#this is what makes a talented writer stand out amongst other talented writers

[sharry-arry-odd]

Sam said she drove like she was playing Tetris.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin

[fraugwinska]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 🎃 Jesus, today is a day of Uploads! xD I have to upload a buttload of more stuff, so bear with me! I didn#t think I'd finish on time - butt here it is! My take on Hazbin meets DBD! The Wheel of Misfortune gave me Angel to work with, and despite all odds, I wrote a story without SMUT! Can you believe it? :D The Masterlist can be found here - check out the works of all the other, talented writers and artists! It will be updated frequently, as Kinktober and other shenanigans came inbetween some of us and the deadline. But that only means we'll have fantastic fics and delicious drawings to look forward to! Thank you to everyone participating - for making this Event such a special one! You all are AMAZING! @redvexillum @ritualofcirice @chefskjssart @dewdropdinosaur @lumikello24

@macabr3-barbi3 @xalygatorx @melodyonthewireless @kewpikayo @jurijyuu

Warnings&Tags: Major Character Death, Pain & Torture, Physical & Psychological Abuse, Kidnapping/Abduction

Night. It was always fucking night.

Danny hadn't minded when the entity, whatever it was, had called on him. When the fog arrived, shortly after he left Roseville, he had embraced it, yeah, even felt giddy - he hated boredom, loved the thrill of the chase. And the realm the soundless voice promised him seemed to be a remedy for both. His old routine renewed by almost wickedly enhanced powers, his slaughters improved with every new, fresh meat hooked that he didn't care enough about to learn their names.

The first weeks the entity sent him alone into the woods in between trials. An unspoken pledge that once Danny has proven his worth, he'd join the others. Killers, like him, an arsenal of evil, depravity and death. He was intrigued by the prospect - acclimating in this environment was fun, but the real thing would be asserting himself next to legends like Myers or Krueger. So he did what he did best - Stalk and chase and kill, each new trial bumping up his adrenaline and fuck it was fun. Barely a trial went by where he didn't get the full set of kills, his reward plenty by the looming black thing above, sending him new powers and an overpowering sense of accomplishment. And if he missed one or two, the entity would soothe his flaring anger, the fog cold and calm on his skin when the world around him would collapse in fire and smoke - Don't worry about the pests that got away - There's next time, Danny Boy. And he always got them next time.

Finally he felt it - as the ground split in glowing reds and the heat took over the Autohaven, he felt the hot, dripping claws of the entity christen him. He had succeeded the trial by literal fire, and as he was pulled away, not north towards the lone patch of woods he had come to know, but south, the presence of evil growing bigger by the second, Danny left his old, useless name behind. The entity had given him a new one, one that he embraced with a laugh of euphoria: Ghostface.

***

While the survivors, as they called them so ironically, gathered around a campfire between trials, the hunters - killers, for a better term - were granted a real home. A shack in the same woods somewhere, filled with an Arsenal of weapons and tools for them to use as they pleased, and blood-stained, torn seats around a burning fireplace. Most of them lived in their own heads, some of them too animalistic to socialize. The ones that wanted to spend their times waiting together for ‘The Call’ on those seats, sometimes indulging in the strong, burning drinks the entity manifested along new blades or rods when she was pleased with them. And as all groups, the hunters, too, had a leader, as far as leaders can exist in a group of hungry wolves. Evan MacMillan was that one, although he, as most of the others, shed himself of that name when he became the Trapper. He was respected amongst both the vocal and silent, strong, calm and cold-blooded enough to keep brawls in between them to a minimum, one of the oldest and longest standing killers of the entity. But even he, after so many trials he had withstood, so many survivors he had killed through either the entity's hooks or his own hands, has never experienced anything like this before.

"Shit, come on, Bubba, get yourself together man." One of the Legions, Frank, clumsily patted the wailing monstrums back. The Hillbilly had never been able to speak more than just grunts and howls, making communicating with him often hard and frustrating, but the sounds he made now weren't hard to interpret - he, too, had just ended a trial with the new survivor. And as with a lot of them before, it wasn't the prey that had been scared and traumatized, but the predator.

The Nightmare took a swig of the last bottle of whiskey they had, hissing at the burn. "Can't blame the poor fuck - I've seen the dreams of that freak.... swear to god even I got nightmares after that."

"Frederick, pace yourself and leave some for the poor man." The Doctor chimed in, taking the bottle out of the sharp clawed hands and handing it to the Hillbilly with a mournful expression. "Only one chug, lad. Going at this rate, we might as well start to get accustomed to bread and water... She is not happy with us."

"Кто может винить ее? Мы все подвели ее с этим существом." (Who can blame her? We all have failed her with that creature.)

The Huntress threw another hatchet into a nearby wall, hitting the middle of the target she had painted with blood next to her previous four. Although her eyes were hidden behind the rabbit mask, Evan and the others could hear the sourness in her voice.

"Uhuh, sure, babe, whatever you say." Legion mumbled and rolled his eyes, handing the still sniffing Bubba a dirty rag to wipe his deformed nose with.

"Huntress is saying what we all think, Legion. We are failing. All of us." Evan sighed and brought one of his massive, rough hands up to wipe sweat from his temples. He knew the ropes of the entity's game, knew that some survivors had advantages, were more courageous or daring, even defiant. Evan was good, but not perfect, and he wasn't so far gone like some of the others to expect their victims to stay quivering, fearful messes like when they are freshly called upon. But the new one...

He... or it? Was so much more different than any survivor before him. Tall and lean, which would've normally make it so much harder to hide from them, flashy instead of discreet, loud and boastful instead of silent and secretive... human-like and yet so not-human at all.

"Ahhhh, another four for four, bitches!" The newcomer, Ghostface, as he had introduced himself, kicked open the door to the shack, his flowy robes drenched in blood and slimy mud that told Evan he'd been at Backwater Swamp. "Oh god, don't tell me Billy-Boy was too pussy to get over that new Survivor, too?"

The whole room growled at that remark, and Evan sighed in annoyance. The Ghostface had made more foes than allies in those few days he'd been sent to them as an addition to the entity's team of murderers. It wasn't that he was cocky, crude or obnoxious - they all were like that when they first came to the realm. What irked them all was the sense of superiority he wore so obviously on his sleeve, convinced that he was the entity's favorite, blessed by her dark energy and favored by her will.

"Fuck you, Ghostface, leave Bubba alone!" Legion spat, his facemask cracking with anger, while the Nightmare threw him a look of disgust and Michael, usually stoic and silent, turned his emotionless mask to its screaming counterpart, the blackened, hollow eyes almost flowing out with angered darkness. Evan wanted to shake the boy under the costume when he just laughed, the mockery blatant and offensive. "Are you guys telling me you, the creme de la creme of carnage, can't get a newbie under control?!"

The Trickster, who had been playing with his throwing blades with more than just an exasperated expression (which Evan could understand, given that his humiliating loss against the new survivor left too fresh of a wound in his ego), stood up with a hiss in the language none of them had been able to learn yet, but the Legion was faster, leaving Bubba in the care of the Wraith, stomping towards the cackling figure. "Listen, Fuckface - he asked the Spirit if she could give him tips about SHIBARI and yelled 'Harder Daddy' when the goddamn Executor tried to slam him into the ground... THAT'S NOT NORMAL!"

The Shape huffed in agreement, and the Nightmare added his own opinion in a raspy voice, scratching his distinctive scars around the face and neck: "I agree, he's fucking weird - insane, not scared of any of us. He doesn't even look like a normal survivor, and that's comin' from someone with that kinda face."

"That's a whole lot of words to say that you suck at your jobs, fellas." Ghostface retorted with a sneer in his voice, running his gloved fingers along his shining knife, the hilt still covered in blood spots but the blade pristine and almost glowing.

"Enough." Evan said, his voice booming across the room, effectively shutting the others up.

"You talk big, Ghostface. But you haven't had a trial with the one they call 'Angel' yet." Evan and the others felt the familiar cool wisps of air, harbingers of the arrival of the black fog for another trial. The Entity whispered the names of the prey into the winds - Evan had learned to listen for them long ago, and under his never-changing mask, he felt his lips pull into a rare smile. It was a gamble, risking to topple the weak chain of authority they had established among each other. But Evan felt that he wouldn't deserve the title nor the respect that came with being the leader if he would let this petty behavior and destructive jealousy continue. The favored one needed a well-deserved damper on his ego, and maybe the newest survivor - who- or whatever he was - could teach him that lesson. He stopped the Skull Merchant that had stood up to offer herself to take the trial with a wave of his bear-like hands and turned to the young killer, pointing his makeshift ax in his direction. "Maybe you are right. Maybe me and the others just don't have what it takes anymore to honor the Entity."

The silence that fell over the shack was heavy as the Entity's presence grew stronger, and Evan was sure the others could feel it, too, her excitement building up and electrifying the atmosphere surrounding the killer's shack. He ignored the burning fury in Legion's eyes, the angry scratch of Freddy's claws over moldy wood. The young man tilted his head in curious interest, letting his finger press into the edge of his blade until the leather broke and blood started to drip out of it in crimson pearls.

"Here's your opportunity. Show us, Ghostface, how you will fare against this new kind of prey."

***

"Oh my god, toots, move over, I can't watch this a second longer."

Angel rolled his eyes at the meek girl, brushing her dirty blonde hair out of her face as she let him take over. The other two were useless too - that Ace guy couldn't do shit even if his life depended on it - huh, which it literally did, now that Angel thought about it. And Renato was a sweet dude, a little too nerdy for Angel's taste, but he was still too rattled after his last trial with that hunk of a killer with the butt-stupid metal triangle head to be of any help except for maybe cleansing totems in between hiding in lockers. Angel couldn't blame him - he had seen how Sexy Back had Mori'd the poor dude, and it had not been the kind of gutted that Angel would've liked either. But Kate was a cool gal, a pretty face and too nice for her own good but normally very capable. She reminded him a little of Charlie, and the thought always stung faintly in his chest. Normally she would've rocked the generators, but for some reason, she was nervous and erratic this trial, her eyes always wandering around, looking over her shoulder every few seconds and fucking up the gen more than she repaired it. He let his second pair of arms grow out of his sides, cutting the time it took to finish the rest in half, and with a click the machine roared to life, steadily pumping electricity into the mainline for the exit gates. One down - four more to go.

"Jesus with a strap-on, Kate, I thought with what you look like you'd know how to get an engine going." He teased, but the girl didn't seem to even hear him, her eyes still scanning the dark woods behind them. "Sorry, Angel, sorry... it's just... don't you feel it?" "If you mean Big Mama's presence, then yeah. Pretty much hard to ignore with all the black claws and shit, but I've gotten used to it. Kinda feels like a well-worn, cheap training bra now." "No, not that... I think someone is watching us. Like... stalking."

Angel grabbed her arm and pulled her into some nearby bushes, the neon signs of the worn-down cinema blinking in the near distance. "Babes, 'ya know I can handle Mute Mikey. What I can't handle is you loosin' 'ya head now. Fuckin' Ace is hard enough to carry." They both crept along the sides of the forest nearer to the building. "It's not Michael... I can't explain... it feels different, like when Claudette told me..."

Whatever Claudette had told Kate - Angel wasn't about to hear it as Ace's screams of terror echoed through the forest from the other side of the entity's caged playground.

"Motherf... okay, 'ya go get that dumbass and heal up, imma find a gen and fuck it up so whoever it is will get distracted. Stay low, kay, sugartits?" Kate nodded with wide eyes, and ran into the darkness. Angel cursed that dumb fucker, finding a gen around a corner and let it misfire before he made a quick turn and went through the broken wall into the cinema show room of the Greenville Theatre. Fuck, a movie would be nice - watching one of making one, anything would be better than this. He silently went up the stairs into the storage room and began to work on the generator there.

Eyes on the goal.

