money. The kitchen counters were clear of any clutter, no water rings in sight. Jesper figured if Wylan were the type to entertain guests, he would follow them around and throw coasters under their cans of sparkling water. The image was so clear in his mind, so Wylan, that Jesper had to hold back a laugh. It made him hesitate to put his own can down, and he instead clutched it to his chest, the condensation staining his shirt.

“You don’t get lonely? Living alone?” Jesper asked. He knew if he lived alone, he would go mad. Jesper needed someone to talk to, someone to keep him from making stupid decisions late at night. Kaz wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but that didn’t matter to Jesper. Anyone was better than talking to himself.

“Not really,” Wylan said with a shrug. His voice grew quieter as he continued. “It’s better, being by myself.”

Jesper shifted, fiddling with the tab on his can. The kitchen suddenly felt too small, and Jesper realized they were teetering on serious conversation territory. Wylan had given him an opening, one a friend might take. “Yeah, no one around to contest your water flavor choices,” Jesper said with a laugh, desperate to pull the conversation back into familiar territory. “Peach? Really?”

“What’s wrong with peach?” Wylan asked, having the audacity to look offended.

“You couldn’t have picked a better flavor? Like lime? Or better yet, no flavor?”

“Where’s the fun in no flavor?”

Jesper laughed, shaking his head. Why am I not surprised? “Peach sparkling water would be your idea of fun.”

Wylan flushed, pursuing his lips. “You know what? That can is wasted on you. You can have tap water instead.”

Jesper mock gasped, feigning upset. “No, Wylan, please! Not the tap water!”

But Wylan was already filling a cup with water from the sink. Jesper stepped away from him, raising his can of sparkling water out of Wylan’s reach, but Wylan was surprisingly quick. He pushed himself off the counter and snatched Jesper’s can, replacing it with the lukewarm glass of tap water.

“I’ll appreciate this more than you,” he said, taking a swig out of Jesper’s now confiscated sparkling water can.

“Jokes on you, my mouth was on that can.”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “Please. As if that will scare me.”

Jesper felt his smirk stretch wider. It was too easy. “Want to know what else my mouth has been on?”

Wylan’s face turned as red as his hair and his lips puckered in disgust. He turned and poured the rest of the sparkling water into the sink, clearly uncomfortable. “I– well–”

“I was gonna say a can of lime sparkling water, Wylan. Didn’t know you had such a dirty mind.” To seal it, Jesper winked at Wylan and watched in satisfaction as Wylan’s blush turned a shade darker than his hair. He liked making Wylan squirm, and Wylan made it too easy. Jesper almost wished it was more of a challenge. 

[kinomiakai]

I posted 1,192 times in 2022

165 posts created (14%)

1,027 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dark-naruto

@snsmonth22

@narudoodles

@kinomiakai

@lilium-sns

I tagged 1,192 of my posts in 2022

#artbyop - 768 posts

#ep3otp - 690 posts

#canonverse - 335 posts

#textpost - 247 posts

#kinomitalks - 195 posts

#notsns - 174 posts

#notnaruto - 159 posts

#sastag - 147 posts

#writingstuff - 145 posts

#snow124-art - 122 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i also spent my whole day researching how not to be unbelievably screwed over when self publishing so that was fun and not at all depressing

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Self-Promo Saturday!!

Hey friends!! I’m trying something I’ve wanted to do for awhile today - it wasn’t that long ago that I didn’t have too many people visiting my ao3 account, and I honestly don’t know what would have happened if not for Rebuilding & the sns month event that brought a lot of you to me. So! For those of you starting out on ao3 or elsewhere, if you want a bit of a boost, reblog this post with your links and I’ll reblog them! And maybe we can all spend a bit of time checking out each others’ work :> Sound good?

This is just an informal thing, so don’t worry about your numbers or if you count as starting out or not. Just go for it, if you’d like to.

(I’ll tag all these posts with SPsat, so blacklist that if it gets too spammy for your liking 💕 )

25 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#4

I had no idea how to reply to this ask without confirming or denying so I tried out blocking the bits that might be spoilers and made the funniest blackout poem in the world

33 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

#3

Hi! You often write Sakura as a lesbian, but do you actually think she is one? I’m curious why you write her this way (to me she seems extremely straight). I hope I’m not offending you, I just really want to know your thought process?

Aw hey anon! No worries, I’m not offended at all. I’m totally open to different headcanons about characters, I know we all have our preferences. Honestly, a lot of mine boil down to the pieces of canon that speak to me, and what I find the most fun to play around with - and Sakura being a lesbian is one of those for me.

Honestly the whole break down of Ino and Sakura’s relationship I find fascinating interpreted in this way - because Sakura is totally starstruck by Ino, she’s talented and beautiful and confident and I think the line is something like “compared to her, I’m…” And then Ino seems super jealous/hurt that Sakura admits she has a crush on Sasuke, and in the same breath sort of ditches their friendship for it. So in canon I think there’s a lot of pining/angst to work with from Ino’s perspective, because she’s never even really confirmed to originally have a crush on Sasuke if I remember right? Sakura hears it as a rumour after she says she has a crush, and then is like “you know that means we’re rivals then” and it sort of seems like Ino just went “well, fuck it. okay. I’m gonna kick your ass in loving sasuke then”.

So if I’m looking at it logically, there’s probably more to saying Sakura is bi or pan than a lesbian, but Sasuke as an object of affection is so,,,,safe. He doesn’t show any romantic inclination, he pretty much rejects all relationships in general, doubly so after the massacre, so it sort of reads, to me, like she picked a safe target to seem straight. And then I love your language, because she is totally extreme with it. She is SO straight. She is The Straightest. And that has me a little like hmm. Okay missy. Sure thing.

But I do really see some attraction to females in there, largely because of the way she talks about Ino reaaaallllyyy reads the same way I used to think about girls I had a crush on before I knew anything about myself lol. I’m not gay, they’re just amazing! Look at how beautiful and smart and out of my league they are, I just want to be like them! I want to be as good as they are, that’s what this is! Narrator: it was not.

So a bit of bias, a bit of fun, & a bit of liking the relationship & how it parallels to SNS (although it is very different). Hope that makes sense anon!! Thanks for the ask :>

38 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

#2

Next Bite Me Chapter Up!

Ch5 time!!

54 notes - Posted December 31, 2021

My #1 post of 2022

Happy SNS month, friends!!

I’ll be participating in my own little way, whenever I can! I’ll update this when I do :> Here are the prompts & announcement post if you need them!

Day One: Cuddling or Rivalry

101 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[somnambulants]

omg i think it’s considered a little bit of a pride mont hate crime that you don’t have MORE nat fics 🥺 so hehehe how about i request some pouty jealous!nat?

Notes: omg thank u! happy pride 💛 this went super off topic BUT i hope you still like it! jealous!nat is my new favorite thing. 

Summary: Natasha may have a little bit of jealous streak. You discover you don’t mind. Word count: 3.8K

You are not a jealous person.

That’s not to say that you aren’t prone to bouts of insecurity, you definitely are, and especially at the beginning of your relationship with Natasha. For the first few months after you’d begun dating, you’d been on edge the entire time; in a constant state of wondering, agonising, for the day she’d finally realise you weren’t good enough for her and up and leave.

Through all of that, you’d never given a lot of thought to whether your girlfriend is the jealous type. Mostly because Natasha is the most beautiful person you’d ever seen but also because it’s not like she would ever have a reason to be jealous; the minute you’d met, you had never so much as wanted to look at another person.

The thought never crossed your mind. It was laughable to you.

As unbelievable of an idea as it is, you’ve been together for just a few months when it slowly begins to dawn on you that you may not be the jealous type, but Natasha most definitely is.

--

In all – although admittedly, there weren’t a lot – of her relationships, Natasha has never cared enough to worry about being jealous over a significant other. 

This is why the visceral reaction she has to watching people flirt with you comes as such a surprise to her.

The first time it happens, you’d only just begun dating and were at one of the many events the avengers were required to attend. Still wanting to stay as low-key as possible, you’d both privately agreed to not spend the night attached to one another. 

Something Natasha is now beginning to regret. Immensely.

Currently, you’re across the room, talking to a woman Natasha vaguely recognises as a reporter and all she can focus on is the way the woman is looking at you. 

It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up because Natasha knows that look; has given you that look many times over the course of your relationship – a hungry, I want you right now, kind of look.

“Nat!”

Steve suddenly materialises beside her and the fact that she didn’t see him coming is evidence of how distracted she is. It makes her scowl even harder. Taking in her expression, he all of a sudden looks like he’s trying not to laugh as he follows her gaze to where you were standing. “You feeling okay? You’re looking a little…green.”

She resists the urge to kick him in the stomach. “Bite me, Rogers.”

He snickers and starts to say something else, but whatever it is, it’s lost on her as the sound of your voice across the room acts as a honing beacon and regains her attention immediately.

She watches, grip tightening around her drink, as you throw your head back, laughing at some joke the woman must’ve made. Seeing this as a green light, the woman leans in, brushing a lone piece of hair over your shoulder. 

It doesn’t matter that Natasha can see how your spine immediately straightens up, or how you step back to widen the gap between you and your admirer.It doesn’t matter that you very clearly don’t return the attention being given to you. 

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters because all Natasha can see and feel is red. If she had the ability to burn people with her eyes, that woman would have been incinerated on the spot. There wouldn’t even be tiny little dust particles left behind.

In the midst of her rage, she doesn’t even register the glass in her hand shattering until she’s covered in glass and red wine and there’s blood running down her wrist.

The sound of the glass breaking makes a good portion of the room’s occupants turn around to stare, you included. Instantly, you’re at her side, cradling her hand between your own.

“What happened?”

In its current state, Natasha’s brain seems to be lacking its usual quick thinking, and she just stares at you dumbly for a second until she spots the reporter you’d been talking to skulking in the background, watching with a petulant look on her face, evidently irritated by the interruption and the white-hot rage comes flooding back even more ferocious than before.

God, that insipid woman is lucky this event was specified no weapons allowed because if Natasha had a gun right now, she --

“--Natasha?”

You’re looking at her with worry in your eyes and as much as she’d love to go ‘accidentally’ push that woman off the edge of this very tall building’s balcony to a very certain death, she feels her insides soften into mush as they often do when you’re around.

“I’m fine,” she says. “Accident.”

It’s a flimsy excuse and one that wouldn’t fly on a normal day, especially not with you. She watches you purse your lips, giving her a doubtful look but you seem to make the decision to let it go as you lead her out of the room with the intent to find something to clean her up with.

--

You may not be a trained spy or even the most perceptive person on your best day, but you can still sense it when something is up – especially with Natasha. After the party, you’d had an inkling that maybe your girlfriend wasn’t telling you the whole truth and that something else was actually going on but after seeing the look in her eye, you hadn’t pushed her.

In spite of her unwillingness to share, a few weeks later your inkling is confirmed.

“I’ll order this time,” you yell over the loud music at the bar you were currently at. It was not your scene at all – or Natasha’s but Carol had recommended it on her last trip back to this earth and after a long, long week, you’d both agreed you deserved a night out, away from avengers’ duties and this is where you’d ended up.

Natasha gives you a nod and you stand, only having to wait at the bar for a few seconds before the bartender makes a b-line for you, ignoring the grumbles from the patrons that had been clearly waiting a lot longer than you.

“What can I get you?”

You recite Natasha’s drink, then your own and the bartender makes them with record speed. When you try to hand her the bill to pay, she waves her hand dismissively and gives you a grin. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t –“

The bartender, who you now realise is quite pretty, runs a finger along the back of your hand and gives you a wink that is definitely more flirty than friendly. “Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”

You sigh in defeat, giving her a smile in thanks and turn back around, making your way back to your table in the corner of the room where your girlfriend is still sitting but now with a face like thunder. 

To anyone else, Natasha would probably look neutral but to you – well, you can see the irritated look in her eye and the slight crease between her brows and you know she’s pissed.

In the future, you’d look back and want to slap yourself for not seeing it straight away but in the present it just makes you a little worried.

“Everything okay?” you ask, setting the drinks down on the table. You think about all the possibilities of what could’ve happened in the short time you’d been gone and try not to panic. “Did something –"

“No,” Natasha says and then seems to realise the sharpness in her voice because her face softens in apology. She leans over to give you a quick kiss and it makes you relax slightly. “Everything’s fine.”

Comprehension starts to trickle in when she scoots over so she can wrap an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, and when you follow her line of sight, you realise she’s glaring over your head at the bartender, who pales immediately and doesn’t so much as look in your direction again.

Oh, you feel your eyes widen as it finally hits you: oH.

You look down into your drink and try to hide your disbelieving smile as you finally understand: she’s jealous. 

If it were anyone else, you think you probably wouldn’t feel like this – would likely be outright irritated and a little offended at the behaviour -- but with Natasha you can’t help but find it kind of … cute.

A little giddily, you lean over to press a kiss to her jaw and feel her relax a little against you. “Wanna go after this one?”

Natasha’s face doesn’t change but you see a little shift in her eyes as she nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this one a little more heated – for your benefit or the bartenders, you don’t know, and don’t particularly mind either way as you let yourself get lost in it.

--

After that night, it becomes so apparent to you and you don’t know how you’d missed it all this time. It happens all the time. All. The. Time.

On the street, if someone so much as glances your way, she’s already staring back at them with an expression that would be terrifying even to you if she directed it your way.

At work one day one of the new recruits, a kid, really, comes up to you and asks you, voice trembling if you’d let him take you out someday and the next day Natasha knocks him on his ass so hard and so many times that you’re kind of surprised – and a little impressed—that the poor kid doesn’t quit right on the spot.

Even in your apartment building, one of your maybe-slightly too friendly neighbours gets similar treatment in the elevator one night when you and Natasha are returning to the building at the same time as her. 

Just as you enter the elevator, you hear the voice of your neighbour calling out.

“Hold the door!”

Panting, your neighbour enters the small space. “Thank you so much, I have had the worst, oh –” her eyes land on Natasha beside you and she looks at her with something you can’t quite place in her eyes. “Who’s your …friend?”

“Oh!” you exclaim and you know you must sound surprised. Was it not obvious from how Natasha was always here that you were dating? “This is Natasha. My girlfriend. Nat, this is Charlotte, my neighbour.”

You can see Natasha in the reflection of the elevator walls, so you see the smug self-satisfied look she gives your neighbour as she wraps an arm around you possessively.

So, yes while you notice it all now, you still don’t say anything because a small – and by small, you mean large, massive actually – part of you kind of likes it; likes the fact that the Natasha Romanoff, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life is somehow yours and even more unbelievably, somehow she thinks you’re worth getting worked up like that over.

--

At this point, you’ve been dating for over a year and somehow it must’ve slipped the memo to let all of the avengers know because somehow every time you’re at the office, it seems like a new person is finding out about your relationship. 

It’s really hard to keep up with everyone and their individual missions, which is how you find yourself in your current predicament.

“--ah, well-well,” a familiar voice calls out and you look up from the report you’d been studying. “If it isn’t the most attractive and coincidentally my favourite honorary avenger.”

In the doorway of your office, Sam is grinning at you in that playful, flirty but also joking kind of way that’s distinctly Sam Wilson. You grin back and stand to let him pull you into a hug.

“Did you just get back?” you ask, vaguely remembering him telling you he was going on a mission at least six months ago. You think it was in Istanbul, but you can’t quite remember the specifics. 

Sam pulls back and goes to open his mouth but doesn’t get the chance to speak as Natasha appears in the doorway.

“Samuel,” she drawls his name, eyeing his arm around you. She visibly brightens up when she looks at you, though. “Y/N”

You can’t see yourself, but you know your face must light up as your eyes land on her by the sudden realisation that crosses Sam’s face. The casual kiss she drops on your cheek comes as confirmation.

His mouth drops open as he looks between you both. “Oh damn, you two?” he asks, smiling genuinely. “Damn!”

To the naked eye, Natasha doesn’t seem amused by his revelation, but you know her well enough by now to be able to spot the glimmer of humour in her eyes. 

Sam, however, doesn’t seem to be adept at reading her as you are and so when she advances a little closer, his eyes widen and he immediately backs away.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” he exclaims, hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry!”

The expression on Natasha’s face turns sinister in nature. You watch and try not to laugh at her theatrics, attempting to adopt a sympathetic expression when he desperately looks to you for help.

“Well,” Natasha says, faux-friendly. As she passes by him, she gives him what looks like a bone-shatteringly hard arm squeeze – if the pained expression on Sam’s face is any indication -- and comes to stand beside your desk. “Now you know, buddy.”

“That I do,” he says, backing up until he reaches the door. “Anyways, I gotta, uh –"

Not even finishing his sentence, he high-tails it out of the room so fast you barely see him leave. You turn to Natasha with a frown. She looks back at you innocently, but you catch the way her lip twitches a little bit before she breaks into a full blown smirk.

“You’re going to give someone have a heart attack one day, you know,” you say, half-serious. “I’m kind of surprised you haven’t already.”

Unbothered, Natasha shrugs and reaches out to tug you closer to her in order to kiss you, a little more intensely than you would normally allow at work. You melt into it with a sigh, smiling a little. 

Eventually, you have to pull away when you start to struggle to breathe and your head starts spinning. Natasha makes an unhappy sound, trying to follow, but you stand firm.

“Nope, you’ve got to go before I’m the one that has the heart attack.”

With a pout, she gives you one more kiss before she gives into your request.

--

You’ve never seen Natasha drunk before – hadn’t even thought she could get drunk but tonight she’s definitely wasted -- all thanks to Thor and whatever is in the mead he’d bought with him.

One thing you quickly realise about drunk Natasha is drunk Natasha also means confrontational Natasha.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about –”

Her and Tony are almost nose to nose at this point, about ten minutes into what was now a heated conversation, and you’re kind of wondering if either of them even knows what they’re arguing about. You don’t think so and by the looks on the other avengers faces, they seem to have as much of an idea as you do.

As Natasha and Tony continue to argue, you look to your left and the young waiter who’d been hovering by your table a little too attentively all night is immediately by your side. 

So Natasha can’t see you, you quickly mouth the word water to him and thankfully he seems to understand because he gives you a quick nod and then disappears, reappearing just as swiftly with a glass in his hand.

“Here, Miss –"

“No!” Ending her argument with Tony as abruptly as it began, Natasha jabs a finger at the waiter, who looks to you for help while she glares up at him balefully. 

The poor guy looks terrified, so you quickly intervene, touching Natasha’s knee to bring her attention back to you. It does the trick, but she seems to underestimate how close in proximity you already are and she ends up half in your lap to the delight of the other avengers in attendance, who all let out various different whistles.

“Mine,” she says childishly into the crook of your arm. You only just manage to pick it up so you know you must be the only person who heard her. With your help, she sits up a little and makes eye contact with you as she repeats herself, more seriously, as if you hadn’t understood the first time: “mine.”

“I – oh --okay,” you say, grabbing her hand as it starts to creep a little too low to be polite in your current company. “How about we get you home?”

After hurriedly saying your goodbyes, twenty minutes later you park in your driveway and begin the not-so-small feat of getting her inside.

“Damn,” you grunt a little under her weight as you help her up the stairs to your apartment. “What do they put into that Asgardian mead?”

You make a mental note to ask Thor about it and then promptly forget as you reach your front door and fumble around, looking for your keys. 

Even in her inebriated state, Natasha somehow pulls herself together enough to reach into your bag and pull them put for you so you can unlock the door.

Which she promptly falls through. You just manage to catch her before she hits the floor, and she leans against you, burying her face into your neck.

“Come on,” you order gently, softening as she groans into your skin. “Bed.”

“No.”

As if to emphasise the word, Natasha shakes her head, but to your surprise, she starts to make her way to your bedroom anyway. She’s still a little unsteady on her feet but nothing like you’d be if you’d drank as much as she had. If it were you, you would definitely have been comatose about seven shots and multiple hours ago.

“Alright, you get into bed,” you say. “And I’ll get you some water, okay?”

Natasha scowls. “No,” she says. You bite your lip to hold in your laugh at the petulance you hear in her voice, shadowing her to the bed, where she immediately sits down and attempts multiple times to take off her heels with little success.

“No?”

Finally having enough of watching her struggle, you lean down and undo the straps of her heels, gently pulling them off her feet. You watch as she flops back on the bed and then covers her face dramatically with a groan. “You don’t get it,” she says unsteadily.

“I don’t get what?”

“You’re mine,” she repeats her earlier words, uncovering her eyes to look at you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Am I now?”

You thought you’d managed to cover your amusement pretty well until you see the glare she shoots you that says she can see it loud and clear. After a beat of silence it becomes clear she’s not going to say anything else.

With difficulty, you slowly manage to get her into a sitting position and help her out of her dress, pulling the covers up around her and retrieving a glass of water that you place on her nightstand so she can drink it in the morning.

You then change yourself and go the bathroom to remove what makeup you’d had on. To your surprise, she’s still awake when you emerge, half-propped up against the headboard and looking at you with bleary, unfocused eyes. It makes your heart turn to mush immediately and you get into bed beside her as quickly as your feet allow.

She immediately curls up into you and you wrap an arm around her, pulling her as close to you as humanly possible. 

“I am yours, just so you know.”

There’s a second of silence where you start to think that maybe she’s fallen asleep, until she shifts against you to meet your gaze, looking a little more alert and coherent but still out of it.

“Good,” she says softly.

The next morning, you wake before Natasha and slip out of bed to make her coffee and to find some pain killers, having a gut feeling she’ll probably need them. Your feeling turns out to be right. When you re-enter the bedroom, she’s laying face-down but clearly awake by the muffled groaning you can hear coming from her.

“Whys’it so bright,” she mumbles into the mattress as you approach the bed, turning her head ever so slightly so she can meet your eyes. You grin down at her.

“Ah, it awakens.”

She scowls up at you and you laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek as you slide back into bed, careful not to jostle her too much. She leans her head against your leg, slowly sipping the glass of water you’d left for her last night before reaching for the coffee on the nightstand.

You fall into a comfortable silence; you running your hand through her hair as she drinks her coffee, humming contentedly.

“How are you feeling –"

“I don’t like it when people look at you,” she interrupts suddenly, staring down into her coffee mug and sounding uncharacteristically nervous. You freeze but since she’s not looking at you, she doesn’t seem to notice. “But it’s not because of anything you do. I just don’t … like it.”

“Okay?” you hedge cautiously, not really understanding.

“I’m sorry if it bothers you,” she says. “Me. Being like that. I didn’t know I was even the type to –"

“It doesn’t bother me.”

At your quick interjection, she looks at you for the first time and whatever she sees on your face makes her smile faintly. “It doesn’t?”

You bite your lip. “Not at all.”

She mirrors you, now smirking. “Oh.”

After this, it starts to become a game: one you feel like you win every time.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

I’m really interested in the idea behind your username, though I must admit I was a bit offended at first- being Muslim and all, but I would really like to know more!

Have you always been anti-religion?

If not, we’re you religious as a child and did that experience in any way shape your beliefs today?

Do you think the institution of major and widespread religions actually affects peoples mental health and, if so, do you think anything will ever be done to combat this issue?

Sorry this is so lengthy, but I’d really appreciate if you’d get back to me!

-Thanks, a conflicted believer

Hi, the crux of my blog is probably better described by the subtitle, which is "Faith is a cognitive sickness."

This saying came from a discussion by Peter Boghossian. The point of what he's saying is that faith is not a pathway to truth, and that adherence to, and justification by, faith prevents learning.

Over time I've found that faith can be identified in more than simply traditional religions. It can be found in movements (e.g. Woke), and in other beliefs such as Flat Earth, alien abduction and anti-vax.

You can read a summation of my background here. I've never really been a believer in any religion, and I would regard myself as being dismissive of religion, and anti-faith. I found what I grew up around to be completely unbelievable, and indistinguishable from any average Grimms or Hans Christian Andersen fairytale. And I've found that is even more true as time as gone on, as I've discovered more about the various faith beliefs that I've come across.

They're absurd, often incoherent, and the only reliable reasons people believe them seem to be that: they were taught that they're true from birth (indoctrination); and that they were sold those beliefs as a solution to their problems at a vulnerable point in their life (snake oil).

There's nothing that someone can't believe based on faith alone. No belief, no matter how bizarre or despicable, can't be defended by simply saying "I just have faith" and expecting that to be sufficient. Except it's not. "I just have faith" is an admission, not an explanation. It means you can't justify your belief, but you'll continue to believe anyway.

Every believer says that they have "faith". But all beliefs can't be true. It's impossible, for example, for Islam and Mormonism to both be true. But there is no way for anyone to figure out what is true.

Faith is unfalsifiable and indefeasible. Believers simply assert their faith tradition is true, and insist everyone else is wrong, but nobody can do the work of substantiating that their thing is uniquely true in comparison to all the others. Every "proof" is based on fallacies, presupposition and is held to a different standard than a "proof" offered by someone of a different faith. Xians will not be convinced by the "proofs" Muslims find indisputable, and vice versa.

If true beliefs and false beliefs are indistinguishable, then faith is not a reliable way to discover truth. Particularly when "faith" prevents correction. It's okay to have believed something that wasn't true - people make mistakes - but you must be able to then correct that. And "faith" prevents identifying the mistake and therefore correcting it.

"Faith is a cognitive sickness" summarizes all this, in that believing things based on faith damages cognition, which is the process of acquiring knowledge and understanding. Basically, how you know what's true (epistemology). What you say is true is less important than how you know it's true, and just as importantly, how you could be wrong, and how you can show you're not.

The fact that faith cannot be dislodged, and is proud about its unreasonableness makes faith the mental equivalent of that hobbling scene from the movie Misery. People have crippled their ability to find out what's true.

And even worse in many cases. A common complaint I get is that it's "rude" or even "hateful" to criticize religions and faith-based beliefs, because people find them comforting or gives them meaning. What they're saying is not only that their ability to discover what's true has been damaged, but they don't even care what's true, only what makes them feel good. They're engaging in delusion.

This is devastating to humanity.

A faith-based certainty that a god will save you from the coronavirus has encouraged countless congregations to take risks that cost lives. A faith-based belief that god will cure a child's illness encourages parents to avoid valid medical treatments in favor of faith. Or even kill the child in the certainty that they'd be delivered to god. A certainty that an afterlife awaits makes this life cheap and meaningless; if an eternal paradise awaits, why put any consideration into this dirty, brief, temporary little prologue?

Navigating our world, looking after ourselves, each other and the planet itself requires an accurate understanding.

Relying on "faith" is a recipe for disaster.

Religion absolutely affects mental health. I cannot even begin to convey how absolutely devastating it is. You can find many different people in my Asks who have told me about some appalling behavior of their parents, or a teacher, or how messed up they were when they were leaving their religion, how it diminished their self esteem, and even celebrated or worthless they are. "I am nothing without god", a Xian claim to humility and piety is psychologically poison. To think that a real person is worthless, while an undetectable, immaterial being for which no verifiable substantiation exists, to the point of needing to be held entirely by "faith" alone, provides 100% of human meaning is toxic beyond measure.

And let's not forget my most recent Ask - the one just before you, that is - which proudly declared...

lol retard. see you in hell faggot.

... to a complete stranger, telling people they deserve, and will get, eternal torture and feel good doing so.

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/tagged/self%20esteem

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/tagged/abusive%20relationship

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/tagged/recovering%20from%20religion

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/tagged/god%20is%20an%20abuser

There's fear of hell, unearned shame, sexual repression, guilt, the omnipresent monitoring of e being who sees you while you're sleeping, knows when you're awake, knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. You can never escape this being, and yet, it will not reliably respond to your pleas -- any more than mere chance. And if it doesn't then you must deserve it.

When really, you can simply realize that this being was never there to begin with.

There is a recognized phenomenon called Religious Trauma Syndrome, which has features that resemble other traumatic experiences (e.g. parental abuse); Marlene Winell is pretty much the authority on this. Steven Hassan has constructed the BITE Model of Authoritarian control, and much of what passes for religious virtue can be found on this model.

https://journeyfree.org/rts/

https://freedomofmind.com/cult-mind-control/bite-model/

There are two particular podcasts I'm aware of that go into the aftermath of coming out of religion:

https://www.thelifeafter.org

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast

The Born Again Again Podcast also has a "Your Stories" page where people have written to them about their own experiences leaving religion, and they've done multiple episodes which dealt with how religion messed up their ability to think and reason, and the work they've had to do to undo all that.

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-03-is-my-relationship-with-god-abusive

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-05-god-is-love

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-14-christianity-warped-our-brains

Both The Life After and Born Again Again are specifically about leaving Xianity. I'm not aware of any comparable ones about leaving Islam. However, you may find some elements ring true for you. You might consider perusing these links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/exmuslim/

https://exmuslims.org/

Even if you're conflicted and uncertain, find out what some people who've left have to say. Why they left, what life is like after faith, and what process they went through to recover.

Even if you decide that you do still believe, it will (hopefully) give you a better idea and better respect for the fact that they don’t.

[fics-n-stuff]

Home - Pt 2

For @glowstick-lesbian, request here

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary: After Y/N finally gets out hiding, it's time to sit down with Kaz and talk through whatever it is that's going on between them.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Brief talk of Jordie and Kaz's trauma and touch aversion

A/N: Wow this ended up being longer than I intended! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, I was focused on The Bastard's Shadow and Affluenza pts1 + 2, and then I started picking up more shifts at work and got writers block at the same time. I really hope you like how it turned out!! ❤❤

Pt1 here

After the very enlightening visit from Kaz, the days seemed to drag on even slower than before. The next two months went by in a crawl, and no matter how much you buried yourself in work you couldn’t distract from the longing you felt to get out of your apartment.