Surviving wasn't what Angel saw as the goal. Even if he'd die in mommy's sick game, he knew from seeing the others revive at the campfire, only to be sent to another trial again a few moments later. Living or dying, Angel couldn't find himself to care, although he always chose to live, even if the others kicked the bucket and he was the last one standing. No, the goal was to get the fuck out of that shitty nightmare Val had sent him into. 

Whatever he had fucked up with 'The Entity', it must've been huge because the last time he saw him he was barely alive even by hell's standart. His wings were ripped from his back, his insides hanging out of a fat gash on his side and the studio a chaotic mass of fire, smoke and debris. And in all of it stood she. 

Roo. 

That's what Val had called her anyway, that bitch in edgy clothes and with those manic eyes, smiling in such a terrifying, blinding way with teeth sharp as an excorcist's blade that Angel thought just that smile could smite an army of sinners if she wanted to.

"Roo... I can expl...ain." Val had stuttered, blood running freely out of his mouth drenching his words.

"No need, Valentino. You and the other Vee's went all in with chips out of my own pocket, and you lost. And I don't like losing my stake."

She had summoned black, claw-like spikes, writhing like insects towards a panicking Val. He stumbled two steps back, noticing Angel creeping away, towards the crumbled wall, the running masses and the open streets of the Pentagram. Angel had seen Charlie and Vaggie forcing their way towards the burning ruins. And Husk. His Husk, wings outstreched and he was fucking flying over them all towards Angel. He had never seen him fly before.

"You can... Take! T...TTake him!!!" Val had screamed, falling to his knees as he pointed to Angel, coughing red and black onto the formerly pink, tacky tiles. His words sent a wave of hate and fear through Angel, and his eyes went from Charlie's tear-stained face to Husk screaming his name as he flapped his wings to pick up speed and fell onto her. Smiling at him, one slender, white finger with a black, pointy nail pressed into her cheek. She watched the cat demon dodge a falling beam and looked... amused as her eyes found his. She winked.

"Fine, you'll do."

Before Angel could even breathe to say something, or run, black fog encapsulated him, and only her glowing white smile and Husk's distressed scream of his name followed him as he fell through the darkness.

No. Surviving was just a crutch, a means to an end. His goal was to get that bitch Roo. To find his way out of this fucking mess. Back home, back to the hotel, back to Charlie and Vaggie and Niffty and even Alastor.  And most importantly: Back to fucking Husk.

Almost done with the gen his head turned as he heard two sounds at the exact same time: The sound of another generator coming alive and Renato's pained cry. That stupid man... Instead of running, Renato most likely had stayed on the gen to finish it, sacrificing himself to be thrown onto a hook. Angel shook his head, trying hard to focus on connecting cables and switch out gears. The others could get him off. They had learned that he was best at two things: Getting gen’s to work and screw with the killers.

But apparently, no one came close to Renato in time - when Angel stood up from the now running machine, he felt the dreading boom of a successful sacrifice - Renato had been swallowed by the entity, and from the muffled screams and misfiring generators him he knew that Ace had been already hung up too, and Kate was at least injured, if not on her way to be hooked by this rounds killer. Another boom told him Ace had given up - that asshole had most likely struggled too much to get himself off instead of waiting for him or Kate, and lost the fight against Roo's hungry claws. Which left him and Kate, and two generators to open the exit gates - not the best odds, with how fast this Killer acted and how idiotically nervous the usually so assured girl fumbled with the generators. He could wait for Kate to die and go for the hatch, but Angel knew he wouldn't. Not for Kate. Not after seeing so much of Charlie in her.

He made a dash down the stairs and through the arcade room, peeking his head out and spotting Kate's limp body on a nearby meat hook, swaying gently in the breeze. next to her stood an unfamiliar, cloaked silhouette, twirling a knife skillfully in gloved hands. This fucker was new, someone Angel had never encountered before. But he had heard things about him. The guys around the campfire had been wary of him, but as usual, Angel quickly had most of the girls at least interested in and friendly to him, and from the latest conversations, he remembered Feng-Min and Claudette talking about a new killer, a stalker like Magic Mike but more real, more humanlike which made them even more terrified of him. Someone that, unlike the others Angel encountered, seemed to be almost casual and gleeful to have been wisped away and thrown into trials by Roo, treating the trials like a personal, fun game... and from what he heard, he always won them.

He looked around and found an old can. Quickly and noiseless, he snuck along the Arcade walls to the opposite doorway, and hurled it with as much force as he could into the woods, trying to hit a hook to make as much noise as possible. He heard the guy's quiet steps outside, quickly but silently rushing towards his distraction, and Angel grinned as he exited the arcade room and ran towards a groaning Kate.

"Shh, babe, we ain't got much time, that fucker's fast." Angel whispered, quickly working on patching Kate up so she wouldn't leave a bloody trail behind her. "Angel, he's too good, I can't..." "'Ya can. I'll handle tall, dark and gruesome, make sure he won't get near 'ya. But 'ya gotta do two gens, okay? Open the exit the furthest away from us and go. Don't wait up for me - I can handle myself." His sentence ended as he finished closing her wound, and he shoved her into some bushes after she hesitantly looked around. "Don't argue, just move your ass, toots, and hide till the creep's found me."

Kate nodded, giving him a weak smile and a hushed 'Thanks, Angel.' before she turned and vanished between the trees. Angel looked up, the dark clouds swirling above him as the entity's - Roo's - displeasure vibrated through the air. She always hated when he did things like these - helping the others (maybe it was the general idea of doing good deeds) and her getting pissed off make Angel smug and satisfied.

"Yeah, yeah, bitch, rage all 'ya want - Bite me."

Angel didn't even try to be decent, no, he not much less than swaggered in the direction of where he threw the can. It was quiet, except for the humming of the generator Renato must've finished, but no sign of the cloaked figure. 

“Gee, look at little old me! All alone in the woods, totally helpless. Such a shame.”

Angel discreetly traced for blood or maybe footprints as he rounded a nearby hook, trailing the cold metal with one finger. He had a feeling of being watched, and yet couldn't see anything but trees and grass and dirt. The fog was thicker here, and a shiver ran through him as he could feel a pair of eyes on him, watching, waiting.

“Where are ‘ya, daddy-o? Baby lost his pacifier and needs something else to suck on…”

A quiet whir behind him made him turn and grab a lean and muscular arm, stopping the blade just mere inches away from his side. He stared not into a face, but a mask - a white, cheap looking rubber one, a white face with two black holes that looked like they were melting and a long, equally black mouth open as if in a blood-curdling scream. Angel cackled and tugged the arm, the killer surprised by his unexpected strength, stumbling forward until his head hit the hard, rusty metal of the meat hook.

"Uuuuh, what a nice long blade 'ya have, hot stuff." he cooed, putting his hands on his hips with a smirk as the cloaked figure whipped around with a grunt. "But if 'ya want to rearrange my guts, I know other things than a knife that are way more fun."

"You're a mouthy one, huh?" His voice was rough and saturated with aggravation. Young, not as young as the Legion fuckers, but younger than most of the killers Angel had met.

"Oh, daddy, 'ya don't know half of what my mouth can do. Care to find out?"

Angel dodged and tripped him as the killer pounced forward, quick but not inhumanly quick - interesting. His height was human, his voice too, his mannerisms, his motions, his speed and his abilities... not supernatural. Not like the other killers at all. He used the second of his weak momentum to lock the already twisting figure between his legs, pinning him on the waist into the dirty ground. Angel laughed as his upper pair of hands had the gloved wrists in a tight grasp, while he let his second pair of arms grow out of his sides to ram the fallen knife blade-first into the ground. In the distance, he hears a generator pop into life - Kate was doing her part, one more to go. Good girl.

"Fuck, you... survivors are not supposed to fight back." the stranger growled, squirming under him.

"Dang it, I forgot - we oughta run from 'ya! And 'yer supposed to kill me, right? And yet, here we are, handsome."

Through the layers of ragged, black clothes and cloak, Angel could feel a tight, muscular but lean body - hot, but definetly normal. Not bulky like the trapper dude, not slimy like the running Melty-face or cold and eerie feeling like the Ding-Dong-Douche. As the figure under him bucked again, he could also feel something else that was entirely human and he had to surpress a laugh.

"Ohooooo, daddy, is that a dagger in 'ya pants or are 'yay just happy to finally meet me?"

With a hot fury the killer ripped his hands free, planting a fist directly into his fluffy chest with surprising force. With a breathy sound that was half cough and half wheeze, Angel's grip around the young man's waist weakened, enough for the cloaked man to throw him off. Angel could hear a rib break at the sudden punch to his side - motherfucker, that would be a bitch to heal after the trial. As he propped himself back on his arms, the cool, dirty steel of his own knife's blade touched his throat and forced his gaze upwards to meet the mask's holes.

"Enough with the goddamn nicknames. I'm fucking Ghostface, and you better remember that name as you'll scream it when I'm done with you."

Jesus, that new guy made it too easy for him.

"Mmmmh... Kinky."

Decades of whipping around poles and fucking every porn actor pride had to offer - twice - had one or two good things going for Angel. Bendy as he was, and with strong, long legs he had no problem to just pull one of them forward and ram the pointy heel of one of his overknee boots straight into Ghostface's balls, leaving his captor sputtering and writhing while Angel pushed backwards to stand upright. He sauntered towards the disoriented man, kicking the knife further out of reach and looked at him with both pity and amusement as the last generator went off, and the blaring sirens of an exit gate about to be opened echoed through the forest. Kate was near - too near for Angel's taste, but it had to do.

"A'ight, Ghost Daddy, that's my cue. Me and Katie are gonna fuck off, was fun though, 'ya might get the hang of the whole killer thing if 'ya keep practicing."

"We'll see about that, Angel-Cakes."

Angel-Cakes.

The name echoed in his head like a bad spell, a curse. Fucking Roo must've fed him that fucking pet name, these dreaded words that Valentino had always used, along with his intoxicating pheromone smoke that had left him dizzy and weak-willed too many times to count. Using the moment of his stunned stupor, Ghostface flipped around, getting up with a speed Angel didn't deem possible or had accounted for, and rammed his elbow into his face before he started running - not to go for his blade that laid aside about four feet away or the trembling Angel, but straight for the woods. Straight for the opening exit gate. Straight for Kate.

Angel's eyes widened as a dark, content thunder roared from above - that bitch. That stupid bitch and her fucking new toy.

With a dizzy head he ran after him, wheezing from the pain in his face and stomach. There was Kate, screaming as she saw Ghostface coming, charging at her, her knuckles white from the tight grip on the lever to the saving exit. He could see her legs tense and start to bend to take off and make a dash to flee, to maybe hide, and before he could think any further, Angel lunged forward, using a tree as leverage to throw himself forward and tackle the approaching killer to the ground. There were gloved hands and black fabric everywhere, furiously trying to get him off, entangling in his limbs and his fluff and his hair, but Angel didn't care. He knew now what Roo wanted - had wanted all along. He had played her game exactly how she had wanted him to play it without realizing - Surviving the trials and saving his own ass. Good deeds upset her.

"Don'tcha let go of that fucking lever, Kate!" Angel shouted, feeling his head pulled by his hair back into his neck. Ghostface punched, pulled and clawed at anything he could find of him, but Angel held onto the fighting frame - today would be the first day he'd die in a trial. And that was exactly what Angel wanted. The signature bell sound of the dooms clock went off as Angel heard the heavy gates slide open. In the mess of his wrestling with the cursing killer he caught a glimpse of Kate, her eyes fixated on him as she started to run towards him. Her expression, her eyes... they had almost the same look in them like Husk's when Roo had pulled him away. Determined to get to him. Desperate to help him.

"NO KATE, GO!" he screamed, and was awarded another painful punch into his face and his hair pulled even further, but he didn't let go, even when tears started to wet his face, and Ghostface's laugh mingled with Kate's distressed shouts and cries as he felt cold, hard steel piercing his side. "FUCKING GO! NOW, DAMN IT!"