When your messenger came to deliver the news that your pursuers were willing to come to a truce you had been so happy that you’d gone straight to pour yourself a glass of whisky to celebrate. From then, you counted down the days until the meeting that you set up, the result of which should mean that you were free to roam the city again.

Inej had shown you how to get out of the window and onto the roof months ago. It was your escape route in case of an emergency, but you had used it every now and then just to sit on the roof and enjoy a taste of the outside world. That night, you had climbed out with intention and dressed in your finest coat.

You travelled over the rooftops towards the Government district, where your meeting had been arranged to take place near the Stadhall. The presence of the stadwatch would serve to protect you in case the deal went south.

You had been jittery with a mix of anxiety and excitement when you descended to street level and wended your way through the streets to find three men waiting for you at the Stadhall, all of them tall, broad and commanding. Barrel businessmen that you had crossed one too many times, and no doubt they had been angered that forcing you into hiding hadn’t put a stop to your business.

You were too smart to have not found a way around it; you had to be to run the business that you did. You owned three boarding houses and two bars in the Barrel and two ships that brought in imports from Ravka and Novyi Zem, a squaller as a permanent fixture on the crew of each to whom you paid a fair salary. You’d had Kaz put them under the protection of the Dregs to keep them safe from slavers. On top of all of that, you used your contacts in Ravka, Novyi Zem and other parts of Kerch to help get kids out of the Barrel and into honest work elsewhere. You might operate from the criminal underbelly of Ketterdam, but you made a mostly honest living.

The meeting took longer than you had anticipated. The three men were eager to negotiate territories that you couldn’t conduct business in and items that they didn’t want you to import because it was cutting into their own business. You held firm, you knew what was fair and you would be damned if you let anyone bully you into submission.

In the end, you essentially just agreed not to get in their way, which was easy enough to do. You wouldn’t actively compete with them in the sale of imported goods, and you wouldn’t try to convince any of the lads that they used as runners and grunts to get out of the Barrel. As long as you kept your distance from them you’d be fine, since they were clearly tired of chasing after you.

“Alright then, the deal is the deal.” You said, holding out your hand. All three shook hands with you in turn, echoing the phrase as was customary. When the man in the middle – clearly the leader and the last to shake with you – took your hand, you tightened your grip and leaned forward. “If you try to cheat me after this deal, you will have Dirtyhands to answer to.” You said lowly. He tried not to show his reaction but the fear in his eyes betrayed him, and you released his hand. It wasn’t often that you involved Kaz and his reputation in your affairs, but sometimes it paid to be friends with the most ruthless man in Ketterdam.

You left the meeting with your head held high and took a gondel back to the Barrel. You were approached by a few people who stayed in one of your boarding houses or drank in one of your bars on your walk to the Crow Club, telling you that they had been curious or worried about having not seen you around for so long. You didn’t engage in any conversation beyond polite acknowledgment, too eager to get to the Crow Club.

Inej was the only one that knew that you were getting out tonight. You had told her when she had come to deliver your food for the week and she had promised to try and keep everyone corralled at the Crow Club so that you could make a big entrance, but the later it got the less likely it was that she could keep them all there without raising suspicion.

You practically ran down the last street towards the Crow Club, bursting through the open door and searching the crowd for your friends. Jesper caught sight of you at the same moment that you spotted them all at the bar, and you saw his jaw drop in shock. A huge grin spread on your face as he set his drink down, his sudden change in demeanor getting the attention of the rest of the group and causing them to turn to follow his gaze.

“Y/N?” Jesper called, prompting you into as much of a sprint as you could manage across the crowded floor of the gambling hall. You vaulted yourself into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his lanky frame. “You’re back! How?” He exclaimed, and you laughed as you felt him hug you back and sweep you off of your feet.

“I had a meeting to call a truce. As of tonight I am a free person!”

“We missed you so much!” Nina grinned, prying Jesper’s arms off of you so that she could pull into a hug herself. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were finally coming out of hiding?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You grinned, pulling away so that you could move to hug Wylan next. “I missed you guys so much too, you have no idea.” You caught sight of Kaz over Wylan’s shoulder, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. You pointed your smile at him and his lips twitched upwards before he cooled his expression and gave you a simple nod.

Your reunion was spirited to say the least, even Matthias couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were back. You made them tell you about all of the most significant things that you had missed in the year that you had been trapped inside and update you on any power shifts between the Barrel gangs. Jesper wouldn’t shut up, Wylan was excited to tell you about all of the new explosives and weapons that he had developed, and Nina was making a list of places that she wanted to get lunch together to make up for lost time. It felt amazing to be with them all again.

“Okay! I want to play a few hands of Three Man Bramble before I go.” You announced, pushing your glass away from you after downing the last of its contents.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Jesper grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder and guiding you to a table.

It seemed apt that fortune seemed to be in your favour, winning so consistently that you continued to play even though you knew that you shouldn’t. It felt like every time that you looked up from the table you caught Kaz watching you, and his unashamed gaze made your heart flutter.

After a while you saw him give a slight nod towards the door, an action that meant that it was time to go, and you tucked you lip between you teeth as you gave a subtle nod back and turned your attention back to your cards.

“Unbelievable!” Jesper exclaimed upon seeing that you had won again. “I guess you’re catching up on a year’s worth of luck.”

“Perhaps, but I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.” You smiled, gathering up your winnings. “I need to go and breathe some more fresh air.” You pocketed half of your winnings and pushed the other half around the table to Jesper. “Not too much fun.”

“There’s no such thing as too much fun.” He beamed and pulled you to him so that he could plant a kiss on your cheek. “Good to have you back, Y/N.”

“Good to be back, Jes.” You winked before bounding back to the bar to say goodbye to the rest of your friends. Kaz had already disappeared, no doubt in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to the fact that you were leaving together.

“We’re going to get waffles tomorrow. I will break your door down if I have to.” Nina asserted, practically crushing your ribs in a hug. “Inej, you’re coming too.”

“What about me?” Wylan pouted, and you laughed.

“Everyone’s invited.” You replied, holding his face and turning it towards you so that you could press a soft kiss on his forehead before pulling him in for a hug. “I just got out, I want to spend time with you all!”

You kept your hug with Inej pretty short, considerate of the bad feelings that too much contact could stir up in her, and even managed to coax a hug from Matthias before you headed out. Kaz was waiting not far from the entrance and you smiled as you quickly made your way towards him

“Hey.” You chirped.

“You wanted it to be a surprise, huh?” He questioned, starting towards the Slat. You chuckled.

“I know you’re not a big fan of surprises, Kaz, but I thought this might be a fun one. Why? Were you offended that I told Inej and not you?”

“Did you have anyone go with you to your meeting?”

“No, I didn’t need any backup.”

“Things could have gone badly, and you didn’t tell anyone about it.”

“Well things didn’t go badly.” You rebutted. “I’m here, I’m fine, and I surprised you all.”

“You shouldn’t put yourself in danger like that.” Kaz said flatly, ignoring your point, and you groaned loudly at his stubbornness.

“If it makes you feel better, I made sure to drop your name in to intimidate them. But I can handle my own business.”

You hopped along the cobblestones playfully, irrationally happy to be back out on the filthy and foul smelling streets of the Barrel, but even the stink couldn’t dampen your joy at finally being free. You were sure that you and Kaz probably looked like a bizarre pair walking together now, him with his stoic exterior and identifying limp next to your childlike joy, though you had taken after him fashion wise with your smart attire and well-fitted, black coat.

Walking back to the Slat with Kaz took you in the opposite direction to your home – now that you were out of hiding you could finally return to where you actually lived in a house on the boundary of East Stave and the Zelver District – but you wanted to talk to Kaz, and he wouldn’t have asked you to leave with him if he didn’t want to talk to you too. Nevertheless, you continued the rest of the walk in silence.

When you got to the Slat, Kaz continued straight up to his room while you lingered on the ground floor to say hello to some of the Dregs that you were more friendly with. The noise of the Slat was unfamiliar to you after so long, but you had kind of missed the rowdiness of it.

You followed upstairs shortly after. Kaz had left his door ajar for you and you could see him sat at his desk through the opening.

“Shut the door behind you.” He said as you slipped inside, and you heard the door click as you push it shut after yourself.

“You wanna talk to me?” You questioned, walking over to lean on the side of the desk casually. “Or did you just want some time to look at my gorgeous face?” He did look up at you then, his eyes darting around to take in the entirety of your face, and you felt your heart flutter.

“How did your meeting go? What deals did you make?” He asked. You sighed. It wasn’t new that Kaz was asking about your business, he liked to know about what you were doing the same way that he liked to know about literally everything else, but you had hoped that this conversation would be a little less mundane than that. You had hoped that he might express an iota of joy that you were back.

“I can’t dock my ships in 3rd Harbour anymore.” You shrugged. “So I’ll stick to 2nd for imports going into the morning market, mostly 5th for everything else. There’s a few streets that I need to keep my business off of, and obviously I can’t try and undermine their operations anymore. That doesn’t mean that I won’t, it just means that I’ll be smarter about not getting caught.”

“And what do you get from them?”

“They leave me alone. I don’t need more than that. I mean, their terms are hardly going to impede my business anyway.”

“And your insurance?”

“You.” You smiled sweetly. “Very few people are bold enough to cross someone that has Kaz Brekker on side.”

“I thought you prided yourself on running an honest business.”

“I do. My association with you doesn’t make my business any less legit. I’m more honest than most of the Merchant Council anyway.”

“That’s fair.” He conceded with a slight nod.

Kaz had visited you a few times since the night that you had both let on about how much you cared about each other, but you hadn’t talked about it. It felt like the tension between you had been building and building like an elastic band ready to snap. It was driving you crazy.

“Anything else that you want to talk about?” You hinted. Kaz let out a long breath, his eyes sliding away from you for a moment. You could tell that he wanted to talk about it but he was struggling to get it out. “Because you haven’t told me that you’re glad I’m back yet.”

“I am glad that you’re back.” He affirmed, then he took a hard swallow. “We all missed you.” You smiled brightly at that.

You could hear the crows moving around on the half-roof outside of Kaz’s window and crossed the room to perch on the windowsill. There hadn’t been anywhere for the birds to land in the apartment that you had been cooped up in.

“Can I stay here for a while? I don’t want to be alone again just yet.” You said softly, tucking one knee up against your chest as you watched the birds through the glass.

“Sure.” Kaz answered.

You sat in silence for a while after that, which wasn’t unusual for you two. Before you had gone into hiding, you had spent many evenings with Kaz in his office just like this. Tonight felt different though. Something had opened between the two of you and now you couldn’t close it. The feeling permeated every corner of the room until you felt like you might explode if you didn’t break this silence, but, to your surprise, Kaz spoke first.

“I’ve been thinking about that day that I saw you outside the Crow Club.”

“Why?” You asked, blinking in surprise. Kaz was still facing forward at his desk, back turned to you, but his pen had stilled over the page.

“I watched you for a while, deciding whether to chase you off or recruit you for the Dregs.” He continued, ignoring your question. You were used to that too. “You were good at pickpocketing – you could spot a good mark, distracted them by pretending to beg for pennies – but you stayed in one place for too long.”

“I know, you told me at the time.” You smiled amusedly.

“I was just planning on telling you exactly that, but after I got your attention and you looked at me I knew that I had seen you before. It was in your eyes.” He turned around to look at you then, his gaze finding yours immediately. “Your eyes never changed.”

Kaz’s eyes had. Maybe that was why you hadn’t recognised him. Kaz Rietveld had eyes full of wonder and warmth, that were curious about everything and shone when he was happy. Kaz Brekker's eyes were cold, they held secrets. The curiosity had become analytical, and the shine had turned into a devious glint. Kaz Rietveld didn’t exist anymore, the R tattoo on Kaz’s bicep was the only relic of him, and you were the only one left to remember him.

“Crows remember the faces of those that are kind.” He finished softly.

“And that’s why you took me in? Because I was kind?”

“Because we were friends. We are friends.”

“Just friends?” You murmured, a challenge in your eyes. It wasn’t a provoking challenge, more of an encouraging one. You wanted to know where he stood and you wanted him to be able to tell you. He was silent for a long stretch.

“Would we ever be able to be more?” He asked. You knew what he meant. Kaz had built up so many walls that he didn’t know how to let down, and he knew that about himself. It was how he had survived, but it was a way of being that wasn’t very conducive to relationships. He didn’t think that he could do it.

“That depends on you.” You answered with a soft smile. “Because I’m not looking anywhere else.” Kaz swallowed and looked away quickly, but you swore that you had seen a hint of a blush in his cheeks.

A knock came at the door, and you cursed whoever was on the other side in your head.

“What is it?” Kaz called.

“There’s a man downstairs says he has a job for you.” Specht’s voice came through the wood. “Won’t talk to no one else but you.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Kaz replied, then muttered something under his breath bitterly. You heard the creak of Specht's retreating footsteps and Kaz turned to you. “Will you wait until I get back?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You watched Kaz leave the room and let out a long sigh once the door had closed behind him. You were finally talking about whatever it was that was between the two of you and you just had to get interrupted.

You shed your coat, dropping it lazily on the floor next to you, and rolled up your shirt sleeves. Despite the pressure put on you from some members of the Dregs, you had never gotten the crow and cup tattoo on your forearm. You had known from the start that you didn’t want to belong to the gang, no matter how thankful you were for the help that Kaz had given you.

When you had realised who it really was that had approached you that night outside the Crow Club, you had been shocked. He knew your name when he spoke to you, though he had seemed unsure of it, and you had furrowed your brow and asked if you knew him.

“It’s Kaz.” He had said, and you had blinked.

“Kaz Rietveld?” You had whispered in disbelief. His jaw had clenched, his shoulders stiffened.

“That’s not my name anymore.” He snapped. “It’s Kaz Brekker now.”

When you asked him why he had changed his name he had simply told you that it was easier that way. When you asked him about why he was in Ketterdam he had answered that his father had died and they had sold the farm. When you asked about Jodie he didn’t answer.

He had walked you to the Slat, told you not to talk to anyone, and brought you up to this very room. You had trusted him enough to follow. Despite his proud presence in the Barrel, despite the fact that he was walking you into the den of a gang, despite the fact that he was almost unrecognisable from the Kaz that you knew as a child, you had trusted him. And in the years that followed, he had never broken that trust.

He had helped you pay for the first boarding house that you purchased, come with you to the bank when you took out the loan to buy your first ship, had come to the harbour to see you off the first time that you had gone to Ravka.

Kaz had once reminded you of something from your childhood while around the other Crows, and once it had slipped that you and Kaz had been friends when you were young, people were constantly asking you about what he had been like. He never told anybody anything about himself and people had been eager to find a source of information on him, but most people had quickly come to realise that you weren’t going to say anything either. Kaz had never thanked you for your discretion, but you knew that he was glad for it.

If you were honest with yourself, you had found yourself drawn to him ever since you got your first glimpse through his cold and uncaring exterior and saw his loyal and protective nature. The pull had only grown since.

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of the door opening, and you looked over to watch Kaz enter. The door clicked shut behind him and he moved to the wash basin directly across the room from the window that you were sat in, set down his cane and pulled off his gloves .

“A good job?” You asked. He shrugged.

“A job that I’ll do.” He answered and began unbuttoning his shirt. You tried not ogle as he pulled it off and picked up the washcloth from the basin, but you caught sight of a reddened stripe of raised skin across his side and furrowed your brows.

“When did that happen?”

“A few days ago.”

“How deep did it go?”

“Not too deep.”

“It doesn’t look like you stitched it up properly.”

“It’s fine.” He dismissed. You rolled your eyes and got up from the window ledge. Kaz never took proper care of himself but he was always too stubborn to admit it.

“Let me see.”

“I said it’s fine, Y/N-"

“Kaz.” You interrupted sternly, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I said let me see.” He held your gaze for a moment before letting out a huff and raising his arm so that you could get a better view of the wound.

You kept your distance as you looked over the injury, but you could clearly see that the stitches were sloppy on the end of the gash towards his back; the side that he couldn’t reach easily himself.

“You’re keeping it clean?”

“I know how to treat a wound.” He grumbled.

“I know that you know how, that doesn’t mean that I actually trust you to do it. You didn’t even have it bandaged or anything, what if it gets infected?”

“It won’t, Y/N, stop worrying so much.”

“Well, if you’re not going to worry about yourself then somebody else has to.” You exasperated. “At least bandage it.” You didn’t wait for a reply before you crossed over to the cabinet where he kept his impressive stock of medical supplies and grabbed a roll of gauze. Kaz caught it grudgingly when you tossed it to him and set it to the side while he finished washing his torso.

“You worry too much.” He muttered.

“It’s good for you.” You smiled.

You watched him as he unrolled the gauze and wrapped it around his body, carefully laying it over the wound with pale fingers that you rarely saw. He was precise, but he couldn’t see his back and the bandage twisted as he moved it between his hands.

“It’s folded.” You told him softly, taking half a step towards him. “I can fix it... if you want.” There was a beat of silence before Kaz nodded slightly.

You moved towards him slowly and reached for him even slower, your eyes constantly flicking back to the mirror to gauge the reaction on Kaz’s face. Your fingertips barely brushed over his back as you unfolded the downturned piece of bandage and you immediately stepped away when you were done. It took no more than a few seconds, but you could hear Kaz’s short breaths and when you looked at him in the mirror you could see that he had paled.

You picked up the clean shirt that was laid on his bed and held it out to him at full arms length. His hand shook as he took it from you. He pulled it on quickly, making short work of the buttons, and pulled his gloves back on hastily.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, though you weren’t exactly sure what you were apologising for.

“It’s because of Jordie.” Kaz’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, his eyes trained on his shoes. “Why I can’t touch anyone. It’s because when he died...”

“You don’t have to tell me, Kaz.” You said softly when he trailed off. He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds.

“When Jordie died, I was sick too. It was the Queen's Lady plague. One night, I fell asleep in an alley and woke up on the Reaper's Barge.” He swallowed thickly, wringing his hands together thoughtlessly, and you could see sweat forming on his brow. “When my fever broke, I had to swim back to the harbour, and Jordie... whenever someone touches me, all I can feel is those corpses.”

Silence hung between you as you tried to find the words to respond. It was a lot of information to take in, but suddenly things made sense. Now you understood why Kaz had become the way that he was; why he was prone to shutting people out, why the light behind his eyes had dimmed.

“Kaz, I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay.” He muttered. “I have work to do. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” He crossed the room to sit down at his desk, his movements tense. You watched him for a minute, unsure of what to do. It felt wrong to leave him alone right now, but you didn’t know if he would want you to stay.

“I’m sailing to Novyi Zem next week.” You said. It was the first topic that you could think of. “I’d really appreciate it if you could look over the rent ledgers while I’m gone.”

“Sure.” He replied flatly. Silence again.

“Will you come with us all to get waffles tomorrow?”

“I have work to do, and Nina didn’t invite me anyway.”

“Yeah, well, the celebration is for me and I’d really like for you to be there.” You smiled slightly. “She probably didn’t invite you because she knew you’d say no.”

“Smart of her.” Kaz responded, and you let out a frustrated huff.

“Don’t do that, Kaz. Don’t shut me out.” You complained. He didn’t answer at all. You folded your arms over your chest and went to stand beside his chair. “I don’t care that you can’t touch people, it doesn’t bother me. You went through trauma and that’s not your fault. What is bothering me is that you’re choosing to stay closed off to everyone. You can’t keep your walls up forever, you’ll kill yourself trying.”

“I can’t handle it, Y/N.” He snapped, his voice low. The gravel in his voice might have intimidated you into backing off if you weren’t so adamant on getting through to him.

“You’ll never be able to handle it if you don’t start trying.” You insisted. “Maybe if you’d just admit to yourself that you care about people it wouldn’t be so hard to see that we care about you too.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tightly, and released a long breath. You watched him, waiting for a response, not backing down. After a moment of silence, he glanced up at you.

“I can’t need anyone.” He said slowly. “Not after Jordie. I can’t let myself need anyone else.”

“You don’t have to need me, Kaz. You just have to want me.” You replied softly. His head snapped towards you and you actually saw his pupils dilate for the few seconds that he held your gaze before quickly turning away again. You hadn’t meant it like that, but you weren’t upset that he’d heard it that way.

“I don’t deserve you.” He muttered. You leaned against his desk, a sympathetic smile on your face even though he wasn’t looking at you.

“I’ve been around this long, I’m not going anywhere.” You promised. “There’s more to love about you than you think.”

Kaz tapped on his desk with a finger, a nervous action that he would usually suppress. Then, he took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.

“Okay.” He breathed. “I can try.” You bit down on your tongue in an attempt to suppress your grin, but you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face.

“That’s all I ask.” You lilted. You stood up straight, pushing off of the desk and starting across the room to the window. You rolled your shirt sleeves down and snatched your coat up from the floor. “I’m going to head home. I expect to see you at my door promptly at eleven bells tomorrow morning, ready to get waffles.”

“Alright.” He nodded, breathing a single light laugh.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“Here, Y/N, these are for you.” He said quickly, picking up and couple of envelopes from his desk and holding them up for you. “You’ll have to make sure to notify your business partners of your change in mailing address.” You chuckled, going to take the letters from him, and he gave a small smirk as he handed them over.

“Thank you.” You smiled, before turning and heading to the door. “Eleven bells, Brekker. I know you’re a punctual man.”

“I’ll be there.” He affirmed. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Kaz.” You echoed softly before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you, a fond smile on your lips.

[youarejesting]

Hope In The Sheets.8

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 2.9k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Braxton hicks, Reader thinks she is being followed (but is mistaken), and a love making scene very short and sweet.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

With your final month of pregnancy approaching you were finally ready to take your maternity leave. Deciding to continue working for as long as you could to save some money. The boss was getting super weird but you were holding your tongue and making up excuses to leave his presence.

Your last day was a little extravagant with cake and a card signed by your colleagues. The boss gave you a bouquet of flowers, which you graciously accepted as it was your last day. Everyone took photos and your boss awkwardly pulled you close, his hand resting on your belly.

Irritation growing, you wanted nothing more than to push his hand away and leave. The scent of his cologne made you feel a little sick and you were unbelievably sweaty. Excusing yourself to the safety of the women's bathroom you splashed your neck with some cool water. 

Calling Jimin you whispered, “I need you to come pick me up, the boss is being weird again.”

“I am near by, give me a few minutes I will get you,” Jimin’s sweet voice rang like tiny chimes through the phone.

You waited another couple of minutes and heard your name called from the hall, “Y/n?, are you okay in there?” It was your creepy boss.

“Sorry, I am just having a hot flash so I am splashing water on my neck,” You laughed, trying to appear casual and not cause him any reason to suspect you are in distress as you would bet he would barge in otherwise, “I will be out soon.”

Your phone chimed.

[Jimin: We are in the elevator grab your things for a quick escape.]

Curious as to who he was referring to as ‘we’ but not questioning it, he was right you should get ready to leave as quickly as possible. Heading out to the gathering of your colleagues, you smiled fanning yourself.

“Here is some ice water,” One of the women smiled, “I remember when I was pregnant it was unbearably hot.”

“Thanks,” You took a drink and sighed happily at the cool liquid, standing in front of your bag, the flowers and card. The elevator doors opened to reveal a well dressed Jimin and a rather handsome man you recognized from the bar. Jungkook’s best friend, Taehyung was it? You smiled at the two as they smiled greeting everyone. “Hello, we are Y/n’s friends, I'm Jimin and this is Taehyung. We have come to pick her up.” Jimin looked around the room and his eyes lit up, “wow you are all so nice a party and everything.” 

Jimin charmed the room easily and Taehyung wasn’t doing too badly either as he took the flowers and your bag. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Ah yes, I wouldn’t mind going home for a rest,” allowing the two young men to lead you towards the elevator, “Goodbye, I will hopefully see you when I am back from leave.”

They all waved and wished you good luck, and you didn’t miss the disappointed look on your boss' face. Your shoulders slumped as you leaned against the wall of the elevator, “I am so tired.”

“We will get you home soon,” Jimin smiled, rubbing your back and pulling you into a hug.

“Should we reschedule?” Taehyung said, “Or, I can um pay again, if you don’t mind waiting for a few weeks, I will save up enough money for another date.”

Jimin was at a loss for words. You knew he didn’t know what to say and you smiled, “Hey no, I will be home soon, just drop me off and go back to Jimin’s, he has a cinema room and you can order in and watch movies.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Jimin smiled, reassuringly at Taehyung,

“Half a movie, I can only afford half a movie,” He mumbled downtrodden. Jimin wet his lips feeling awkward, he hadn’t dated anyone who wasn’t loaded with cash in a long time. 

“Jimin has a rule that if he can’t make a date the next one is half price,” you took the art of improv to a whole new level, “he couldn’t make your date and it had to be rescheduled, right? So, this one is half price so you can get twice the amount of time.”

“Yeah, she is right so we can hang out a little longer.” Jimin bit his lip looking at the young man and seeing the small smile pull up on his lips. “So let’s drop the tiny mama off and go watch a movie.”

“Ok,” Taehyung smiled, you watched the two, nervous like a highschool crush developing between two students. The two graciously dropped them off and Jimin walked you to the door.

“You are smitten!” You grinned, teasing him lightly watching his blush grow. Your eyes catching Taehyung fixing his hair in the passenger seat drop down mirror. “You have never been nervous in your life, and he is so sweet.”

“I have been with rich men here and there looking for a date or a night, but I have never had someone scraping together their money to spend just a little time with me, making handmade gifts because that's all they can do.” Jimin was clutching his heart, and you finally found the key for the front door. “When he tells me I am pretty, or that he loves my voice, it’s different. I know those CEO’s had wives, but when he says it, I feel special like I am the only one in the world he says it too.”

“So what’s the problem?” You asked, letting Jimin walk you inside with all your items. “You have a lot of savings and investment properties, you could live off that money very easily.”

“How can I see him when he thinks he has to pay me all the time?” Jimin mumbled, walking back to the front door. “I don’t want him to go bankrupt because he thinks he can’t afford my rates”

“I heard at the bar that he like photography. Tell him you want a photoshoot but you don’t know a good photographer who you feel comfortable with.” You hugged and an idea struck. “Say you can’t decide on a concept and offer him a few different ones you want to try. He has been asked to submit his work into an exhibition. I think the theme was nightlife.”

“Nightlife.”

“It’s up for interpretation, but who has a more busy nightlife than you, and I am not talking about going out on the town. A sensual at home photoshoot of you in a sheet or a naked silhouette overlooking the night city.”

“Oh that could be fun, I could be part of an exhibition” he giggled, “I will ask him.”

Jimin hugged you again for safe measure and ran off to his van and climbed inside.

You waved shutting the door and heading to the fridge hoping some cold yoghurt would soothe your overheated form, whilst also feeding your almost insatiable hunger.

Opening the fridge, you saw the last of your yoghurt at the back, bending slightly you felt a twinge in your back and as you straightened up, Yoghurt in your hand as you were overcome with a tightness in your stomach. Was this a contraction?

You were two weeks out from your due date so it wasn’t unusual for people to have their babies early. You pulled out your phone calling for an ambulance and trying to breathe calmly.

[Y/n: I think I am in labor, and you’re the only one who is free today.] [DJSuga: Like really or that time you ate too much rice too quickly and got indigestion?] [Y/n: I just called the ambulance.] [DJSuga: I will meet you at the hospital let me know what ward you are in when you know.]

“Hello, I am looking for Miss Y/n.” Yoongi’s voice carried across the hall from the nurses desk to your room. “I would describe her as pregnant but it wouldn’t help.”

“Wow, you are very descriptive. You really have no words to describe me Yoongi? I am offended.” You pouted walking out into the hall, “Let’s go home.”

“What I thought you were popping out a baby today?” he said confused, “If you say it was constipation or something stupid I will hit you upside the head.”

“Well, it wasn’t that.” You blushed, “It was braxton hicks?”

“Who?” he blanked, utterly confused, “What are you talking about?”

“It means fake labor, like a test run.”

“Can you stop with the test runs, I don’t think my body can take it anymore?” Yoongi held his back waddling down the hallway making you giggle. “Come on, I saw a restaurant for lamb skewers and I have been craving it since.”

“You are acting more like a pregnant woman than I am.”

Walking out the front of the hospital you were bombarded by Jin, Jungkook, Namjoon, and a disheveled Jimin with Taehyung. You didn’t realize how your eyes looked for Hoseok, until you didn’t find him. The crushing feeling in your chest made you frown slightly.

“False alarm.” Yoongi muttered, “Apparently Barbie Hacks or something, we are getting lamb skewers. Come on, I hear Jin is paying.”

Hoseok arrived at the Bar and saw that no one was around, the place was locked up with a sign announcing that it was closed for the night. It was strange Jin didn’t ever believe in taking days off, even when he was sick he would be in his office resting.

He called Jin’s phone and heard laughter, “I will be back” Jin's voice called. Hoseok could hear Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi talking about something adamantly. Had they planned something without him.

“Hey Hoseok, what do you need?”

“Your bar is closed?” Hoseok mumbled, “I was wondering what you are all doing?”