The earth shook with Roo's anger as the girl, sobbing his name, ran back and bolted through the gates into the nothingness. Finally, Angel let go of the heavy breathing killer. A twist of the knife and his arms gave out, his head falling next to Ghostface's masked face, only a small pool of blood escaping his lips.

"God fucking damn it - Fucking idiot, you ruined it. FUCK! What a pathetic excuse for someone called 'Angel'." The killer ranted with panicked rage, pulling on the slipped and oddly twisted mask that only clung to half of his face to pull it off and throw it on the ground with a frustrated growl as he got off him. Deep brown hair clung on his forehead from sweat, framing dead eyes with dark circles under them. His face was handsome, maybe even pretty, with sharp angles and a strong, set jaw that was locked in anger.

"Anthony."

The clock rang again, and the ground was breaking apart into deep red’s and black's.

"What the fuck did you say?"

The man stared at him, knife still in his hand as Angel smiled a bloodstained grin.

"My name, asshole. S'Anthony... Angel's the name my fucking pimp got me. Just like your stupid-ass one." He managed to throw the offended looking man before him a grin. "Can't tell me 'ya gave yourself such a lame-as-fuck name."

"You're pathetic. She honored me with that name - it's nothing like with you and your... pimp."

Angel laughed as he reached down to him with his black gloves to throw him over his shoulder. He didn't resist, no use in that anyway with the wound in his side, even if he wantted to. But Roo's anger was electrifying the air around him, she was upset in more than just one way. Not only had Angel found a way to get under her skin and sour her game - but it seemed that she was especially angry about the way her newest toy had handled this trial, and him.

"'Ya just wait, Ghost Boy. With folks like her and Val, they always show their real face, sooner or later. And I have a feeling 'ya gonna see for 'yaself real soon." ***

Ghostface's face was stoic and emotionless as he threw the skinny man on the hook. The world she had created was already crumbling - he was just in time. Three out of four wasn't bad, he knew that. But it wasn't just that he missed the perfect four. If she hadn’t helped him, he would've failed even more than he had. He felt her anger, her fury bubbling beneath the realm she created. Gone was the soothing aura and the gentle caress of her invisible fingers on his cheeks. All he felt was hot gushes of wind and unseen sharp nails scratching on his arms and neck. And for the first time, he feared the punishment.

"Danny." He said quietly, watching as the survivor's grin widened before the lights behind his unusual, unsettling eyes slowly disappeared. "I was Danny once."

The last words of Angel - no, Anthony - echoed in his head as the entity's claws ripped into the white and pink flesh of his victtim, pulling him up and ttowards the swirling clouds and the black fog, hot and scorching instead of cool and calming, wrapped around him and Ghostface fell - Not into the familiar darkness, but into a sea of fire, smoke and unbearable pain.

[bianmao]

Catwoman during the Golden Age of comic books

Reading list + reviews

#1 Batman (March 1940) issue 1: "The Cat"

I decided to read every Catwoman comic book in history and of course I'll start with Batman #1 where she makes her first appearence.

She is revealed as the well-known criminal of the underworld: The Cat, someone even Batman says he heard stories about. The moment we first meet Selina (aside from her strong personality) two things are clear to us about her... or three:

1) She is a great thief;

2) She is great with disguises;

... and,

3) Batman is a big simp for her.

I think we tend to forget just how good she is with disguises. We never learn "The Cat"'s true identity in this issue, just the fake identity she impersonated in this heist: Mrs. Peggs. With her great skills she manages to fool everyone on the yacht where this story takes place into believing she is just a harmless old lady.

On a side note, we also see a glimpse of her, let's say, modus operandi. We don't know exactly how she got in contact with Denny Travers, we don't know if he hired her or if "The Cat" herself, (interested in his aunt's necklace) found him, realized he was interested in it as well, and proposed a deal to get it together.

Either way we get to know a clever and beautiful young woman with a strong reputation amongst criminals in the Gotham underworld (entirely made up of men at this point) and great at her job, wether we are talking about stealing priceless emerald necklaces or hearts.

#2 Batman (June 1940) issue 2: "The Joker Meets the Cat-Woman"

This issue is, for some reason, less known compared to issues 1 and 3 but I still think it's very important for Catwoman's early characterization. Let's start by saying that this is the first time we see the name "Cat-woman" in her comic book history, that her master of disguise trait is still present and that we see her, once again, using a man to get what she wants... but the thing I want to focus on the most is her interaction with Robin and Joker.

I think that some writers (one in particular) working on recent comic books really need to read this issue instead of giving new readers the idea Catwoman and Joker ever had comic book history together. Catwoman was never nearly close to Joker's ideas or methods. Compared to every other villain introduced in these early issues, she really stands out for being a non violent, very talented thief, in no way a killer. She was this early ready, and without second thoughts, to give up her loot in order to save Robin's life. She is shown to be specially protective over Robin, doing her best to keep him safe until Batman's arrival. This almost motherly trait will appear again in future comics.

#3 Batman (September 1940) issue 3: "The Batman vs. the Cat-Woman"

We see more of "The Cat" and the way she works, either for herself or for the people who hire her, to whom she asks a quite generous share. We see how her excellent skills are making the police lose credibility and we realize that Gordon's hostility towards Catwoman has ancient roots.

The two most prominent things in this issue are Catwoman's first, let's call it "catsuit", ever seen in a comic book (although, for now, it's just a furry mask shaped to resemble a realistic cat's head) and the first kiss Batman and Catwoman share in their long and iconic relationship.

(By the way, you know, this is Batman's first kiss in general ever since Detective Comics 27)

#4 Batman (May 1942) issue 10: "The Princess of Plunder"

We jump to issue 10 to see the Catwoman in action once again, introduced for the first time with the title of "Princess of Plunder". This time The Cat has a name: Marguerite Tone and, posing as a hostess during high society events, has started an illegal business of lost and found items she would first steal from her guests and then return them in exchange of money. This issue highlights her cleverness in studying and executing her robberies, also thanks to the help of the first four henchmen we see working for her (the simple concept of a woman giving orders to men in the 40s is really special to me).

Even if this is just her fourth chronological appearance we already have the idea of a strong, clever woman who doesn't follow anyone orders and acts according to her personal wishes and ideas, other than being a good leader. But we also see a bit of her attraction and romantic interest towards the Batman and for a brief moment we see a, let's say, "preview" of the dilemma that characterizes her the most: does she really fit the "criminal" side of the spectrum?

It's also nice to see the second time in history Batman and Catwoman shared a kiss after Batman issue 3.

#5 World's Finest Comics (May 1942) issue 6: "The Secret of Bruce Wayne"

This issue features just a really small Catwoman cameo, still in her very first catsuit but the only thing she says is a nice summary of the relationship between her and Batman.

#6 Batman (March 1943) issue 15: "Your Face Is Your Fortune"

This time we meet the Cat under another name: Elva Barr and we are presented with her daily routine as a hard worker at a beauty salon. We see how she lives the normal life of an average girl and we wonder, along with Bruce , if this means she eventually decided to give up her crimes as the Cat-woman ... of course, this is just what she wants us to think: in truth her job only made it easier for her to "steal" her customers' looks and voice in order to use them for her robberies. In the first few pages we see Catwoman's first nameless pet cat and we have a first highlight of Bruce's interest, as a detective, in the Cat-woman's mystery. Before this issue we've seen Catwoman feeling some sort of romantic attraction towards Batman , in this issue she falls in love with Bruce Wayne, to the point of telling Batman she could even give up her crimes for him. To this, a flattered Batman decides to play along with it, and with the second 'oops' followed by an "accidental" tripping in just 5 issues of Catwoman's appearances, Batman, as Bruce, starts dating Elva Barr and the two get engaged (even though Bruce already has a relationship with Linda Page). The Cat-woman soon starts doubting Bruce's feelings for her and, disguised as Linda, finds out the truth by deceiving Bruce. This makes her change her mind about going straight and this eventually leads to Batman arresting her (for the first time).

#7 Batman (April 1944) issue 22: "The Duped Domestics"

... I wish I could skip this issue... but I keep reminding myself we are talking about literature from 80 years ago...

Anyways, Catwoman assumes another identity: Belinda the maid who is making all the butlers in the neighborhood fall in love with her to manipulate information out of them she can use to plan robberies in their masters' mansions... including Alfred. To hit on her Alfred will say he knows Batman and even steals Bruce's spare suit when she asks him to make her meet Batman. I don't even want to mention the ending of this issue that kind of calls back to the infamous "quiet or papa spank" Batman tells her in issue 1... but unfortunately this won't be the last time we see Catwoman dating... not so young men.

[Detective Comics (June 1946) issue 112: "The Case Without a Crime"

DISCLAIMER: the Catwoman, the character as we've known her in previous issues, doesn't appear here, just her costume worn by Corinne, a seamstress involved in a "case without a crime". Still, I think this issue is worth mentioning because it marks a first evolution of Catwoman's cat-suit. The furry cat-head is gone now and we finally have a prototype of one of her most iconic looks: purple dress and green cape.

Also, if I have to be completely honest, I might like this costume even better.]

#8 Batman (June 1946) issue 35: "Nine Lives has the Catwoman!"

As anticipated in my last post, Catwoman reappears wearing a new lilac catsuit with a simpler (and cuter) mask design this time. Her hair has a new shade of blond as we see her escaping from prison (where she is mocked by her fellow female inmates) and trying to win back her henchmen's trust by setting-up a non-existent power: the legendary nine lives of a cat. Speaking of cats, this is the first time we see Hecate, her first recurring pet cat with a name... and not a common name either! Hecate is, in fact, the name of the greek goddess of magic and witchcraft. Hecate is not the only Catwoman associate that receives a name in this issue. For instance two of her henchmen, her most faithful ones, now have names: Mike and Pete, whose precious help let Catwoman build her new hideout, the Cat-acombs, a maze built in order to trap Batman and Robin the moment they step in.

I want to note down a couple of last things: the first one is Batman chasing Catwoman on top of the dirigible... it reminded me of their usual rooftops chases in a particular way. The second one is that we see a Cat-O-Nine Tails in this issue (unfortunately I couldn't fit it among the other panels)! It's Batman who uses it to disarm her but still I feel like this can count as a first appearance of her good old whip as her weapon of choice.

#9 Batman (February 1947) issue 39: "A Christmas Tale!"

This Christmas issue, in which Catwoman is mentioned on the cover page for the first time, begins with Batman and Robin being sent by Gordon to investigate the disappearance of three pet cats: a red persian cat, a long-fur white cat and a tail-less manx cat. One thing the three of them had in common was their owners love for them. Batman and Robin will find out that Catwoman "catnapped" those cats in order to perform a couple of capers by using those cat's peculiarities.

After first seeing a Cat-O-Nine Tails in the last issue we analyzed, we finally see it in her hand now, noticing how it has become a part of her costume as she wears it around her waist like a belt. The thing about this issue that interests me the most, though, is Catwoman stopping her henchman from killing Batman. It's especially interesting if we think that in issue 35 she almost killed him with a gun. I like this characterization a lot. Lastly, in a part I unfortunately couldn't fit among the other panels, we almost had a kiss under the mistletoe... almost.

#10 Detective Comics (April 1947) issue 122: "The Black Cat Crimes"

This issue is rather important: not only Catwoman makes her first, official, appearance in the Detective Comics run, not only she also finally debuts on the cover page but this is the first time we see the (almost) definitive version of her iconic pre-Crisis catsuit... and the news aren't even over yet! Her iconic Kitty Car also makes its first appearance in this comic book: a vehicle designed to outspeed the very Batmobile itself. There are two main things I want to highlight in this issue in which Catwoman builds three capers on the old saying that "black cat" also means "bad luck": first of all that she herself makes her own gadgets (like the Claw Gloves that appear in this issue), and then that once again, after Batman 2, we see her worrying about Robin whenever he is in dangerous situations, like on top of the Statue of Liberty (or is it what will later be known as "Lady Gotham" or "Lady Justice of Gotham") in this issue. Her worries extends to Batman to the point of making Robin remark, with a smile, how she is really bad at hiding her fondness towards him.