“Y/n went to the hospital because she was getting contractions but they turned out to be Braxton hicks, so we are having lamb skewers on Yoongi’s request.”

“Why did no one tell me?” Hoseok felt a little sick that his friends were hanging out without him and there was a strange pull in his chest knowing that he wasn’t there at the hospital. 

“I didn’t think we had to, seeing as you are not the father of any children.” Jin repeated his words back to him, “We aren’t picking sides but you made it clear you didn’t want to be a part of the child's life. So we didn’t want to force you to be there.”

“I never said that I didn’t want to be a part!” Hoseok shouted down the phone, “Urgh, this is fucked.”

With a sigh Jin grew deadly serious, “she was scared out of her mind today, she thought she was going to have to give birth alone, you have to talk to her.”

“I said some stupid shit, Jin. I don’t know how to fix this.” Hoseok pulled at his hair and started heading to your house, hoping that perhaps the two of you could talk this out before he ended up losing you.

He had so much that he wanted to say and get mad about, he wasn’t ready to forgive you but he wasn’t ready to let you go either.

You were dropped off at Hoseok’s apartment, the one you had lived in together before everything went wrong. Touching your rounded tummy you knew that this child wasn’t a mistake and apologized out loud for even implying anything of the sorts. Taking the stairs to the second floor you arrived at his door.

Knock knock.

“Hoseok are you home?” You called, taking the key from your keychain you peaked inside to see the lights were off. You sat for a moment but he didn’t come home and it was getting a little dark. 

Heading out you locked up and walked along the road. You put a headphone in and pretended to be in a conversation. Speeding up slightly as you passed the men sitting on the steps of one of the stores that had closed up for the night. The men were laughing about something and you scurried along. 

Sighing in relief when you went to cross the street, looking both ways you caught sight of figures following you. Were the men following you? What did they want? Thoughts were circling in your head as the adrenaline started to kick in. Dialing hoseok you crossed the road.

“Hello, Y/n?” Hoseok said “I wanted to-”

“Hoseok, there are men following me” you whispered.

“Where are you?” He asked, sounding concerned, which gave you a flash of hope that he would protect you like he always did.

“I am on our street, I am heading to Yuta, I need to go somewhere public.” You replied walking briskly.

“Keep walking, I'm on my way.” You heard the sound of an engine and you knew everything would be okay. Hoseok wouldn’t let you get hurt.

“Don’t hang up, they are still following.” Picking up your speed you noticed they had started to walk a little more briskly. “I sped up and they did too, Hobi, I am really scared.”

“Don’t slow down, you got this little darling, I will be there soon.” Hoseok said with desperation in his voice. “I won’t leave you on your own anymore. I should have been there today. I should be with you now!”

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you screamed phone clattering onto the ground, “I am sorry miss, we called out but your headphones were in, you dropped your wallet.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, do you need help, can we escort you somewhere?” The other man asked. “There has been some break-ins recently so we have taken to watching the neighborhood.”

They walked you back towards Hoseok's and you sat with them as you spoke about what happened with Hoseok. Talking about how you stuffed up and lied to him. “You mean the really happy guy with the reddish hair? You two used to walk this street all the time. I knew you too liked each other,” they grinned

“So is it a little girl or boy?” One of the guys gestured to your belly. “Have you thought of any names?”

“A little girl and I have been thinking of some. Sun-Hee it just reminds me so much of her dad,” you hummed, a little nervous to hear their feedback, “does it sound silly?”

“It sounds beautiful.”

Looking up there was Hoseok panting and looking relieved to see you okay. Standing, you walked over to your longest friend, hoping he didn’t scold you. “Hoseok, I am sorry.”

He pulled you into a hug and buried his face in your neck, “I don’t care. I don’t care that you lied and kept this from me. I don’t care about any of that, let me be here for you. I will be by your side.”

You were crying, he took your face in his hands brushing your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Alright love birds, Kiss each other.”

Your cheeks were bright red, ready to laugh and tell the men it wasn’t like that when Hoseok pulled you forward. Pressing his lips to your's, he kissed you fiercely, his hands holding your waist and cradling your head. He tried to pull you closer when your belly bumped against him. He looked down and rubbed your belly gently, “I am sorry I wasn’t there but I am here now, and I am not leaving.”

“Let’s go home, Hobi.” You whispered, he thanked the men for taking care of you and led you to his van. He drove back to your house and walked you inside, shutting the door and taking off his shoes. The two of you sat on the couch.

“I guess you have a lot to talk about.” Hoseok said nervous and you swung your leg over his lap and kissed him. It was difficult to maneuver with your big belly, but you were too busy enjoying the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

“I want to remember this time,” you breathed against him. “Please let’s just pretend that one didn’t happen and try again.”

Hoseok laughed and lifted you carefully and carried you to the bedroom.

Hoseok was gentle and passionate; he teased you with his fingers and lavished you with his tongue. You had never had anything like this. Usually you were chasing a high with some guy you never had plans to call again, and that was on the rare occasion you were looking for sex. This made you feel overwhelmingly good, your heart was pounding. Every thrust brought with it a spark of energy. You clung to Hoseok as he lost himself in the sensations. 

He would open his eyes in moments of clarity and kiss you telling you how much he loved you. It wasn’t like jumping off the edge into pleasure; this was like waves that started small and built into a choppy tide never crashing upon you, just rocking you with pleasure. After the crescendo moment the waves began to ease back until it was the gentle waters lapping at the sand.

“Hobi,” you panted as he laid your head on his chest. He hummed encouraging you to continue. You took his hand and placed it onto your belly, “you remember two minutes ago when we had sex, well I think I fell pregnant.”

He laughed, throwing his head back into the pillow and leaned down kissing your belly, “I think you might be right!”

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[stopbeingrude]

Hi guys , how are you doing ? I hope you had at least a decent day. I was really surprised by how many people were interested in my story. (blush) Im so glad As promised, here's chapter 2 ,, I like the rain, it always seemed like the only thing that was like me…" Chapter 2. ,,Thank you for being here" Juvia looked at the object in her hands that she found while packing for their trip to Tempeville. A tiny umbrella , white with smiling suns printed on it .She remembered vividly the exact moment Jerry had handed it to her. - "Here, this is for you, I couldn't bear to hear you whining anymore,"- said the golden-haired man, handing the little girl his gift. -'' I've told you many times, that in time you would be able to control the rain around you. It's normal for water to behave strangely around water mages, and I had a problem with it too….- said Jerry. The man thought for a moment, then added. -..I'm pretty sure I told you how I nearly drowned my ex girlfriend….I told you, right?.. "- little girl nodded-"...Of course I did…haha..If only you could see that bitc...yh...lady's face….Where was I at again?............Oh right!... If only you were just a bit more patient, little froggy.." -"I told you not to call me that, you dummy! "- shouted the seemingly angry Juvia. It was obvious that she wasn't angry, but if those were supposed to be birthday wishes , then that this old slacker could have tried a little harder. -''Oi! Brat....I'm trying my best to wish you a happy birthday and you act like this? -" What kind of birthday wishes are these supposed to be!?- the girl exclaimed. -..Unbelievable! Young people these days are so ungrateful….Ugh .."- he complained, but eventually gave up. -" Heh... Alright….Im sorry... Happy Birthday Juju…- he said with a grin. He couldn't stay angry with his baby for too long. - "...I wish you happiness, health,...I hope you'll grow up to be a decent and intelligent woman ... because remember this..., it's not how you look that counts, it's what's in your head…. - the man poked her forehead lightly, causing the girl to giggle. Despite the tough character of her ..guardian ...? I guess you could call him that… despite his difficult sense of humour and his biting remarks, she knew that she was important to him, just as he was important to her. He just had a strange way of showing affection... Juvia laughed lightly despite a few tears that flowed from her sapphire eyes. It was for moments like this , she's been able to endure the bullying of other children , she knew that every sad experience ended with a visit from Jerry. Every visit ended with one of his strange ideas that always put a smile back on her face, like that one time he took her out for hot dogs at 10pm. Juvia was never able to forget the look on the orphanage ladies' faces when Jerry walked her back at 1 am. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice when her fiancé appeared in their bedroom. -" I've never seen this one…"- he pointed at the umbrella- ''.. I'm guessing it's a special one then" -he stated, handing her tea. - "Thank you... "- she took a sip-"...Yes you're right... actually it was a present for my birthday. HE gave it to me…" After packing the last things, they both sat down on the bed. Neither of them was quite sure how to start a conversation. Gray didn't like the strange atmosphere that had prevailed in their apartment since yesterday. But most of all he did not like how distant Juvia seemed to be. That wasn't his Juvia. Devil Slayer rested his head on her shoulder. When Blue-haired woman began to gently stroke his hair, he immediately relaxed . He missed that... After what for him felt like ages , she decided to speak. -"Juvia is sorry that she didn't tell you anything...Juv….. I was just trying to forget about it... it's not like I don't trust you....Please don't be angry…"-she said in an uncertain voice. -"I'm not angry at you….I'm just a little disappointed...I thought you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me everything…"- he admitted. It was silly to admit , but he didn't

like the fact that Juvia wouldn't tell him something. He knew that everyone had the right to have their own secrets, but his desire to find out what was in her head was much stronger. After a while he decided to ask her more - "Is there anything else you haven't told me about yourself?" He needed to know. -" No. Everything else is true…About my childhood, about Phantom Lord...and mostly about my parents..." …………………………. -".........What happened to your parents...?"- he asked quietly. He contemplated for a moment whether he should ask her this question. After all, he didn't know what kind of reaction this would cause.. -" My mother died when I was about 2 years old.... I don't know who my father was... Jerry said he never met him…about my mother.."- Juvia looked as if she was thinking very hard about something, and after a moment she added-"..Jerry once told me that even she couldn't remember who he exactly was….not that she cared about it or about being pregnant …"- said Juvia weirdly. Wait , what? -"..L-let me get this straight…...you're trying to tell me….that she didn't really care that she got pregnant...and that she wasn't even trying to look for your father? ' Wait, what !?' -….ymm... that's....." - the man persistently tried to choose the right words. He did not want to offend his fiancée's mother by any means (If not for her , Juvia wouldn't be there in the first place, so she obviously deserved to be at least respected)....But everything Juvia had mentioned sounded...How to put it?...Concerning? -" It's not normal... I know... you don't have to hold back Darling- she said with a slight smile- "Her name was Eliana and apparently she was always like...that..., she was...well DIFFERENT.."- that's how Jerry would always describe her-"....She didn't really care about anything, she didn't talk too much, she rarely showed any kind of emotion....She was one big secret, even for him. Juvia never fully got it. Why would she be like that with the person she supposedly was…… ..ymm…..Close.?"- he didn't miss the way she said the last word, but he kept quiet about it. After all ,the relationship between two strangers wasn't his business. Gray decided to change the subject a bit. -"You know..., I think it's really great of him to take care of both of you.…"-despite the fact that the night before Gray had felt a lot of anger towards the aforementioned man, right now he was grateful that he had taken both ladies under his care.- "He must have been an amazing person. It really sounds like you are telling me about some hero or saint"- ice mage smiled - "He was "- said blunette with a smile - "I will always be grateful to him...But Saint ? No, no ,no...That's probably too much of an exaggeration." - she added with a giggle. Gray was glad that she was laughing again, he couldn't help but laugh a little too. They are slowly returning to normalcy... - "He was the laziest, most stubborn man you could find on this planet….He was untactful , brutally honest and worst of all, sometimes he could be so awfully mean and grumpy , especially when it was Tuesday...Juvia never got that...why Tuesday?….Dear God , he could be so unbearable...."- Juvia stopped for a moment, then smiled playfully.- "Honestly you two are pretty similar in that case" - "Ekhem....So.. you're suggesting that I'm mean and grumpy ? Oh ..Alright... I'll remember that when you want something from me..."- Gray said, pretending to be offended and trying hard not to smile. Juvia laughed loudly, then wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. After Jerry disappeared, she was sure she would never get attached to anyone again. She didn't want to suffer more. But as we all know, life likes to surprise us, and "never" is not eternal. First she met Gajeel , with whom, by some strange coincidence, she found a connection. Funny, considering how different they were. Even then a quiet voice in her head, similar to Jerry's, whispered to her to not get too attached….that it didn't make sense. On that day, for the first time in her

life, she decided to ignore it, and thanks to that, she gained a wonderful friend. The same situation happened again after she met Gray and Fairy tail. The insistent voice kept reminding her of the past. 'Just because you've miraculously found a friend who hasn't left you, doesn't mean that it will happen again...' 'So what if he stopped your rain, one day you'd be able to deal with it by yourself…..Besides, don't you remember what happened the last time you felt something for a guy? It's just stupid, meaningless crush, just get over it....' But as time passed and she became more and more attached to the guild mates, more and more in love with Gray..... The voice in her head gradually faded and after a while the only sound she heard was the laughter of her loved ones. Despite the suffering of the past, Juvia no longer regretted anything. She would go through it even 100 more times, just to be happy with her new family. -"Oi ! - she felt Gray lightly tap her nose- Juvs don't fall asleep, we have a train in about two hours….. Remember? "- he asked amused - "You're right! Juvia's sorry, she got lost in her thoughts…" ****************************************** - "Are you going on a mission ?" asked Mira Jane cheerfully, as the couple informed her of their departure. Gray didn't necessarily want to share with her the reason for their trip. After all, it was a rather sensitive topic. - "Yyyy it's more like..... a..vacation...?...Right Juvia?"- he turned to his fiancée - "Oh!....Yes, yes..."- nodded the woman. The barmaid looked at them with a huge smile. She still couldn't quite believe that these two were finally together.… - "In that case I wish you a wonderful time, lovebirds" - she giggled as she saw them both turning red. - "Ooh vacation? That's awesome, wish you a great time guys." -they heard Lucy's voice behind them. - "They are such a beautiful couple."- added Erza proudly-" I can't believe that our Gray has grown so much..I hope you'll have an amazing vacation." - '"I also wish you an amazing time'' -said Wendy happily. -Ohhh..young love…- sang Happy, flying over their heads. - " And where are you two going anyway?"- asked Natsu curiously while finishing his lunch. - "We decided to visit my hometown,"- said Juvia. Her friends didn't need to know more... - "Oh cool..Where is it?" -continued Natsu. He never really thought much about where his guild-mate came from.. -" I don't think that's your business Flame-brain. Besides you probably wouldn't know where it is anyway." -said Gray, slightly annoyed. He was slowly starting to get on his nerves. Why does Natsu always have to meddle in things that are not his own? - "I asked Juvia ,not you Icy-pants" said Natsu teasingly. Jeez what's wrong with Droopy eyes today , he just asked a simple question. - "Calm down both of you "- said Lucy. She didn't like where this conversation was going. -'' Lucy is right, there is no point in arguing....Natsu if you really want to know, Juvia was born in the town of Tempeville, in the south - said Juvia, trying to calm down quickly. - "Oh, I've never heard of that place," Natsu said, surprised. Looks like there's a lot of towns he didn't know about. - "See, I told you so,"- said Gray. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have a train to catch. So let's get going… - "Hey Lucy, Happy, let's go with them...I'd like to see what that place is like "- said Natsu suddenly, dragging the blonde with him. His girlfriend looked at him in horror. 'Natsu, what are you thinking? Are you trying to ruin their trip?' - "The hell?! "- shouted Gray. And then he thought that everything was going well…'Please no….' - "Natsu, that's their private vacation! "- exclaimed Lucy, knowing very well that they should leave the couple alone- "Besides, they said they have a train coming soon!" -"Then let's go , we have to get ready quickly…...!" "LEAVE US ALONE !!' - desperate Gray shouted as loud as he could, unintentionally focusing the attention of practically the entire guild. They all looked at him, disapproval clearly written on

their faces. - "Gee..Buddy..you don't have to be so rude," - said Max. - "My God… what's with you?- whispered Lisanna - "Exactly Gray, what kind of behavior is that? "- Erza asked in a stern tone- "If you don't want Natsu to come with you, just tell him politely. The Devil Slayer wanted to disappear... It wasn't supposed to be like this. He turned his gaze towards his fiancée, silently asking for any kind of rescue. However, he was met with the same horrified gaze. After a moment, the girl bowed her head slightly and said to the rest of the guild. -"Everyone , please forgive us, especially Gray. I don't know what's going on with him lately...." - ' Huh ?'- Gray must have heard that wrong….There is no way... -"....He's been very tired and stressed lately, probably because of work, that's why we decided to go on vacation…..Juvia didn't know what to do...." said Juvia, brilliantly pretending to be distraught. 'Stop making me out to be some kind of aggressive freak,' Gray shouted in his mind 'Juvia is sorry but this is kinda your fault'- thought blunette , while taking a look at her lover. - "Relax Juvia, you don't have to apologize to us... To be honest Natsu tried to force his way into your trip" - said Lucy, looking at her partner with an annoyance. - Sorry Juvia….-said the pink haired boy meekly-"...but the ice princess can kiss my ass. I won't apologize to him.." -he added quietly. - "It honestly sounds like an excuse to leave you alone so you can shag in peace" -said Cana under her breath. She wanted to add something else but then she felt a murderous gaze of the black-haired man and decided to shut up. -"True!"- added Gajeel, receiving a look full of indignation from his best friend. -"That's so MANLY" - "How could you blame them though….." -laughed Macao. -"GOODBYE !" - shouted Fullbuster blushing furiously ,as he headed straight to the door, dragging his equally embarrassed lover with him. As they walked towards the train station, dragging their suitcases behind them, blunette suddenly asked… - "Did you really do this...to be all alone with me....?" asked Juvia innocently. Oh how she loved teasing him like that... -"JUVIA ?! "- At this point Gray was close to having a heart attack. A very amused girl could not stop laughing for a while , until they got on the train and they sat down in one of the wagons. Their journey has just begun. ****************************************** Very random/ unnecessary bonus . Remember this, Lovelies! Never doodle under the influence of alcohol, you will get wierd ideas lol. ,, Do you see this sh*t Juvia? People are fighting over fictional characters… Humanity really is getting dumber and dumber...."

[hokeytheelf]

Blackinnon, a measured response.

Would update if more discussions comes out. This post is not for a specific person. If the statement doesn’t apply to you, do not take it personally.

If you think Blackinnon is homophobic, think again!

Here are the facts: yes, Blackinnon is fanon. yes, we are a small community. yes, it’s heterosexual. But does that mean we hate queer ships?  No.

Some may think,  “Marlene Mckinnon is not even a background character, why on earth does people ship it? They must be homophobic.” This may be a little shocking, but accusing someone of being homophobic just based on what they ship is an act of denigration. You’re just putting hate on other people’s mouth to make them your foe, even if they have no intentions to be so.

We can ship blackinnon and wolfstar or dorlene. Some of blackinnon shippers actually believe those can co-exist. So what is the problem?  We can ship wolfstar or dorlene and not blackinnon or the other way around. It’s really based on taste and what they’ve read. 

Shipping a straight ship is not an act of homophobia, nor does it make you straight. I could be gay or bi and ship blackinnon. It’s not a hard concept to understand.

I know a lot of people who hate blackinnon rant because they have a passion for their own ship, and I don’t blame them. You can ship whatever you want. But is it really necessary to bring other ship down?

If you have the need to rant and hate about a certain ship, make sure you use the anti tag. If you knew about the tag but still refuse to use it, you’re just writing rants to belittle other people in your favor. Doesn’t sound very accepting.

read more about my points on Blackinnon and sexuality from previous discussions here (x) 

Seriously, though, WHY do people ship it? 

If you genuinely want to know, then ask the person who ship them. I can’t speak on behalf of all the Blackinnon shippers because they ship it for different reasons. Some ship it for their dynamic, from the fanfics they’ve read, from the headcanons, from their view of Marlene, from their view of Sirius and many more.

For me personally, I ship them for two reasons. Their character dynamics throghout almost all the fanfics i read and, because in my mind wolfstar couldn’t work because of Sirius’s insensitivity for Remus throughout the books (i.e. The Prank, him liking the full moon, giving his riches to harry, his suspicion, etc.), and Frankly i think Remus deserves better. Shockingly, that’s just my opinion. And I have no problem with people not agreeing, but that’s what I concluded when I read the books. and the idea of Sirius having someone is nice you know? The flexibility of Marlene’s character is very inviting for everyone because they have their own interpretations.

Someway or another, you should accept that people have different opinions and interpretation. If you think blackinnon is unbelievably bad, then you do you. Doesn’t mean you have to leave a hate-post on their tag, nor should you blame them for shipping stuff they like.

Blackinnon is a very small ship. And if you hate it, you shouldn’t even bother commenting, responding, or ranting. It just makes people defend it, really. Some people love this ship and you’ve gone out of your way to make them feel bad about themselves. Why?

Marlene McKinnon is not even a a proper character

Here are the facts about Marlene McKinnon: Her name means star of the sea, she is a member of the order, her name is mentioned in Lily’s letter to Sirius, Sirius pointed at her in the movies.

A person that we know Sirius is at least acquainted/friends with makes her a blank canvas. As we all know, Sirius has no romance life in canon, so our options are very minimal. 

There are people who ship Sirius with Caradoc, Benjy, Dorcas, Mary, Gideon, Fabian, and so much more. There are less hate for them compared to blackinnon and here’s why: Marlene McKinnon seemed to be in the spotlight because she is second to Remus in terms of possible pair for Sirius. That’s it.

Some Blackinnon shippers like blackinon because Marlene is practically a walking OC. She can be whatever you want.

 But people tend to focus on the fact that she’s female. Putting that aside, Marlene is an absolute blast to read. Yes, she’s mentioned only a few times, but the whole point of Blackinnon is the possibility. Isn’t that always the case for fanon ships?

Understand the hate towards Blackinnon

When I first dive into Blackinnon years ago, all I see is hate thrown at them. The hate hasn’t stop, whether it’s from private messages or from hate-post.

The conversations I have with fellow Blackinnon shippers usually consist of the same things, “Why don’t they just leave us be?” and till this day I still wonder.

I’ve done my research, and really I wanted the results to be different. 

There are many many many ships out there, using incest, pedophilia, or other stuff, and shockingly, it receives less hate from people. Doesn’t that beg the question? 

Do people hate it because they simply dislike it or are they hating it because they have biased opinions about other ships. The truth is, (I’m going to unfilter- god protect me from hate messages) Blackinnon received a lot of hate because it’s the opposite of wolfstar. It’s straight. It’s not Remus. The audacity of people shipping Sirius with a person other than Remus! It’s the same argument for Remadora hate. More than 70%  (not all ) of the people who hate on blackinnon and remadora, I observe, is from wolfstar shippers. (Yes, I counted it. I am a math god, and in need of a job)

People don’t have as much of a problem for Sirius/Mary, Sirius/Dorcas, Sirius/ Benjy, Sirius/Hermione etc. They have a problem with Blackinnon and Remadora (I wonder why).  I’ll say it again, Marlene McKinnon seemed to be in the spotlight because she is second to Remus in terms of possible pair for Sirius.

Hating other ship to make your ship appear better is.... to be honest, understandable. But to tell you the truth, It doesn’t change a thing.

It doesn’t make me hate my ship. If your intentions on writing hate post is to receive approval from other people, I suggest you search for something else than the topic of hatred.

But, again, if you have the need for the feeling of satisfaction of speaking your opinion of something you passionately hate, then use anti-tag. It’s not so hard.

***CONCLUSION***

At the end of the day we have so much love for these characters, and our biases is only for ourselves. Can’t we just agree  that although we love Harry Potter, we can also love different characters throughout the books/movies? There are communities for everything, focus on the community you love, not the community you hate.

If you got offended throughout reading his post, I’m sorry. But let me clear things up, I do not hate wolfstar, queer-ships, etc. I just like blackinnon, as simple as that. This doesn’t prove that I’m straight, or bi, or anything. It’s just what I like. This post is a defense and obviously not a hate-post. What I ask of you is just to leave blackinnon (and remadora) alone. Thank you.

I am doing this measured response so I don’t have to re-write everything every time people leave hate-posts. If you receive this from a link in the comments, thank you for taking the time, and remember that it’s not meant for you specifically. Disclaimer: Do not share this to people in anti tag.

Check out my Ultimate Blackinnon fanfiction masterlist here

[immabethehero]

Henrik but he’s Baymax

Hey so! A little while ago on a discord server, I suddenly came up with the idea of Henrik as Baymax, and this story spawned from it. Should I make more content for it, I’ll call it Henrik Healthcare Provider.

CW: Death mention, food mention, self-neglect and slight starvation, coma mention, hospital mention