#11 Batman (August 1947) issue 42: "Claws of the Catwoman!"

In this issue (which marks the first cover appearance of Catwoman in the Batman run) Catwoman takes inspiration for her capers from a book called: "Famous Felines: Immortal Cats of Fiction", which lists some of the most famous cat-tales in history. We can find the following references in this issue:

- "Ten Little Kittens"; a nursery rhyme.

- "Puss in Boots"; an italian fairy tale.

- "Dick Whittington and His Cat"; a british tale.

- "The Black Cat"; a short story by Edgar Allan Poe.

- The Cheshire Cat from "Alice in Wonderland".

- "The Cat and The Fiddle"; another nursery rhyme.

This issue also gives us: Catwoman in cowgirl boots, the name of another one of her henchmen: Slug, a new full body-catsuit, another chase with Catwoman that ends in Batman and Robin getting caught, Batman dancing at a cat-themed party, an epic fight against Catwoman on top of a giant violinist-cat statue... and another instance of Catwoman rejecting killing and caring about Batman and Robin's lives. She walls them without their utility belts but she cares about letting air flow so they wouldn't suffocate and implies that she was going to free them as soon as she was done with her crimes (and leaves Hecate on purpose to give them a chance to escape).

#12 Batman (February 1948) issue 45: "The Lady Rogues!"

Okay, well... If I worked at DC the first think I'd do would be a remake for this issue.

Just like the last issue I analyzed, this issue is very interesting because it includes mentions of well-known tales in real or fictional history. This time the focus is on all the most famous, or rather, infamous "lady rogues" like Lucrezia Borgia, Medusa, Circe, Lady Macbeth, "Snow White"'s Wicked Queen and Delilah. The extremely successful book that collects all of their stories by Neil Weston, however, doesn't include the name of someone who is proving herself to be at least worth a mention: Catwoman, this is why, out of spite, she decides to ruin the performances of Gala Kazon, the actress chosen to play every villainess from that book.

As always I like to point out all the abilities that Catwoman shows in the issue I'm analyzing, but, this time, the thing that impressed me the most about her wasn't the way she outwits Batman and Robin, managing to escape from their pursuit and showing once again to be an extremely smart and a very capable strategist and quick thinker, or Catwoman showing off another one of her flawless disguises: the beautiful Snow White together with her seven dwarfs, or even other skills like riding a bike or climbing... it was her comebacks and snarky remarks. She is particularly witty and humorous in this issue and that might be the part of Catwoman I like the most.

#13 Batman (July 1948) issue 47: "Fashions In Crime!"

I'm not going to lie, this might be my number one favorite comic book from the Golden Age.

Another prison breakout (thanks to Hecate and the content of her "utility collar"), another fake identity (Madame Moderne, whose blonde wig and attitude inevitably remind me of Selina from Batman: The Animated Series, still far in the future) and another clever way to steal jewels and valuable clothes from wealthy ladies. Which way? Well, launching a new fashion magazine all by herself that gains extreme popularity in no time giving her enough influence to bring wealthy people to expose their valuable fashion-related possessions by declaring them "The Style of The Month".

Catwoman is shown to be so resourceful in this issue: not only she is a great thief, mistress of disguise, lithe and athletic, able to set up her own prison break, with enough of aces up her sleeve to engineer all her thefts in success and still with henchmen at her service, but she is also a tasteful and extremely talented artist, stylist, publisher and marketer, all by herself.

Sure, today's Catwoman would rather die than own and wear a real fur coat but still this issue is a real pearl and it also includes another stolen kiss to Batman, their third one in comic book history!

#14 Batman (December 1950) issue 62: "The Secret Life of the Catwoman!"

I personally believe this is one of the most important issues for Catwoman's development in her comic book history.

We are talking about the issue where, after all the other names Catwoman has used in the past, she finally introduces herself as "Selina Kyle", the definitive name for her civilian alter-ego. But the name also comes with her first backstory: a stewardess who survived a plane crush but getting amnesia due to the trauma, only remembering her connection to cats due to her father formerly owning a pet shop.

But there's a lot more to point out in this issue!

First and foremost how Mister X remarks Catwoman's aversion to killing, since he needs her help to execute his "jobs" without any kill and he noticed that she is an expert at robbing people without even hurting them by using cats, then how selflessly, even before regaining her memories and rejecting her life of crime, she is ready to face death in order to save somebody else, Batman in this and in many more cases in the future, and lastly how, although being introduced as a rogue, she is already helping Batman and Gordon on the side of justice rejecting crime. It doesn't last for long, but she is the first rogue to receive this kind of development and it's a good reminder of how, even in the Golden Age, it was very hard to label Selina as either a hero or a villain.

#15 Batman (June 1951) issue 65: "Catwoman-- Empress of the Underworld"

The cover for this issue is one of my favorites because it encapsulates Selina's innate tendency to be difficult to "label" and/or "categorize" as well as Batman's consequent puzzlement, interest and even curiosity to understand and "solve" her. This is one of the BatCat couple's most recognizable traits but it's nice to remember it has always been like this, even back in the Golden Age, although nowadays most people tend to remember her as nothing more than an ordinary villain. But she was never just an "ordinary villain" and this issue is a proof to that: we left her in issue 62 revealing to us her real name and backstory, deciding to move past her crime-life and starting again by opening a pet-shop, thereby following her father's steps. At her shop, she receives the visit of a slumlord who has been evading arrest for years due to lack of proof known as "Whale" Morton who taunts her and invites her to turn back to her life as a villainess. Although she completely rejects the offer, Gotham is victim of a series of cat-related crimes and newspapers point the finger at Catwoman calling her the main suspect for these crimes. Gradually, everyone begins to suspect her, even herself as a few evidences lead Selina to believe that she might suffer from more episodes of amnesia in which she committs crimes as the Catwoman without being left with any memory of it.

The only one who never stops believing in her is Batman.

Batman's undying faith in Catwoman is the thing I want to focus on the most when talking about this issue. Even though Robin was the first one to have lost faith in her, Batman never stopped believing, or, at least, hoping, that there was a good explaination for what was happening and that she had a plan after all... until his hope was fulfilled in the end: it's revealed she was doing everything in order to frame Morton and finally get him arrested.

Lastly, I want to at least mention Selina's cleverness and courage in putting up this entire plan all by herself and her incredible agility and strenght as she climbs on top of the ZBC building with nothing more than her claws.

#16 Batman (February 1952) issue 69: "The King of the Cats!"

Although Selina has already left aside her past life as The Catwoman, Gotham finds itself dealing with a new series of cat-related crimes yet again, this time by the hands of a new villain calling himself The King of The Cats who also began sending gifts at "Selina's Pet Shop", causing a misunderstanding that makes Batman and Robin believe that their new foe might be Selina's lover. We see him driving her Kitty-Car and she also seems to know him personally as she calls him with his real name: Karl, other than trying her best to protect him from Batman and Robin. In the end we learn the truth: Selina is actually Karl's sister who just wanted to see him reform just like she did.

But my favorite part of this story must be the ending: Batman and The King of the Cats end up in two different cages, trapped with ferocious tigers and Selina has to choose on which beast use the last knockout gas pellet left. She chooses to put the tiger attacking Karl to sleep but she refuses to leave Batman alone in his cage, although she is confident he has the ability to save himself on his own, thus she jumps in his cage, fighting alongside him. I love seeing how she was always a selfless, brave and heroic woman, always ready to make sacrifices, since the very beginning of her comic book history.

#17 Detective Comics (January 1954) issue 203: "The Crimes of the Catwoman!"

Although this is the issue in which Selina Kyle, after a short but extremely important arc (in which she gave up her life as a thief to serve justice helping Batman and the police), wears once again her Catwoman costume to reprise her characteristic cat crimes, I feel like this issue is very important for the relationship between the Bat and the Cat.

Selina makes this choice after a continuous and long lasting torment inflicted to her by the media and members of the criminal underworld who keep reminding her of her past life as a criminal. We see Batman as the only one who doesn't judge her and the issue even starts with Batman protecting her from the upteenth pair of crooks who came at her pet shop to mock her, which I find really cute. Batman is shown to be really worried about her and saddened by her return to crime, even Robin and Gordon make comments on these feelings Batman has been showing for Catwoman. On her part, Catwoman can't bring herself to hurt Batman and doesn't let her crooks kill him like they wanted, which makes Batman and Robin question her feelings towards him. Batman also makes a lot of comments on Selina's clevernss and she even outsmarts him at some point!

With Selina's return to crime we also see the return of some of her old accessories and equipment like her notorious whip, the Cat-O-Nine Tails and her iconic Kitty Car, as well as now ones, like a Cat-apult, a Catboat and a Cat's Cradle she uses as a bridge during a new rooftop chase with Batman. We also see her finding herself a new lair, her new Catacomb, and, for the first time, a Catsignal, shines on the skies of Gotham... and just like in the past, a new ambiguous fate for her in the ending of the issue that makes us wonder if cats really have nine lives.

#18 Batman (June 1954) issue 84: "The Sleeping Beauties of Gotham City!"

Fully returned to her life as a criminal but thought to be dead by most people, including Batman and Robin, Selina Kyle returns to her pet shop claiming that there is no evidence to prove she is the woman behind the Catwoman mask... but she is secretly planning a heist inspired by the fairy tale of Snow White.

Everything begins with Selina being chosen, among a total of 100.000 applicants, as one of the five contestans for the "Queen For A Day" beauty contest, sponsored by the W. Ross Cosmetics Co. while, suspicious, Batman and Robin try to catch Catwoman in the act of committing a crime so they can put her in jail once and for all. The dynamic duo fails to catch her in her attempt to steal a Dalivarius violin at the Museum of Music but intend to confront her the day after... only to find out she somehow fell into a deep sleep catching huge media attention, while medical professionals, who got interested in her case, began studying this yet undiscovered illness by full-time watching over her dormant body through a glass showcase. But, to Batman and Robin's puzzlement, while Selina Kyle has an ironclad alibi, Catwoman is still at large committing crimes, also drugging the other contestants and trapping them in the same kind of deep sleep Selina still hasn't awakened from. And it's just as Batman sees Catwoman coming out of one of the last contestants' apartment (through what Robin calls a "Cat-Walk") that she manages to outsmart him once again and trap him. When he finally manages to escape from Catwoman's trap she has already been crowned as the winner of the beauty contest but he's still on time to prevent her from putting her hands on the prize (that she had agents in Europe switch with imported diamonds).

One thing that I really love about this issue is the part where Batman warns the GCPD about Catwoman because:

1) it's a nice summary of all her gadgets, skills and abilities;

2) ... Batman... where exactly do you keep that HUGE Catwoman painting?

#19 Detective Comics (September 1954) issue 211: "The Jungle Cat Queen!"

This issue marks Catwoman's last appearance for around a decade due to the Detective Comics and Batman titles adopting the strict Comics Code regulations which saw Batman flirting with a criminal who would frequently elude arrest as "too problematic" and, possibly, also to give Batman more love interests like Vicki Vale and Kathy Kane. Yet, this story, which may count as a temporary farewell, leaves us with a smart and skillful Catwoman who still isn't evil enough to kill.