@leobashi I know you were excited about this!

~~~~~~~~

Chase lies in bed, his arms wrapped around a pillow as he stares blankly at the wall. The curtains are closed, only bits of sunshine peeking through. A plate of cold, untouched food sits on his desk. He can’t remember how long it’s been since he last slept or moved. He sighs and closes his eyes. Maybe this time he won’t get nightmares.

Someone knocks on the door. Chase keeps his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. He hears someone open the door. A waft of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns fills the stuffy room.

“Morning, Chase,” a voice whispers. It’s Marvin bringing him food today. Chase wills him to put the food down and leave.

He hears steps and the plate being set down, but instead of closing the door, he hears footsteps coming toward him, and then a weight beside him on the bed. A hand gently strokes his hair.

“You should come down soon. The others miss seeing you,” Marvin says. “Sleep well, Chase. I hope you feel better soon.” The weight disappears and Chase hears the door close.

Chase groans and sits up, his body aching from lying still for too long. He supposes he should get outside his room soon. It’s what Jack would want him to do.

Chase’s stomach drops and his eyes water as soon as the thought enters his head. He misses Jack so much. His roommate, his rock, his best friend. It has been two weeks since the fire that had rendered Jack unconscious when he ran in to save their robotics professor. The building had exploded in flames, and while Jack was rescued by firefighters and immediately rushed to the hospital, their professor was not so lucky. Jack now resides in the hospital, bandages covering nasty burn wounds, and a breathing tube up his nose. Chase visits whenever he can, saying hello and catching him up on life, before leaving to lie in bed until the next time he could see him.

Chase slowly stands up and stumbles over to his wardrobe. He opens it and begins rummaging through for clean pants to wear. He grabs a pair of navy jeans and slams the drawer on his finger.

“OW!” Chase yelps, yanking his finger out and holding it close. He groans in pain, holding his finger. 

Suddenly, he hears a beeping sound from behind him and the sound of something stirring to life. He turns around and gasps as two ice blue eyes stare back at him.

“Who are you?!” Chase demands, his voice hoarse from disuse.

A figure steps out from the dark shadows of the room, the sunlight peeking out from behind the blinds shining on a human body. 

Chase makes out a man with soft brown hair, a light blue shirt and khakis underneath a white doctor’s coat. The man observes Chase with a friendly expression on his face. A very small pair of glasses sits on his nose. They look more like two connected dots. The man lifts his hand robotically and waves.

“Hello, I am Henrik, your personal healthcare companion,” he says. His voice is soft with a German accent.

“Henrik! I didn’t know you were still active,” Chase says, shocked. He had almost forgotten Jack bringing home his creepy, life-sized robot doctor. Jack had worked for a whole 6 months on the robot, fitting him up with over 1000 healthcare protocols and procedures. At the cry of “ow”, the robot awakens.

“I heard a sound of distress. What seems to be the trouble?” Henrik asks, tilting his head.

“I just pinched my finger, I’ll be alright,” Chase says, shrugging.

Henrik blinks and his glasses project a screen in the air. Ten faces appear, each with a number. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

“Zero? I’m fine, it’s already gone,” Chase says. “You can go back to sleep now.”

Henrik leans over to inspect the wound. “Does it hurt when I touch it?” he asks as he lifts his hand up.

“Please do not touch me,” Chase snaps, stepping back. Henrik ignores him, stepping closer to see his finger. Chase stumbles and falls backwards into the space between the wardrobe and the wall.

Henrik stares down at him, expression still neutral. “You have fallen.”

“You think?” Chase scoffs. He grabs a shelf to pull himself up, only for the shelf to break and trinkets to slide down on him. All the while, Henrik asks,

“On a scale of-”

“OW!”

“On a scale of-”

“AGH!”

“On a scale of-”

“Eugh!”

“On a scale of on-”

A particularly heavy trophy lands on Chase’s tenders. He emits a high pitched cry.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

“Zero,” Chase squeaks, holding his sore tenders.

Henrik pulls Chase out of the rubble and hugs him tightly. “It is alright to cry. Crying is a natural response to pain.”

Chase pulls himself out of Henrik’s grip. “I’m not crying!”

“I will scan you for injuries,” Henrik says.

“Don’t scan me,” Chase orders.

Henrik blinks. “Scan complete.”

“Unbelievable.”

“You have sustained no injuries, but you lack necessary nutrients in your body. Have you eaten today?”

“Yes,” Chase snaps. Right on cue, his stomach growls. He sighs.

Henrik does not react in the slightest. Marvin or Jameson would have shaken their heads, Jackie and Jack would have immediately run off to grab Chase a snack. Instead, Henrik looks around the room, before taking notice of the food on Chase’s desk. He walks over and bends down.

“Someone has left you some food. You should eat,” Henrik finally says.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have not eaten in a while, you must do so before you faint from hunger and dizziness. I will warm up your food.” Henrik rubs his hands together and hovers them over the food. Chase stares incredulously. He didn’t know Henrik could do that.

“Uh, it’s alright, I’ve already had enough.”

“Your diet and nutrient history says otherwise.”

“Smartass.”

“Your food is warm now. Enjoy your meal.” Henrik stands up and backs up to let Chase sit down and eat. Chase refuses to move.

“You must eat, Chase. It is not healthy to neglect your stomach and diet. You will not feel well and any task you put your mind to will be finished inadequately.”

Chase sighs and sits down, taking the fork and stabbing his omelette with it, then shoving it in his mouth. He glares at Henrik. “Happy?”

“Are you happy?” Henrik shoots back, face neutral as always.

Marvin would have stormed out in frustration by now, Jackie would have left to let him cool down. Jameson would have sat down to read, staying only to make sure Chase finished his meal, a look of annoyance on his face. In the months that Chase has seen the robot awake, Henrik has never shown any emotion. He never told Jack, but it unnerves him to no end.

“No? Yes? I don’t know,” Chase says.

“How does the food taste?” Henrik asks.

“It’s alright,” Chase says, moving on to the bacon. “You want some?”

“I am a robot. I cannot eat,” Henrik reminds him. Henrik smiles for the first time. Chase relaxes a little. Maybe he does have emotions.

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you,” Chase says.

“I am a robot. I cannot be offended,” Henrik says.

Chase can’t help but laugh. It startles him a little. He hasn’t laughed in a while. Henrik tilts his head in confusion. His expression only makes Chase laugh more.

The door suddenly swings open and Jackie, Marvin and Jameson all run in.

“We heard a bang, are you alright?” Jameson signs, worried. Chase nods, still laughing.

“Oh, you’re smiling again, Chase. I haven’t seen you smile in such a long time,” Marvin remarks.

Jackie observes Henrik, who gives him a quick look and says, “I sense your temperature is higher than normal. Are you feeling well?”

“Absolutely…” Jackie responds, only half-paying attention. “Chase, who is this?”

“Henrik, Jack’s robot that he’s been working on. He’s a robotic nurse.”

“I am equipped with over 1000 healthcare procedures and protocols. Jack made me in the hopes of helping people access quicker healthcare,” Henrik explains.

“He looks amazing!” Jameson exclaims. “It’s amazing what mankind can do with technology!”

Henrik watches as Jameson lifts his arm up to examine him. “Your neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are happy.”

“I am!” Jameson says. “Wait, how does he know sign language?”

“Jack programmed me to understand up to 100 languages, including BSL, your current language,” Henrik says.

“Amazing! Imagine how many people Henrik can help!” Jameson cries in delight, clapping his hands.

“How did he get in your room? I thought he was back at the workshop,” Marvin says.

“Jack brought him home because they needed space,” Chase says. “Our own garage was filled with my own project, so I let him take my room for the meantime.”

“Where is Jack?” Henrik suddenly asks. “He is usually with me when I am awake.”

The atmosphere in the room immediately sullens. Chase sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

“He’s... in the hospital,” he says.

“Is he alright? When will he return?” Henrik asks.

“When he wakes up. He’s in a coma.”

“Oh.” Henrik’s face remains neutral. Chase scowls at the robot’s lack of emotion.

“Yeah.”

“I am sorry to hear that. But with patience and enough healing, I am sure he will awaken,” Henrik says.

“That’s what the doctors keep telling us,” Marvin says, hugging himself.

Henrik walks over to the computer and puts his hand on it. His glasses project a screen and images fly by.

“What are you doing?” Jackie asks.

“I am downloading information on comas and its effects on both patients and family members of patients,” Henrik says. “Information dictates that visiting the patient regularly can help improve the probability of the patient waking up.”

“I know that,” Chase says. “I’ve been doing that all week.”

“Physical and verbal reassurance can help loved ones cope with the current state of the patient,” Henrik continues. He crosses over to Chase and hugs him, the movement stiff but welcoming. Chase awkwardly leans into the hug.

“Everything will be alright. There, there,” Henrik soothes, patting his head. Chase chuckles.

“Thanks, Henrik. It’s appreciated.”

Henrik nods and pulls away. “If there is anything else you need, I will be nearby. But for now, I cannot deactivate until you say you are satisfied with your care.”

“Already? You just woke up,” Jackie protests.

“I do not see a reason for me to be here at the very moment. I am simply taking up space.”

Jackie’s heart sinks a little for the robot. Even though Henrik meant it in very different circumstances, Jackie can’t help being reminded of the thousand times his human friends have said that. He gently grabs the robot’s arm.

“Why don’t you stay out a little longer? We’d love to give you a tour of the house,” he suggests.

Chase raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Will that help improve your mental state?” Henrik asks.

“Maybe?” Jackie says. The other shrug.

Henrik blinks. “Alright then. Lead the way.”

Jackie walks out, Marvin and Jameson following behind him. Henrik begins to exit, but hesitates when he sees Chase remain where he is.

“Are you not coming?” Henrik asks.

“I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen the house before.”

“Some exercise and fresh air will improve your health, both physically and mentally.”

“You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“Come outside, Chase. Today’s weather is a high of 20 degrees with sunshine. You might enjoy it.”

Chase sighs and stands up, taking the plate with him. “Coming.”

Henrik smiles once more. “Good.”

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing​, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans​​,  @the-pastel-kitsune​, @bupine,  @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix​, @milo-kno​​, @pixelpixie-pix​​, @why-killed-markiplier​

[wangxiandecoded]

Episode 10

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Going to draw a heart over Wangxian to keep track of every time the camera shows someone third wheeling them from now on.

Wei Ying uses his Binding/Bonding talisman on Xue Yang to show Lan Zhan it’s a dynamic tool that doesn’t deserve to be named “Boring”. Even though there’s a serial killer on the loose, Lan Zhan’s opinions on his inventions matter a lot to him. Standard Wei Ying stuff.

Wangxian’s Mirrors

At this point of the show, I could not believe there was a couple who directly mirrored Wangxian. And surprise! They were two men who dressed in black and white and came together for their common vision exactly like Wangxian did. Wei Ying cannot help but connect the dots and Lan Zhan is already aware of their eminence.

Xue Yang Fancies The Yiling Laozu 

Xue Yang’s introduction makes the story take a darker turn but also a gayer one. The homoerotic subtext between him and Wei Ying literally jumps out of the screen.  

(This episode had a lot of moments that were just begging for alternate dialogues to be written. I just wanted to have fun with the subtext that’s already present.)  

Wei Ying doesn’t want Lan Zhan to waste his precious breath interrogating the bad guy. He protectively steps up (something he does quite a lot) and puts some distance between the both of them.

But he wants Lan Zhan to hold his sword while he does that.. and if that act wasn’t necessarily considered to be intimate or romantic before, it just became that after Lan Zhan refused to do it in front of everyone.

Wei Ying has uttered many conspicuously gay things on the show but most of them are with reference to Lan Zhan. Therefore, this is possibly the gayest dialogue he has ever said in a strictly non-Lan Zhan context.

His tone is all, “Honey, you've been existing for 5 minutes, I'm the queerest person the cultivation world has seen in a millennium. You think frisking a guy is going to make me feel scandalized?” This is nuts to me because Xue Yang is arguably the most blatantly coded gay character on the show.. and here is Wei Ying all but saying he can outgay him. That he shouldn’t come after his job. And Lan Zhan just looks like..

It is curious how Lan Zhan says no to something that would require Wei Ying to go near Xue Yang again.

We get it, Lan Zhan. It was hard to see your guy giving attention to someone who wasn’t you.

When Lan Zhan is unsure what's happening back home, the first person his eyes seek is Wei Ying, his source of strength and reassurance.

SongXiao Help WangXian Fall Deeper In Love

Wei Ying is euphoric to meet another pair of Soulmates™. (The same kind of glee that queer people feel when they meet a celebrity queer couple.) His relationship with Lan Zhan just gained supreme validation and a boost to the power of infinity!

He sees everything he has with Lan Zhan reflected in SongXiao’s relationship. He admires them and is delighted that people like them who aren’t concerned with clan drama can walk the wider path of justice, and also lead successful, honourable lives. He looks to Lan Zhan for confirmation but Lan Zhan doesn’t seem too eager to publicize the super sweet promise they made at the lantern ceremony or the fact that he’s been secretly enjoying Wei Ying’s companionship on this expedition. And let’s be honest, it would’ve been more shocking if Lan Zhan did confirm any of that here.

Cheer up, Wei Ying! Lan Zhan will get plenty more opportunities to prove his love for you and he'll ace every single one of them.

No one asked for this but thank you NHS for declaring your ideal type is beautiful gentlemen who fight crime together and unapologetically go their own way.

The parallels between the two pairs write themselves. More importantly, it is while watching SongXiao leave together that Lan Zhan stumbles onto an epiphany.

This is such an underrated moment in the show. The sorrowful music and slow-motion shot of Lan Zhan looking at Wei Ying with vulnerability all over his face once again drives it home that Wei Ying is The One for him, and he is his. He was already getting tired of denying that Wei Ying is his soulmate in every sense there is, and he feels his pain and sadness in this moment. It is enough for Jiang Cheng to feel sorry for him and move on but not for Lan Zhan who feels all that his soulmate feels. 

It is overwhelming and brand new information to Lan Zhan himself that he can feel it because Wei Ying is not in impending danger right now, so this need he feels to protect him and be there for him can only mean that he loves him beyond the shadow of a doubt. Wei Ying seems upset thinking about his mother and Lan Zhan gets it, without Wei Ying having uttered a word the whole time. His face shows a kind of defeat in this scene; he surrenders to everything he has known and felt for some time now : He's in love with Wei Ying and would tear down the universe without a second thought if it means it would rid him of his unhappiness. And he isn't able to do that in this moment. But thanks to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, he’s found comfort in the truth they have each other at the end of the day, even if they have nothing left in this world. He cannot give back to Wei Ying what he has lost but he can accompany him in his sadness, and it will have to be enough. And it is, because Wei Ying can overcome just about everything as long as Lan Zhan walks by his side.

Wei Ying Says Lan Clan Deserves Rights

Wei Ying has many nice things to say about the Lan clan who he found exhausting a few months ago. Love brings about miraculous changes in a person, y’all.

Wei Ying gravitates towards Lan Zhan as if it's second nature to him and it really is.

Jiang Cheng spends a lot of time trying to get Wei Ying to spill the Top Secrets about the Yin Iron and Wei Ying is like, "Sorry, I’m bound by the Soulmate laws to tell you absolutely nothing."

Wei Ying is already embracing the idea of controlling the Yin Iron and people are rightfully getting offended by his suggestion.

What did you expect, Wei Ying? Not everyone is your lifetime confidant to give you the benefit of the doubt and reciprocate it with compassion, trust and open-mindedness.

Wangxian’s Temporary Separation

What was that, Wei Ying? Did we hear you admit that the Gusu Lan roof is softer than the one in Qinghe? Could this have anything to do with a certain law enforcer in Cloud Recesses you fell in love with at first sword fight? 

There is a delicate, bittersweet air to this separation, and even the casual watcher is going to be wondering, “When did I get so invested in Wangxian that WuJi makes me want to cry?”

It's cute how Lan Zhan is like, “Okay, I’ve seen the love of my life for one last time, I’ll quietly take my leave so he doesn’t know I was waiting for him to come back.”

Turns out, "I'll sleep on your roof tonight," is one of the most romantic things we could tell the person we love. Isn't it brilliant that just few seconds ago Wei Ying had said he will take whatever ground he finds as his home for the night, and how utterly beautiful is it to have followed it up with this dialogue? “Lan Zhan, I'll sleep on your roof tonight.” Because the world is big but my home is wherever you are. That’s where I’m happiest, I'll sleep on this rugged roof and walk through thorns if it means I get to be by your side. I won't mind it at all. And how unbelievably romantic is it that Wei Ying makes a philosophical statement about life, which ends up being about Lan Zhan?

Lan Zhan hears the implications in his voice. And he openly yearns to stay behind a little longer and commit to his memory what Wei Ying looks like when he is drunkenly proclaiming his love for him under the moonlight. It is pleasantly surprising that Lan Zhan is willing to express his emotions when he knows he is safe from Wei Ying hearing them, that he doesn't mind telling him goodbye when he thinks Wei Ying won't remember it. 

But the audience can hear his voice and we are going to remember it. How, "Wei Ying, I have to go," is uttered in a cadence so sweet we did not know Lan Zhan was capable of before this. And the choice of words do not simply mean that he’s going to leave, but that he has to, and most certainly not because he wants to. And how it really means, “I’m worried about everything, but especially you, and I'm sorry I have to go. I have to trust that we'll both be okay on this path. Please know that I don't wish to leave you, and forgive me for it. Wei Ying, I love you."

Even their temporary separation hurts so good. If they were meant to be best buddies, this scene wouldn't have been shot so poignantly. But we got used to seeing them together and every frame is designed to dig deeper into your heart and instil the fact that these soulmates are parting, and we don’t know when they’ll see each other again. This is the melancholy of a man who does not wish to be away from his lover but is forced to for the sake of the greater good. Anyone can see that.

The rooftop and moonlit night come as a callback to their first meeting, only Lan Zhan no longer wants to point the tip of his sword at Wei Ying, it gives him far greater satisfaction to place Wei Ying behind his sword.

I haven’t counted the number of times people acknowledge Wangxian’s relationship and/or know that they are inseparable, but it’s safe to say almost every character does that at some point. And some even know how to exploit their weakness, that in order to hurt one of them, the surefire way is to simply aim for the other like Wen Chao does here.

To summarize, Episode 10 saw Lan Zhan showing us his true colors : When he isn’t occupied with being the esteemed, intimidating Lan Wangji, he’s busy being a regular, sweet, romantic guy in love. And Wei Ying did that. He single-handedly exposes the soft side of Lan Zhan that nobody sees to the audience now and the world later on. 

This episode also gave us this : Two soulmates chilling shoulder to shoulder zero feet apart because they’re falling in love.

[blacknailpolishonguitarstrings]

Vintage tee..

The wind howled behind the fogged-up windows of Gryffindor Tower, hissing and rushing. The Common Room was bathed in the warm, golden, glow of slowly dying scarlet and amber flames in the fireplace, painting mystical shadows across the stone walls. The figures woven into the tapestries decorating the room sat unusually still, probably asleep already, just like the golden-maned unicorn who lay peacefully at the feet of the lady with the red rose. Silence reigned in the room, interrupted only by the crackling of the logs and the scratching of Sirius’ quill on his parchment, while minutes ticked by on the grandfather clock standing next to one of Godric Gryffindor’s many portraits, empty at current times.

“Merlin’s bollocks!” He swore all of a sudden, slamming down his quill. “Why must it always be so bloody cold here?”

“You now have a broken quill, very smart of you,” said an amused voice behind him.

Sirius gasped, startled, and knocked over his ink bottle.

“And now you also have a stained Transfiguration essay, Minnie will be delighted tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Remus, for always being such a wonderfully supportive friend, I don’t know what I would do without you,” muttered Sirius sarcastically.

“Oh come on, quit grumbling Pads, I swear, you do nothing else these days,” Remus continued teasing, coming up behind him.

He rested a hand on the back of the sofa where Sirius sat amidst scattered parchments and books, painfully close to his shoulder. Close enough, at least, for his heartbeat to quicken immediately, and he thanked Merlin he seldom blushed, or else, he was sure, a deep, hot, red flush would be creeping up his neck now.

“ ‘Am not,” he replied peevishly.

“You are such a child sometimes,” said Remus, swinging his long legs over the sofa and settling down next to him, folding them under him like he always did.

And again, Sirius couldn’t help but notice, he was close to him, agonizingly so.

“What has you up so late anyway?” He asked, changing the subject, attempting fruitlessly to distract himself of the way Remus’ short brown curls seemed to be threaded with gold in the firelight, and the way his usually sharp, bony features softened in the dim light.

“Couldn’t sleep, the full moon is approaching and as you already know I always feel restless on these days,” he answered lightly, but his tone held a certain snappiness, barely perceptible.

“I’m sorry, Moony,” whispered Sirius, desperately wanting to touch him, offer him some sense of comfort, but not daring to, afraid of betraying his inner feelings.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” he waved it off, yet a certain tension had settled in his jaw.

Quietness settled between them, not exactly uncomfortable, but still hanging awkwardly in the air, waiting to be filled with all the untold words running through their minds. Sirius stared blankly at his essay, trying to concentrate, but the words swam before his eyes, blurring and mixing, not a single piece of information staying in his busy mind. Remus just watched the dying embers very carefully, as if trying to avoid doing or saying something, while the gusts of wind kept shrieking in sporadic spurts behind the tightly shut glass panels. Somehow though, Siris still felt cold, chilled to the bone, even below his jumper. He shivered. Wordlessly, Remus looked at him briefly, an odd, dark spark flashing in his honey brown eyes speckled with green for a fraction of a second, before taking off his knitted wool cardigan and handing it to him.

“I’m not cold,” protested Sirius, trying very hard not to stare at Remus’ permanently slightly tanned skin and the silver scars crisscrossing across it, peeking from beneath his old, worn-out Pink Floyd t-shirt.

“Liar,” he replied, shoving it into his hands. “Just accept the help for once and don’t be so bloody stubborn, there’s nothing shameful about being cold, you know.”

“What about you though? Aren’t you going to freeze?”

“First of all, you’re exaggerating, it’s not freezing, it’s spring, it’s merely chilly. And second of all, no, I won’t, because I’m a werewolf and I’m always hot,” he said simply as if it were a universal truth.

“You have no fucking clue,” thought Sirius, a small ironic grin playing across his lips.

He remembered the exact day he realised he had fallen fast and hard for his best friend, that night last winter when he had appeared at the brink of death at the Potter’s. Remus had of course acted as any good friend would, but something about him struck him as different, yet he couldn’t quite place his finger upon it. In any case, the irrevocable truth of the butterflies fluttering in his stomach every time he was alone with him remained: he had a big, huge even, crush on Remus Lupin. And it was maddeningly infuriating.

With a defeated sigh, Sirius took the knitwear from Remus' warm hands, threading his fingers with the strings of dark green wool.

“It’s green,” he sneered.

“I thought this one was your favourite,” pouted Remus playfully. “You always steal it from me.”

“No, I don’t!” Exclaimed Sirius, making a falsely offended grimace.

“Yes, you do!”

“That was like...once!”

“Okay let me see: you stole it once from me when you were sick back in Third Year, then you took it that time we went hiking near the lake by the Potter’s house, you take it regularly and fall asleep in it in the Common Room, you—“

“Okay okay, I get it,” interrupted Sirius. “I’m sorry if it bothers you please tell me so.”

“No, no,” said Remus hastily. “It’s fine. You...you look...it looks good on you.”

He bashfully ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks tributes pink, and Sirius couldn’t help the rush of satisfaction that ran through his veins like electricity.

“Is that a compliment I hear? From you?”

“Oh come on Padfoot, don’t give me that look, you know you look good, you’ve got half of Hogwarts at your feet!”

“All I hear is that you find me gorgeous,” he smirked back, flipping his hair dramatically.

“Your ego is unbelievably enormous,” scoffed Remus.

“Besides, they’re not who I want…”

Oh shit, had he said that out loud?

“Really? And who are you interested in?”

Yep, he had. Bloody hell.

“That is a secret for me to know,” he replied, praying his voice did not waver and betray his inner turmoil.

“Interesting, in all the years I’ve known you no one has caught your attention for more than a few hours, she must be very special,” said Remus pensively.

Sirius wasn’t sure, but it was almost as if his voice carried a certain sadness.

“Who said it was a she, Moony?” He whispered, staring right at him, unconsciously counting every single freckle peppering his nose and cheekbones.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make any assumptions. Well,” he added, standing up. “I think I’m gonna head back to bed, good luck with your essay Pads.”

Disappointment filled him, he had hoped Remus would stay a little longer, but he ignored it, tugging absentmindedly at the already-frayed cuffs of his friend’s cardigan, too big for him.

“Sleep well, Moony,” he mumbled, too distraught to look him in the eye.

Remus nodded and went back up the stairs.

“If only you knew it was you,” mumbled Sirius to himself, watching him go.

He never heard Remus’ barely perceptible whisper:

“You have no idea how much I wish whoever it was I, instead of whoever it is.”

[waywardfangirl]

For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

[patchies]

Shadows

Pairing: Dream x Reader x ???

Summary: An apocalyptic world where creatures of the night roam all around it. Searching for living beings to satisfy their hunger. Vicious creatures they are. It’s said that one person called upon their wrath in revenge. You awake in this place with another human being at your side. No memories whatsoever of the life you’ve had prior to coming here. In search of a way out, and your memories, you stumble upon multiple people with many personalities. Some can’t wait to meet you. If you take it the friendly or hostile way is up to you, but worry not... Nothing can hurt you. Or can it, now?

Warnings: depictions of gore

Word Count: 1.8+k

Author’s Note: This story is heavily inspired by a dream I had around two months ago and it pushed me into writing it. I haven’t ever thought that I would be writing and publishing a story. Let alone in English since it’s very far from my mother language, but I have to admit I like it way more. As I am pretty proud of it, I’ve decided why not just try? This story is not going to be updated very frequently as I hardly find time and motivation, but I have the whole story mostly planned out and I have plenty of ideas for it! There are 7 chapters written altogether as of now and I will try to update at least once a month. I’ve started writing longer chapters from the 6th and those will take longer to finish, but I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it!

Wattpad link: here

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Chapter 1: The Awakening

Your eyes are met with complete darkness, unable to perceive your surroundings. The creepy, dusty and smoggy atmosphere isn't making you any less uneasy and confused either. Quite the contrary, actually. An unbelievable sickening feeling takes over your stomach and a great migraine is ever so present. Steering your thoughts to completely different places than they're supposed to. You feel the rapid thumping of your heart and panic floats in your head.

It takes you a few minutes until your dilated pupils get used to the blackness, but when they do, you're able to see the outlines of some demolished furniture. Upon fixating more on your surroundings, you distinctly spot the torn plain green wallpaper and empty broken picture frames hanged up on the wall. The tattered blinds covering the cracked windows tell you it's night and you seem to have gained consciousness in the middle of it.

Though, when you attempt to rethink through your day and previous whereabouts, you come up blank. Something like a heavy fog restrains your memories. A metaphorical lock put around it to secure them away from your conscious mind. As much as you try to concentrate on the past, you're left with nothing. It doesn't only leave you grasping for the forgotten past, but it makes you feel stranded and gasping of any, and very needed, recollection.

A sharp inhale of air makes your head rapidly turn in the direction of the sound and squint your eyes. You can hardly see the body of the person. The dark corner makes it difficult to focus, yet the figure still seems to take notice of you instantly, “Who are you…?”

Speaks up a very groggy voice and you can deduce their voice is coming from the shadows. Utterly hidden by the dark abyss. It sounds masculine, so you leave it at that, not taking too much interest in finding out any more information about the strange human. He seems to be in the same situation as you, but you still decide to be cautious around him. He's only a stranger to you, so you aren't going to blindly trust him. After all, stranger-danger is a rule, right?

You choose to stay guarded for now.

“Why does it matter to you?” You harshly reply. There really isn't anything to go off when it comes to his personality and intentions. As much as you'd like to be happy about seeing another human being, you don't know in what situation you are stuck in and you aren't the stupidest, neither the smartest, in the world. You'd rather stay cautious than die, “I'm surprised you have the audacity to speak to me even though you're obscuring your identity from me.”

“Well, if I tell you my name, will you tell me yours?” The stranger suggests, but you're inclined to not let him get through you.

“It doesn't matter to me. All I want is to get out and find whoever brought me here,” you simply say, “or search for my way home. That, doesn't have to involve you, nor your help.”

You turn your back to his voice, brushing him off with your words. Fixating your sight on the few boxes scattered throughout the room. You're sure he can feel your annoyance, but it's valid. He's making non-significant propositions, which is honestly irritable.

“I could help you. We could have each other's back.”

“What have I just said?” You inquire with an annoyed tint, “You have nothing of value to offer me, and you can't even step out of the shadows.”

With that said you slowly start to stand up from your position and look around for a possible exit. The floorboards creak under your weight as you step from foot to foot. The first thing that comes to your mind is to head straight for the windows for some unknown reason. Upon taking several steps to the blinds, you hear the stranger's footsteps echo. Your feet leisurely continue, but you're tempted to check behind you, therefore you do. Just in case he proves to have any malignant tendency.

There's still no silhouette of the other human, hence why you can't confirm what kind of a movement he's executed. With that done, you turn your head back and concentrate on the task at hand.

Once you get close enough to pull the blinds open, a loud screeching noise travelling throughout the whole street alerts both you and your companion. Blood pumps through your body at faster pace and you begin to be sceptical at heart upon hearing the scream of an unidentified creature.

“What the hell was that sound?” You can hear a slight waver in his voice. Presumably from not being able to decipher the inhuman noise from outside.

It didn't seem to scare you as much as it scared him. Although you did flinch back from the window, your guard has stayed high nonetheless the fright you experienced.

You shrug, but after realising he cannot possibly see you very well, you give him a response, “How am I supposed to know? Do you think I'm a witch?”

“Uh– yes and no?” After those words leave his mouth, your head turns to what you assume is his direction and give him a nasty glare. Offended thoughts swim in your head along with the throbbing pain of a headache.

A relatively loud scoff escapes your mouth and you fixate him with a harsh look.

You're sure he's going to die by either your hands, or he'll serve as sacrifice to the creature.

“You've chosen your destiny now, man.”

The scoff that leaves his mouth this time tells you that he's against the idea or he just plainly thinks you're joking. Either way, he's sold his soul by saying those words.

Cutting the conversation off, you finally get to glance outside the window, and you yell out a curse, which is enough to let the thing outside know of your existence. In the matter of seconds, it flies to your window and starts banging against it. It's long arms slam the panels with surprisingly little force. You fall back and try to scramble to your feet as quickly as you can. Can't go around risking your life even upon seeing the strength of the shadowy figure.

The man, who has chosen to stay anonymous up until now, decides against his better judgement to flee on his own to help you up. It doesn't show much strength, but the window already adores quite a few cracks, so you don't think it'll hold up for long.

“Just hurry up!”

As soon as you're stabilised and on both of your legs, you book it to the door. At first, the handle doesn't let you open them, but after a few sharp tugs it gives out and you fall to the floor again. You let out a curse once more, supporting your body on your forearms and stand up. The stranger only snickers behind you.

You stay silent and get your thoughts and clumsiness together.

“Here! We could hide in one of the other rooms!” He hurriedly tries to tug you to the direction he's talking about, but you don't budge. You can't take any risks when you don't know the house's layout and the person in front of you.

“I don't think it's a good idea,” you ponder over your thoughts, but after you hear glass being shattered, you run to another room and to the closest closet you can find. Completely disregarding the terrified look the man threw your way. You duck to the ground as hastily as you can and cover your mouth just in case. Soon wooden boards start creaking in the hallway and, even though you wished the man would be a sacrifice, you hope he's found a safe place and survives this monstrosity.

A rather loud groan is heard somewhat close to you and you peek through the small gap in the closet doors to see a rather disturbing view. One that you wish you haven't.

The creature has found a dead rat (rather beheaded the poor creature beforehand?) and is holding it to its bloody mouth now. Multiple sharp teeth sink over and over into the freshly killed animal, happily munching on the treat. It's turned sideways to you, so you can very clearly see all the contents of the rodent's body as it eats it. It's guts and blood spilling everywhere on the floor and on the demon itself.

You shudder, avert your eyes, and just look at your curled-up knees. ‘What in the name of hell have I just witnessed?’

It takes less than ten minutes to finish its fiesta and you can see the unidentified creature turn to smoke from your peripheral vision. It stays in that form and floats out of the room and you guess it leaves out the window it broke.

Silent tears start to fall down your eyes and you honestly aren't surprised. The whole encounter was traumatic to say the least. To you, it was as if you were the protagonist in a horror movie, being hunted down by some unknown force. Except this is real life that we're talking about. Your life is currently put at stake and you don't want to die so early. Be at the hands of the creature or some other mythical thing.

This won't be the worst thing to happen to you, Reader.  Or will it, now?

Was that demon chasing somebody before I yelled out?

It had seemed to be occupied by something else before you got startled by its presence on the little roof below the window. You can still remember the soulless holes for eyes staring in your direction vividly.

Was it me luring it to us? Could there be more people?

You sit there, contemplating the event that has just happened, for what seems to be forever. Blank stare put onto your hands as you cry and your body succumbs to total numbness. That is until the closet door creak open, forcing you to look up.

There stands a man of average height with messy brown hair. You notice just now how he exactly looks upon not having that much time to do so an hour (was it?) ago.

His eyes convey an emotion close to yours, which is utter fear and confusion. He silently offers you his hand and you gladly, albeit shakily, take it. He pulls you out the door and towards another room with a dusty and an almost broken bed, pulls you into his lap and tucks your head into his neck. Letting you quietly cry while he gently runs his hand across your back. You don't even care a stranger has you in his lap. He lets you cry until you have no more tears running down your cheeks.

Your guarded feelings towards the man begin to crack amidst the comfort you crave right now.

When you're done, you both can't get yourselves to break the silence. You’ve distanced yourself from him, but you both are too afraid to even utter a word and accidentally lure the creature back in. Although, he decides to break it with a small whisper and with an attempt of a comforting smile.

“Do you mind sharing your name with me now?”