The story begins with Catwoman flying away on her Catplane, which makes its first appearance in this issue, after stealing a shipment of diamonds. Batman and Robin guess her destination and follow Catwoman on their Batplane towards a tropical island, but their aircraft gets heavily damaged by the Catplane so they have to make an emergency landing on said island. There they make the acquaintance of John Jarrow and his colleagues who are working at a diamonds mine... and, unfortunately, working with Catwoman too. They manage to deceive the dinamic duo and even trap them eventually. When Selina appears she is accompained by a panther, a lion, a leopard and a tiger and suggests to let the beasts hunt down Batman and Robin, stripped of their suits and utility belts stopping the "miners" from trying to kill them. While escaping the felines the dinamic duo is able to spot Catwoman's new Catacomb, an ancient cat-temple in which she's keeping all her beasts. Batman guesses they must be tamed circus felines so he uses taming techniques to make them go back to their cages. John and the others arrive and with the help of a giant gorilla manage to subdue Batman and stun Robin. The "miners" want to kill Batman by throwing him off a waterfall and Catwoman suggests to put back on him his costume and utility belt to make all evidences of their involvement in the homicide disappear. She reassures them she took away all of his bat-gadgets from his utility belt before giving it back to him... except, she didn't. This helps Batman freeing himself, find salvation and find out what was going on on that island: there is no mine on that island, they were just bringing there stolen diamonds from all over the world and pretend there was one. With Robin's help they manage to catch all the criminals except for Catwoman, who escapes with the help of her tiger, then leaving on her Catplane.

Her choice to save Batman's life by leaving all his gadgets in his utility belt makes the dinamic duo point out once again how she just can't bring herself to kill.

[Batman (October 1958) issue 119: "The Secret of Batman Island!"

As I already mentioned in my last post, after Detective Comics issue 211, Catwoman, a.k.a. Selina Kyle, stops appearing in comic books for around a decade.

I still wanted to mention this cameo she makes in 1958: she is remembered as one of Batman's most relevant foes in the Batman Museum on A. K. Barnaby's "Batman Island".]

[Detective Comics (1963 - 1964)

- Issue 311: "Challenge of the Cat-Man!"

- Issue 318: "The Cat-Man Strikes Back"

- Issue 325: "The Strange Lives of the Cat-Man"

Thomas Blake, a.k.a. the Cat-Man, is the closest thing we have to a Catwoman in this period of comic books. He explicitly states to have been inspired by her into becoming a cat-themed criminal, remembering her as one of Batman's greatest foes". He even makes a cat-suit (with supernatural powers, just like his own) for Batwoman, whom he has a crush on, hoping she would join him becoming his Cat-Woman, which happens even if just to trick Cat-Man.

He basically copies her entire aesthetic committing cat-related crimes, driving a "Cat-Car" and calling his hideout a "Catacomb"... everything except his suit, which still looks pretty different from hers, and his attitude...

P.S.: about the blatant sexism... Tommy, dear, this "mere woman" kicks your butt every time she crosses your path, what does that make you? 💅🏼]

#20 Batman (December 1965) issue 176: "Complete Sunday Newspaper Syndicated Story"

This short story is actually the reprint of a newspaper comic strip released in 1946 and it shows Catwoman challanging Batman to catch her in a chase across the United States.

Unafraid of Batman, Catwoman decides to take advantage of his interest in putting her behind bars and proposes an extremely well-crafted plan to crimelords whose crooks are becoming more and more terrified of Batman thus making committing crimes more difficult.

Her plan consists in ruining Batman's grim reputation by sharing with different newspapers a detailed route across the USA, inviting Batman to catch her. In this way she can show the world how the frightening Batman can't catch a thief like her even while knowing all her movements in detail.

This might be one of my Golden Age favorite moments, for many reasons:

- Catwoman being one of the few characters being completely unafraid of Batman is a very important element of their dynamic;

- Batman calls her a "master of disguise" in this story and he is so right: Catwoman keeps changing her disguise every time she appears publicly on transports and Batman has to do the same in order to spot her and I think this is what makes this story so fun;

- for the same reason this story has probably the greatest fashion moments in the entire Golden Age era and I really love seeing Catwoman looking so good in each panel;

- I also think that Catwoman's characterization is done perfectly here, from her snark to her cleverness: I never get tired of seeing Catwoman outsmarting Batman!

☆ Batman (January 1966)

The extremely popular Batman TV series that brought Catwoman on a screen for the first time, relaunching her character after her ten-years-long absence from comic books, started airing in January 1966. Catwoman was portrayed by Julie Newmar in seasons 1 and 2, Eartha Kitt in season 3 and Lee Meriwether in the movie adaptation.

Catwoman appeared in the following episodes:

SEASON 1:

- Episode 19: "The Purr-Fect Crime"

- Episode 20: "Better Luck Next Time"

SEASON 2:

- Episode 37: "Hot Off the Griddle"

- Episode 38: "The Cat and the Fiddle"

- Episode 44: "Ma Parker"

- Episode 63: "The Cat's Meow"

- Episode 64: "The Bat's Kow Tow"

- Episode 67: "The Sandman Cometh"

- Episode 68: "The Catwoman Goeth"

- Episode 74: "That Darn Catwoman"

- Episode 75: "Scat! Darn Catwoman"

- Episode 83: "Catwoman Goes to College"

- Episode 84: "Batman Displays His Knowledge"

SEASON 3:

- Episode 108: "Catwoman's Dressed to Kill"

- Episode 110: "The Funny Feline Felonies"

- Episode 111: "The Joke's on Catwoman"

- Episode 119: "The Entrancing Dr. Cassandra"

[saintmurd0ck]

🍹frank 'what if i hurt you' because im in desperate need of more rhi's frank castle content

ahhhhh nonnie you're so sweet oh my god 🙈 i always feel so nervous writing for frank (especially solo), because i don't feel that i capture him well enough compared to the other supremely talented frank writers out there... but your kind words keep me going, and i hope you enjoy x

let's have a sleepover at mine!

no questions asked | frank castle x reader

Frank shrugs his jacket back over his shoulders, gun heavy in his hand as he tucks it into the waistband of his jeans. The weight of a loaded gun is second nature to him at this point, but it’s different tonight. Heavier.

It’s as if the bullets are laced with the trace of you; your melodious laughter, your radiant smile… all the good things in the world. You encompass the good things that Frank doesn’t — can’t — comprehend. He doesn’t think he deserves you.

He starts towards the door, but he pauses. Your anger — his cowardice — shrouds him as his voice begins to soften. “I can’t stay.”

Despite the winter chill lacing the atmosphere, the sheets feel warm, too warm on your body. Frank’s hoodie scratches at your skin, fabric becoming more rigid the more he pulls away. You can barely stand to look at him, but through red-rimmed eyes and gritted teeth, you make a decision. If Frank chooses the easy way out, you’ll do what you’ve always done.

Stay.

The tears sluice down the contours of your face. “I don’t understand, Frank. I thought this was good. I thought we were good.”

He barely lifts his head, but he nods. “We were.”

“What changed?”

Your name rolls off his tongue, but for once, its taste is foreign. “Everyone I love gets killed, and I can’t let that happen to you.”

In this moment, you want to scream. You want to drag him by the scruff of his collar, push him down onto the bed, and yell at him, hoping he understands just how wrong he is.

But you don’t. You cast aside your thundering heart and the goosebumps that now prickle your skin, and measure your next words carefully. “So you’d just run away?” It comes out softer, and more high-pitched than intended, but you continue. “You’d deny yourself any chance of happiness?”

The mattress dips as you swing your legs off the edge of the bed, not caring for a second that there’s nothing clothing you but his hoodie. “You deserve to be happy, Frank. And I’m sick of you thinking otherwise.”

He towers over you as you pad nearer, but it doesn’t scare you. You’re not going to let him get away. Not again.

Frank’s voice is barely a whisper as he looks to the ground. “What if I hurt you? I won’t— I couldn’t forgive myself. I can’t let you be with me.”

In the darkness of the bedroom, your head shaking is nothing more but a slow glimpse of movement. “We do this together. No more running.” Your voice is cool and steady as you reach for the cool metal handle of the gun sticking out of his jeans. It stings in your hand as you pull it out, but you move past, unloading it the way he’s taught you.

Frank hesitates as he changes his posture, spine stiffening slightly as his breath catches in his throat. “You sure, darlin’? If you want me to leave, I’ll get outta here. No questions asked.”

His jacket falls to the ground in a clumsy heap. “Shut the hell up and kiss me, Castle.”

You catch the glint of his shy smile in amongst the shadows, in amongst the flurry of fabric as his shirt slips off his head. “That’s easier than runnin’, I tell you that.”

[pleasantanathema]

Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader] 

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

[itsallyscorner]

Can you write a little mix member x avengers cast?? Maybe?

Hello love! Thank you for the request, I apologize for taking so long to work on it! I’ve written this as a headcanon, since I haven’t done any of those in a while. I hope you like it❤️

💌.

The Marvel Cast Finds Out You’re In Little Mix

Why is this lowkey a crack fic/headcanon😭💀

Alrighty so, I feel like they probably wouldn’t know you’re part of a band or who Little Mix is.

Since SADLY, the girls aren’t as big in the States as we’d like them to be:(

The people who definitely might know you are ✨The Brits✨ and Scarlett because she has a young daughter who probably listened to Wings or something—kids find everything on the internet these days.

Working with Marvel was your first acting gig; so none of them knew anything about you or if you’ve been in other films, etc.

Except for Tom Holland, who was lowkey fangirling at the fact he gets to work with one of the Little Mix members.

Side note: he’ll be deeply offended when he figures out the others don’t know about Little Mix or that you can sing.

The rest of the cast (RDJ, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Seb, Lizzie, etc.) had a hunch that you were some kind of writer.

You were always humming to yourself and writing in your notebook or typing down notes in your phone when something came to mind.

Though they didn’t pry at your business because—well, it wasn’t their business.

They could find out about your other job through many ways. Maybe you guys are doing promo and some interviewers mention the band and things about a new album, to which most of them were confused about.

“So (Y/n), I know this is your first time acting. How different was it from performing on stage and acting on camera?”

Everyone’s attention would be on you (this is a panel btw) Mackie’s looking at the back of your head in confusion, Robert fully turns in his seat to look at you, Lizzie is also curious, Evans is looking between you and the reporter—everyone is just confused.

“Performing on stage? Did you do Broadway (y/n/n)?” Evans asked. Tom (Holland) scoffed shaking his head, disgusted to be part of this group of uncultured swines.

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, I’m a singer. I’m part of a girlband.”

The whole cast gasped in shock. Mackie let out a loud “WHAT?!”. Robert leaned even closer to you trying to see if you were lying. Others whispered amongst themselves asking each other if they knew.

Tom (Holland) just sat back watching everyone’s reactions along with you. Amused at the amount of questions that were suddenly being thrown your way.

He’d also be quick to add, “NOT just ANY girlband, but the biggest girlband on the planet.”

For clarification, Tom’s a very proud Mixer.

Scarlett finally recognized you, knowing that she’s seen you somewhere before, but could never put her finger onto it. “Wait you’re from Little Mix!”

“THANK YOU! FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME TASTE!” Tom yelled, dramatically turning to Scarlett.

After the initial shock, everyone was very curious. They wanted to hear your music, wanted to know the other members, when your next tour was—they were very ecstatic.

When you guys finally reached London for the press tour, there was a lot of hype for Little Mix because you guys were going to finally reunite after months of being apart.

The girls were allowed to visit set, but since you guys were working on your new album, they were stuck in London. You were relocated to Atlanta, filming an Avengers movie and working on the album via FaceTime/Zoom.

You and the girls reunite the same night you land in London! As tired as you were, the five of you hung out in your hotel room.

You were all excited for the days to come. Not only were you doing promo for the movie but you and the girls were going to be performing again on night time talk shows and were having a Live Lounge session with BBC Radio 1.

The panel of the cast discovering you were part of a band went viral. Many of the fans couldn’t believe they didn’t know about your other job.

There were even edits going around social media of the cast looking clueless and or reacting to your ‘secret’.

Then there were ones like “Tom Holland being a Mixer for 10 minutes and 57 seconds straight”.

Your favorite one was where they zoomed in on everyone’s confused expression while that one Nicki Minaj song played in the background.

It was mentioned in almost every interview after it went viral.

“So none of you had a clue that (y/n) was also a singer? Like at all?”

“I didn’t even know homegirl could sing, matter of fact I never imagined her to be in a girlband.” — Anthony Mackie

“I had a hunch that she was a musician or artist, but no one ever listens to me.” — Chris Evans

“(Y/n)’s in a girlband? Since when?” — Paul Rudd

“After we found out, I listened to all six of their albums on the flight here.” — Elizabeth Olsen

“Of course I knew, my music taste is immaculate compared to the others.” — Tom Holland

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” — Anthony Mackie

“I really enjoy Black Magic, it reminds me of Wanda.” — Paul Bettany

The cast was so eager to hear you sing and watch you perform with the girls.

They finally got to do that when you invited them to the Live Lounge session. They also got to meet the girls.

You were very happy at that moment; seeing the two groups of people you love meeting each other and getting along meant a lot to you. It gave you a lil warm tingle in your heart.

Since there were no fans in the studio, it was only you and the girls, the band, and a bunch of the Avengers.

While the cameras rolled and you guys were performing, they were crowded together behind the scenes. Some of them were sitting on the carpeted floors or standing against the walls.

They were absolutely stunned when they heard you sing. You had a powerful voice that ranged from high to low, something they never expected of you.

When they heard you and the girls sing or harmonize with each other, it was like they were all in heaven.

“They sound like angels.”

“My ears are tingling, but like in a good way.”

“Seriously, how did we not know she can sing like this?”

“Hear me out—this is a perfect reason as to why we should have an Avengers musical.”

“Chris if we hear you bring up a damn musical one more time I swear.”

“Their voices go so well together, how do they even do that?”

Scarlett would secretly film videos to show her daughter. I have a feeling that Evans, Tom, RDJ, Sebby, and Mark would record some parts as well and would post it onto their Insta stories.

When fans found out they were at the Live Lounge they freaked out.

Ever since they found out you were in a band, they’ve been the biggest fans and supporters of the group.

They’re always promoting your albums on their social media accounts without you even asking.

Privately and publicly praising you guys for performances or achievements.

Your two main groups clashed and now everyone was friends. It was definitely the most weirdest collision— Little Mix and the cast of the Avengers. But it worked out perfectly.

Everyone got along with each other and the girls would always visit you on set.

They’re always playing the band’s song in the background on set.

Most of them won’t admit, but they definitely memorized the lyrics to almost every song.

*cough cough* Mackie and Hemsworth

I feel like Samuel L. Jackson would join in on the action too, one way or another. Somehow he got looped in.

ANOTHER THING OMG, they would definitely stand up for you and the girls whenever Piers Morgan or some asshole hates on you guys or pulls a jab on you all.

Best beileve Evans will be calling him out publicly on Twitter.

“Why are you so worried about a bunch of talented women who are doing their job and bringing happiness to others? They’ve done nothing to you, you’re always the one making jabs at them. Leave them alone you fucking British meatball.”

I feel like Robert helped you and the girls find a better management company after learning about the unfair treatment you all faced under Simon’s care.

In conclusion: The Marvel cast would be ecstatic to learn about you being a singer and they’d become your biggest fans. They truly adore you and the girls for your amazing talent :’)

[cherienymphe]

I just read twisted devotion and I can’t expression how much I loved it!

So I’m just here to say that you’re a brilliant writer. I love the way your stories never jump straight to the smut, you give us so much background to the characters and it’s all so planned out that I get more excited about reading about their story than the actual smut lol. I don’t think I’ve ever skipped even a single word of any of your fan fiction that I’ve read, that’s how much I like to read them🥺

Also I have a question, will we ever get to know if Thor actually got to know about Loki and the reader? If he did, what was his reaction? What did he say to Loki? Is he going to keep quiet? How did Loki even convince him to keep it on the down low? So many questions!!

Oh look a drabble!

Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy the build up because I know it’s not for everyone but I always write what I want to read.

.

Thor’s eyes never left your frame until it disappeared around the corner completely. His expression morphed within seconds as he rounded on his brother, the hand that was gently on his shoulder now pressing into his throat as he slammed the dark haired god into the wall.

“What games are you playing at, brother?”

His voice was low, panicked even, some might say. His nostrils flared as he stared at the other man in disgust, lip threatening to curl over his teeth as Loki simply stared at him.

“I saw you! I can hardly ever get you to shutup, but now you choose to hold your tongue? Our own sister?”

He knew that Loki enjoyed the usual trick or two. He enjoyed causing chaos and confusion amongst those around him, but Thor never thought he would fall so low. He never thought that he would turn his mischievous ways towards you. His brother’s lack of reaction and even gaze only made him angrier. They were supposed to protect you, keep you safe from harm, but the true predator was within their walls all this time.

Thor could hardly stand to look at him.

“Have you tired of all of the women in Asgard that you mean to traumatize our sister?” Thor snarled.

Finally, a reaction. He seemed to have hit a nerve as Loki shoved him away, eyes hard as he took a step towards him. His brother swallowed, jaw clenching.

“Hold your tongue on matters you know nothing about.”

“What have you done to her?”

“Nothing she did not want.”

That gave Thor pause, and his mouth parted as he stared at the other man. He blinked, rearing back a bit as he took a step back. He could feel his frown deepening, and he eventually shook his head.

“I never took you for a liar, brother.”

“I love her.”

Thor froze as he watched his brother. His green eyes were filled with emotions Thor did not think Loki capable of. His face held no humor, no uncertainty or doubt of any kind. Loki truly believed what he was saying, and Thor felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

“I...I shouldn’t. The way that I love her isn’t right...but I do,” he whispered.

He swallowed, looking like the boy he once was as he glanced away. His chest was heaving, Thor noted, and he studied him more as he faced him again.

“We...did something that she is struggling with. Something we shouldn’t have...”

Loki’s voice was low, a bit fearful even, and that sinking feeling in Thor’s gut only grew. The more he stared at his brother, the clearer the truth became, and Thor felt his stomach churn. He knew what Loki was hinting at, knew what the two of you had done, and he placed a hand on his hip, the other running down his face.

“Loki,” he breathed, realizing that this was not what it seemed.

Thor wished that his earlier assumptions were correct because then it would be so much easier to bring his brother within an inch of his life. But if Loki was telling the truth, and Thor suspected that he was, then this was more complicated than he wanted it to be.

Was he really surprised though?

For years, your closeness had bothered him. He’d tried to brush it off and pretend as if it didn’t, but it did. You always preferred Loki. You preferred his talents, his voice, his humor, even his bed when you had a nightmare. He had his warriors though and had long accepted that you two just had more in common with each other than you did with him.

Now, he was going over every interaction in his head. Every hug he witnessed, every hushed conversation he’d stumbled upon, even the nights in which Loki would comfort you back to sleep. How long had this been brewing?

“Father plans to marry her off.”

Loki’s trembling voice brought him back to the present, and Thor stared at him in shock.

“No...”

His brother nodded, and Thor blinked in surprised at the tears in his eyes.

“Within the year. She will be...someone’s wife...and she will go to live with him...and she will bear his children.”

Loki’s voice was strained, and Thor placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe that is for the best, brother.”

Loki’s eyes darkened considerably at his words, and Thor continued.

“Loki...nothing more must come of this. Do you hear me? She...she is our sister. Our blood may not run through her veins, but she is family. We are meant to protect her...not...”

“Not love her in the way a woman deserves to be loved?”

“Loki!” Thor scolded his teasing, although his words and his eyes lacked humor.

His brother was hurting. He could see that now, but it did not make any of this any less wrong.

“I will not tell mother and father what has become of you two, but this must end. Whatever happened...it cannot happen again. She will be married and so will you one day. Things will be as they should. Are you listening to me?”

Loki had turned his head away, lips curled into a scowl.

“Loki!”

The dark haired god sighed before looking at him again. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were dark with distaste. He pulled away from him, causing Thor’s hand to drop, and the other man lifted his chin.

“I hear you, brother. Loud and clear.”

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Dear Witches, I know most of your recs are by theme, but I was wondering if you could share what you think are the best-written fics? There are a number of writers in this fandom who I think should be snapped up by mainstream publishers. The talent!

Many of the witches have been active in other fandoms prior to SC and all agree that the talent in this fandom is unbelievable. The quality of fic that gets written here is out of this world. We are so, so lucky to have so many wonderfully gifted writers.

That being said, what makes something well-written is really subjective. Even amongst the coven, we have different authors we favor and specifics that determine our criteria for what makes a particular fic stand out.

We're going to direct you back to some lists we've done in the past, some of our faves and what we'd consider essential reading for the fandom.

Essentials

Farm Witch Faves 1

Farm Witch Faves 2

Fave Series

Fave AUs

Settle in, friends, these lists are long.

[spicy-dunkaroo]

Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)

♫Now Playing: “Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)” by Spicy Dunkaroo…♪

❀Word Count: 2.5k

❀Rating: PG 13, 18+, Minors Do Not Interact (please)

❀Genre: Mythology AU!, Kelpie! Tamaki Amajiki, a pinch of Angst, very Fluffy, Maybe Smut (Still not sure yet)

❀Summary: Due to your job, you’re forced to visit a beautiful city in Scotland in order to get some reconnaissance on the locals. While on this trip, you grab a drink with a coworker and return home where you begin to notice strange things happen.

❀Warning(s): Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol use (Characters are aged up), and Mentions of Depression

❀Author's Note: Hello everyone!! This will be my first collaboration with the BNHarem server (Of hopefully many more). I hope that if you enjoy this story that you also go ahead and check out the other talented artists/writers that participated in this server collab here. I am beyond grateful to be working with so many amazing writers and artists that have helped me and inspired me to start writing!! I would also like to ask that if there are any warnings I might have missed, please do let me know. The last thing I want to do is have anyone read my story and get triggered because I didn’t properly put the warnings here.

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy :)

☟❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀☟

Birds singing, leaves crunching, and the wind singing in your ears was all you could hear as the tour guide went on with their one-sided conversation of tour around Inverness, Scotland. If it weren’t for your worrisome supervisor, you’d be in the cute little cottage that you rented for the next few weeks, probably playing on your switch or watching Tigtog videos for hours on end. But noooo, they mandated that everyone had to go on this hour-long tour of the city to “get a nice perspective of the city” or whatever the hell they were rambling on about.

Each person was assigned a partner for the tours so they didn’t have to worry about anyone getting abducted or ‘lost’. Knowing better, you visibly rolled your eyes as your partner looked around like a kid in a candy store. Apparently the woman was from the marketing department as well, her name seeming to leave your memory as you squinted in her direction.

“You forgot my name again, didn’t you?”

“Pfft- no- no way!”

“Yea? Then what is it?”

“Uh, erm...It- it starts with a H, I know that!!”

“It’s Hoshi, or if you’d like to continue with formalities, Ms. Tenmei.”

Hanging your head in shame you look away. Getting lost in your thoughts once more, Hoshi taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, no worries! I’m pretty bad with names myself. How’s camera duty going?”

Saying this, the woman grabs the camera from your grasp, turning it back on to see the pictures you had taken thus far. Whistling, Hoshi looks back at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm that was painted across your face.

“I know this tour is the last thing either of us want to do, but the quicker you get all those pictures for the portfolio, the quicker we can get out of here and grab a drink. It’ll be my treat if you can get all of them before the end of the tour.”

Nodding your head, you grab the camera back from her, beginning to focus it on a nice view of the lake from the bridge the two of you were standing on. Before you can snap the shot, the tour-guide’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as he begins to speak about a more interesting topic.

“It’s said that this lake has a kelpie spirit living within its waters. Although, that can be said about any lake that’s big enough to swim in.”

As most tourists begin to talk amongst themselves, you grip onto the expensive camera once more, hoping to find that perfect shot you had before the man’s shrilling voice had interrupted your train of thought.

“Mommy, what’s a kelpie?”

As the little boy spoke, you took the chance to snap the shot as a bird flew on the lake's surface, leaving a black blur on the perfect shot!

‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’

The tour guide you grew to despise butted into the pair’s conversation to answer the boys question.

“That’s a good question kiddo! It’s said that the origins of the Kelpie were originally told as warnings to women and children alike to be alert at all times when not around their loved ones. Despite this, you can ask any local in the area and most could tell you their story of encountering the supposed myth. I suppose we’ll never know till we see one for ourselves. Though, if you’re unlucky enough to encounter such a myth, there’s the chance that you won’t live to tell the tale...”

The boy trembled as he gripped his mother’s dress tighter in his clutch. Your partner begins to scoot closer to you as she whispers into your ear.

“Psst! Hey, what do you think about those ‘kelpie’ hm?”

“It sounds like some sort of folk-lore they tell all the tourists here.”

“Oh c’mon now, you’re no fun! I’d like to think they might not be as brutal as this guy says.”

Scoffing, you shake your partner’s hand from your shoulder as you look into the camera’s lens once more to take another picture.

‘I’m sure it’s all bullshit. There’s no such thing as a shape-shifting kel-‘

Thinking this, you suddenly feel your body begin to fall forward as the bridge railing suddenly let out from beneath you. Before you realize it, you open your eyes to see the water's surface only a mere foot or two from your own face, the camera hanging by your neck and grazing the lake, your body beginning to be pulled back to its upright position.

Turning around to thank whoever it was that just saved you from having to pay for the company camera, you look to see nobody behind you. Nobody seemed to even be around you as you see Hoshi following behind the group of tourists, leaving you in the dust. You begin to chase after the group as you shake off the entire encounter.

Shuffling your bag off of your shoulder you threw it into the nearby chair, slumping into the couch that was adjacent to the chair. You began to hum to yourself as you felt the effects of the beer contest you had with Hoshi who you now knew was your supervisor. Thinking to yourself you remember losing that contest the two of you set up.

‘It was nice of her to pay for us and to bring me back home even though I lost. I should thank her tomorrow and try to pay her back if I can.’

Suddenly feeling the effects of the liquid courage, you stood up a bit too quickly, reaching your hand out to the couch you were just laying on. Not sure what to do, you reached for your phone to scroll through Tigtog, that was until you began to hear something strange. From what you could tell, it sounded like a voice, though you weren’t sure if it was male or female. Curiosity began to take the lead as you stood upright once more. Looking around, you began to walk around the cottage, seeing if there was anything on that could be making that noise. Eventually you found yourself outside in what looked to be the backyard of your little cottage, swaying side to side as you tried to listen for the voice once more.

“Y/N? Are- are you there?”

Under normal circumstances, after hearing an unknown males voice you’d already be locking the backdoor behind you after racing to that door. Tonight, however, was not the case as you yelled back the best you could of a response.

“yYeaa! Wwwhooo- whoo arre yOU?”

After saying this, you suddenly began to burp, probably due to the alcohol. Despite everything you had experienced thus far, for some reason your fit of burps could not be funner to you at that very moment as the voice spoke once more.

“T-That’s not important r-right now. I just wanted to make sure you made it back home safe.”

The liquid courage that coursed through your veins decided that you wanted to find out more about this stranger and began to walk into the forest. You began to sway as you attempted to find them, calling out to them in hopes of convincing them to stay and hang out.

“OoooOh c’mON now!! Don’t be liiiike that! Wh-wherrrreeee are ya? Le-le-let’s hanggg ouT for a bit! I-I *hic* think there’s cards in the liv-livingg roooom~! We- we can play a gggame of poKER and- and see what’s in the fridge. Man, now I’m hungryyy!”

Despite your lack of sobriety at the moment, you began to hear a few leaves crunch nearby. It appeared that for some reason or another, what you lacked in logic you seemed to gain in your basic senses. This theory proved true as you sniffed the air, you noticed that there was a lake nearby.

‘Since when the hell did I know what a river smelled like?’

Before you can continue on with your train of thought, the stranger responds once more. They seemed a bit panicked as you heard a twig snap, followed by more leaves crunching beneath their feet you suspected.

“D-D-Don’t come any closer! Y-You should go back h-home, you’re not t-thinking rationally.”

Not wanting to take no for an answer, you continue to walk to the source of the sound, hearing what sounded like a cascading river growing louder. Looking through the trees, you noticed a few yards away the river you had just heard. You speak up once more as you begin to walk toward the river.

“I-I don’t want to be alone r-right now… It-it’s stupid I know, I just...I’d just like to talk, just for a little bit. Would that be okay?”

Your vision began to blur as you rushed to the river's edge. It didn’t matter now if the stranger responded or not, your world began to crash down around you as you looked at the reflection on the water's edge. Sitting on your knees, small whimpers escaped your lips out as you covered your face with your hands. Despite the literal lack of sight, your emotions consumed you as it felt that everything around you was losing the light that once shone in your hopeful eyes.

At this point, you couldn’t hear any signs of life as you gripped harder at your face, only the sound of your quiet cries for help being all that echoed through that hollow forest. Assuming the worst, you began to move your hands from your face, dropping them by your side once more as you looked at your reflection once again.

“Y-You said you wanted to talk? T-That’d be fine, just- just promise you won’t cry anymore?”

There's a beat of silence, it seemed that not even the wind could speak as your body froze. Sure, you could convince yourself that you were just hearing things, that you were just acting aloof because you were feeling lonely. If you could get yourself on the couch, you could wake up and even tell yourself that the whole experience was just a really surreal dream you had. What you couldn’t convince yourself was the half naked man that appeared to be standing a few feet behind you, his voice matching his lips as you watched them move.

‘Maybe- maybe I’m just seeing things? That-that has to be right, right?! But alcohol doesn’t cause hallucinations and I’m positive that none of my drinks were spiked. So- so...Who the hell is this!?!’

“Are- are you okay Y/N?”

Your body grew stiff as you heard your name roll off of his tongue. If you weren’t getting clearheaded before, you definitely were cold sober now. Those shy indigo eyes that seemed to stare back at your own off of the river's surface as they brought you back to your senses.

‘There is a strange, half-naked man, who somehow knows you by your name, staring at you- talking to you! He doesn’t seem very intimidating, but then again he is a stranger!! In the best case scenario, he could just be a nice guy who found someone in need. Worst case, he’s a psycho that found their next victim! I can’t keep my back turned like this, I have to do something and get the hell out of this!’

Taking a shallow breath in, you swiftly turn your entire body around, facing the stranger that now made your body shiver in fear as you looked up at him. Despite the appearance of the situation, the man seemed to be intimidated by you as he looked away.

‘He doesn’t really seem like he wants to hurt me. If anything, he’s scared of me? Maybe I can intimidate him to leave me alone? Though, I don’t think I could pull it off seeing as I’m still a bit drunk…’

“Y-Y/N?”

Looking back at the man, you notice he begins to reach his hand out toward you, slowly beginning to walk toward your crouched form. Worried for the worst, you scoot away as you respond.

“H-HEY!! D-Don’t come any c-closer! If-If you don’t I-I’ll- ACK!”

Speaking this, you only now notice that there didn’t seem to be any more ground beneath you as you felt your body begin to fall into the river.

“Y/N!”

Before you can process everything that’s happening, you close your eyes in anticipation for the cold water that was bound to drown you. The stranger grabs your wrist, holding your body up above the river, your body mere inches from being submerged in the cold water. Noticing the lack of impact, you flutter your eyes open as you look back at the man before you. Shocked, the man looks down at where he grabbed your wrists. Only now do you notice a purple hue that surrounded both your arms.

“What- what is this?!”

At a loss for words, the man can only look back between your face and where he held your wrist. Confused and scared, you rip your arm from his grip as you stand yourself back up. As you stare at the man, you look around, befuddled by whatever the hell had just happened.

While a part of you would love to ask what just happened, the more logical side of you knew that none of this was worth hanging around to find out. Dusting yourself off, the man speaks up once more as he looks away in what seemed to be guilt.

“Y-Y/N, I-I’m so so-sorry!! I-I didn’t mean to t-touch you- What have I done?!”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you began to shuffle around the man, holding your hands up in surrender as you attempted to empathize with the man. Although, you weren’t sure why he was so worried since he didn’t seem to do anything besides whatever that purple glow was moments before.

“Hey, hey! We don’t have to speak about any of this. I’ll go back and after that we won’t have to ever see each other ever again, okay?”

“Y/N, i-it’s not that simpl- h-Hey, WAIT!!”

Before he had a chance to explain, you sprinted back to your cute rental cottage that you were now wishing you never left. Looking back, you notice the man just stood there as you were almost home.

Suddenly, your body stopped moving. What was even stranger, your body seemed to freeze mid-sprint. Looking around, you noticed that somehow your head was able to move but your arms were stiff as you attempted to force your body to run once more. Just as you were about to give up, your legs moved once more, wobbling as they felt gravity work once more. Not taking any chances, you began to dash once more. Not a second later, your body rolled forward from some sort of large and heavy impact. After your body finished rolling forward, you noticed that you were sitting in the backyard of the cottage, the man sitting on his head as his body laid against the door.

“W-Who or-or What are you?”

The man sighs as he flutters his eyes open, rubbing his head as he looks up at you.

“M-My name’s T-Tamaki Amajiki, and- and I’m a kelpie…”

~End of Part 1~

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | chapter one: how odd

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 2.8K

notes: you guys have been so amazing with your feedback on “guarded” and it warms my heart that you loved hoseok and ms. kim -- so it’s time to show mr. kim some love, too.  this series will not be long (probably three parts) but i had to break it into chapters because of the POV shifts. please let me know what you think about this chapter and as usual thank you so much to all the tiger wives and my amazing betas @ladyartemesia​ and @hobi-gif​.

this series is dedicated to the amazing @sahmfanficbts​ who is an incredible writer, an awesome woman, and kim namjoon’s number one fan.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

“You fired me?”

Namjoon turns at the sound of the quiet accusation that comes from over his shoulder.  

There is color in your cheeks as you cross the length of his office.  Your jaw is tight, one lock of hair falling free from the loose knot at the base of your neck. One perfectly-arched brow is raised high.

You look hurt.

Beautiful -- but hurt.

Guilt hits Namjoon like a freight train.

“Of course not,” he deflects, taking a seat.  He picks up one of the papers scattered across his desktop and pretends to read it carefully.  “I reassigned you to a position I believe will be a better fit.”

There’s no way he could miss the irritated breath you suck between your teeth but Namjoon keeps his eyes glued to that paper in his hand.  He realizes, absently, that it’s a takeout menu.

He hopes you haven’t noticed the same thing.

“Well, was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Namjoon winces at the dejection in your tone.  He finally forces himself to meet your gaze and finds your eyes brimming with frustration.  

He certainly can’t blame you on that account -- you have every right to be frustrated.  You shouldn’t be made to feel somehow lacking when it’s him who is lacking in every way that counts.

“Quite the opposite,” he says carefully.  “I think it’s a waste of your skills to have you keeping my schedule and taking calls.  Seokjin can make better use of your talents on the business side.”

A strained silence settles over the room and Namjoon clears his throat before looking back down to his papers.

“Well, the new girl is terrible at this,” you say flatly.  “I certainly wouldn’t have let me walk in here unannounced.  She’s too busy looking at her phone to look after you.”

Namjoon knows you’re right about that.

In the few short months you’ve worked for him, you’ve proven yourself to be unnaturally attuned to his needs. You knew without asking which calls he was trying to avoid and when, when to clear his schedule the day after a rough night on the streets. You’ve kept his office stocked with every comfort he’d ever wanted and some he hadn’t even realized he wanted.  

You are the single best assistant he’s ever had and he couldn’t stand to keep you around for one minute longer.

You don’t wait for Namjoon to formulate some kind of response to your damning and accurate observation.  By the time he looks back up from his papers, you’ve already turned on your heels to leave.  

He watches you walk away with regret weighing heavy in his gut.

**************************

Namjoon’s keys clang loudly when he drops them on the table in his foyer.

This penthouse is the best apartment in one of the best buildings in Seoul.  It’s filled with lavish furnishings and expensive paintings and boasts a stunning view of the Han River.  It’s one of the finest residences in the city.

And Namjoon hates it.

The vacant rooms and the echoing walls seem to mock him, making him all the more aware of how empty it is.  How completely devoid it is of any life. Most nights he stays at the office until he’s delirious with exhaustion just so he can collapse straight into bed once he gets here. 

Tonight though, for once, this place seemed like a better option. 

Namjoon pulls off his tie and releases the first few buttons of his shirt before pouring a scotch.  

He’s drinking too much these days -- he knows it -- but the drinks help slow the constant movement of his mind.  They help dull the anxiety that seems to take over when he’s too still for too long.

He walks to the window to look out over the night sky.  

This is his favorite way to see the city -- high up enough that everything looks pristine.  Get closer and you’ll be assaulted by the noise and the crowds and the pollution.  Get closer and the flaws are too hard to ignore.

“Was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Your words echo as clearly in Namjoon’s mind as if you’d spoken them out loud in this cavernous apartment. He takes a seat in his plush chair and sips his drink, savoring the familiar burn of the scotch.

He thinks back to when you both were kids.  

Your father -- one of the few decent men in his own father’s inner circle -- didn’t bring you around much.  He can only recall a few social functions you’d attended before taking off to university.  News of your father’s death came shortly after that and it had been years since Namjoon had even spared a thought for you.

Then you came walking through his office door.

You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, that much was clear.  

What was much less clear was why you -- a college graduate -- turned up one day, desperate for a job.  He hadn’t questioned your need for fast work and fast money and you hadn’t questioned the long hours and strange requests.

You repaid him with a flawless work ethic.

And he repaid you by fantasizing about fucking you blind over his desk basically every chance he got.

So yeah, there was a problem, all right.   

The problem was Kim Namjoon.

*********************

“There you are.”

The voice on the other end of the line practically slithers into Namjoon’s ear when he answers the late call. 

“Mina,” he sighs, infusing the name with a displeasure that comes through loud and clear across the connection.  “This line is for business only, you know that.”

Mina makes an exasperated sound.

“I wouldn’t have to call your cell if you’d return my messages from the office.  I’ve been trying to reach you for more than two weeks now. I’m starting to feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Namjoon pulls the phone away to allow himself a long exhale before putting it back to his ear.

“How did you get this number?”

“You’re hung up on that?” Mina groans. “Honestly, Namjoon.  I reached out to your new assistant who was more than happy to pass it along.”

Fuck. He’s going to have to fire the new girl, isn’t he?

“She’s a nice girl,” Mina muses.  “Far more competent than that last assistant of yours.  Excellent decision on replacing that woman if she fails to complete a task as simple as delivering a message. Three messages, actually.”

Namjoon mulls that information over in silence.

“Where is your mind these days, Mr. Kim?” Mina tries to cover her displeasure with a laugh but he hears it anyway.  “You’ve been so distant lately.  It’s been too long since we had the chance to enjoy one another’s company.”

Namjoon can envision the pout she is wearing on the other end of the line and it aggravates him beyond belief.  Pouting ranks near the very top of his least favorite female manipulation tactics. 

Pouting makes him want to put his fist through a wall.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he mutters.  “I’m here.”

“Are you drunk?”

Namjoon grits his teeth, fingers tightening around his glass.

“No, Mina,” he grinds out. “Not drunk. Just not in the mood.  Not anymore.”

She sputters on the other end of the line as Namjoon ends the call.

Maybe he should feel bad about being so blunt, but he doesn’t.  It’ll be a week before she’s onto the next wealthy, connected man.  Women like Mina make sport of locating and latching on to power. 

She’ll survive.

Namjoon stares out into the night sky and sips his scotch, letting his mind wander back to the one piece of the conversation that did capture his interest.

What are the chances that you -- a woman with seemingly unerring attention to detail -- forgot to deliver three separate messages from the same caller? 

He contemplates that in the dark.

How odd.

***********************

YOU

Kim Namjoon was the most serious boy you’d ever seen. 

Even as a young man, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. You can still close your eyes and remember exactly how he looked back then -- standing solemn at his father’s side, lanky body swimming in a suit he’d not yet grown into.  His hair just a touch too long and falling into his eyes.  

You thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Korea.

Namjoon kept mostly to himself -- no easy task given that his status alone made him the most celebrated catch amongst the children of the Gajog.  

Everyone fought for the attention of the boy who would be king.  

It would have been so easy for him to abuse the power he had over his peers, to treat them with disrespect, but Namjoon never did.  You noticed how kind he was to the children who idolized him.  You noticed how well he managed the volatile moods of his alcoholic father.  You noticed how he hovered protectively over his sister.  

He never noticed you, of course.

Your own father was careful to limit your exposure to the Gajog and as such, you lived on the outskirts of the social circle.  By the time you were a teenager, you’d only spoken to Namjoon directly a handful of times.  The few times you did see him face-to-face, you’d had to suffer through that awkward moment before his eyes lit with recognition.  

It always took a minute for him to remember who you were, but when he finally did -- every time he finally did -- your heart would stop just a bit at his shy smile.  

That was the image you held on to when you held your breath and walked into his office a few months ago.  You’d taken a deep breath and prayed that the quiet, kind kid you’d known so long ago hadn’t changed too much over the years.  And then you stepped into his posh office.

Kim Namjoon definitely wasn’t a kid anymore.

The Namjoon who stood up from behind his desk to bow a greeting was nothing short of devastating.

Standing in place of the slender boy from your childhood was a man with deep, dark eyes and a striking, angular face.  His suit -- cut to fit every line of his body to an exacting standard -- did nothing to conceal his powerful frame.  He had grown into the full lips that once seemed a bit too large for his face. 

Without a doubt, he’d become the most handsome man in all of Korea.

The shy smile remained, though -- dimples prominent when Namjoon extended a hand to shake yours and you woodenly accepted, blinking back.  You’d realized, absently, that you were gawking.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed the same thing.

If Namjoon had picked up on your mortifying reaction to seeing him after all these years, he was far too much of a gentleman to let on.  He’d offered you a seat and then listened patiently as you explained that you were in need of a job -- any job -- so long as you could start right away.

You left out the painful details, of course.  

Namjoon nodded quietly as you outlined your education and qualifications and emphasized your willingness to serve the Gajog in any role he saw fit.  His eyes were warm and reassuring as you spoke, but you still braced yourself for the possibility that he’d send you away empty handed.

He didn’t.

At the end of your impassioned speech, Kim Namjoon made you an offer you could not refuse.  

Reporting directly to him and starting right away.

***************************

The serious boy you’d known so many years ago had grown into an even more serious man.

It didn’t take long on the job to notice the bone-deep melancholy that seemed to emanate from Kim Namjoon.  He was good at concealing it in front of others but you saw it clearly.  The way he would stand at his window at night, drink in hand, brooding.  The way the shadows behind his eyes would surface when he thought no one was looking.

But you were always looking.

You wanted so badly to help.  

You wanted to do something to help ease the burden he seemed to carry around at all times.  So you threw yourself into the work, memorizing his routines and taking note of the things he needed.  You organized his files.  You streamlined his schedule.  You ran interference on Yoongi and Hoseok and Seokjin on the nights when his moods turned dark and ominous.

Tiny gestures, in the grand scheme of things -- but there were days when you could convince yourself the gestures made a difference.

Days when Namjoon would look at you with a quiet appreciation that made you feel heat down to your toes.  Days when his eyes would soften as you’d instinctually met some need he hadn’t voiced out loud. Days when the darkness inside of him seemed to recede and one of those heart-stopping shy smiles would emerge.

You convinced yourself over time that this was enough --  that taking care of him like this would be enough for you.

It had to be enough. 

To allow yourself to imagine otherwise was nothing short of delusion.  

**********************

“Eomma?” 

You call out into the quiet as you lock the door behind you.  You can barely make out the sound of your mother’s soft reply from her bedroom.

This is where she spends most of her days now, shuffling between her bed and her chair, too weak to stand for more than a few minutes at a time.  Pill bottles litter the nightstand, obscuring the yellowing photograph of your parents as newlyweds.  

“My sweet Ttal,” she rasps, voice hoarse from disuse, “You’re home.”

“I am,” you sigh, sweeping into the room and pulling off your coat.  You bend down to drop a kiss on her forehead before taking a seat at her side.  Your mother’s once-luminous skin is now spotted with age, eyes cloudy and dull, but she is still one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.   

She flinches when you take one of her hands into your much colder ones.

“Sorry,” you murmur, massaging over the paper-thin skin.  “It’s freezing outside.  I should have warmed them first.”

She gives your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Home early again,” she croaks.  “Is everything okay at work?”

Her innocent question brings the sadness simmering just under the surface of your thoughts back to a full boil.  You still can’t understand why Namjoon chose to reassign you -- and you still can’t forget the sting of getting the news secondhand from your replacement.

Your face falls at the memory and you hope your mother doesn’t notice.  

The last thing you’d want to do is add worry to her already long list of concerns.

“Yes, Eomma,” you soothe, smoothing back her hair.  She leans into your touch with a tired smile.  “Everything is fine.  My new boss doesn’t keep me as late as the old one did.  But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Right,” she agrees, closing her eyes.  “Mrs. Sim left just a short while ago.  She brought some Japchae for dinner.  Not as good as mine, but not half-bad, either.”  

You laugh at the way the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile at her jest.  

People like Mrs. Sim are in large part why you’ve fought so hard to keep your mother here in your childhood home.  The financial strain has been tough -- particularly when paired with the medical bills -- but you need the help.  With no siblings to share your burden, you’ve had to lean on the goodwill of longtime neighbors.

“Leave Mrs. Sim and her Japchae alone mother,” you tease, standing to stretch.  “I’m going to get a shower before bed.”

Your mother makes a noise that sounds like approval, but you can tell she’s already drifting off again.  

She’s on so many pills these days; a blessing and a curse.  More pills means less pain and better rest -- something she desperately needs.  But more pills also means far fewer moments of lucidity -- much shorter windows of time for you to enjoy your mother’s quick wit and dry humor.

She’s back in a sleep state before you even make to stand.  You stroke your fingertips across her face just as your phone pings in your pocket.  You pull it out and very nearly dismiss the routine banking alert altogether -- but something catches your eye.

You swipe into the app to confirm you’re seeing the numbers correctly -- that your tired eyes and tired mind aren’t playing games with you.  

They aren’t.

The direct deposit of your paycheck is coming on the date it should, at the time it should.  But the number glaring back at you from the screen is higher -- much higher -- than it should be.

A demotion and a raise in the span of one week?

How odd.

******************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

tag list: @barbikatherine​

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. There was a person saying they want Demeter and Hades to be friendly with each other. I understand their relationship in the myth is not that because Hades took Persephone from her and asked Zeus not Demeter (I guess in ancient greece it was more customary to ask the father and not the mother) I'm kinda confused

From OP: I had to fix some of this ask (spelling) because I couldn’t understand it at all. So, I’m sorry to the anon if this isn’t exactly what you were saying.

2. I’m sorry but a confident and talented writer should not be taking suggestions from their fans for plot ideas. If she wants feedback that’s one thing, but straight up telling her what to write? That’s not good? 

3. Just get ready for LO fans to claim the bestseller lists are rigged because LO .1 only ranked showed up on two lists (#4 for USA Today, which is good!) and #58 on Amazon (which is slowly dropping) and didn’t rank on anything else, especially not NYT like they were gearing up for. 

4. Honestly I feel like RS butchered Persphones character. Season one she’s shy naive, but talented amd smart with hints of blowing up. Season two she’s everything and anything, she’s not a special goddess just the most powerful beautiful intelligent goddess there ever was. Remember when school was important to Persphone? Not anymore she just wants to take over the underworld with hades only doing 1 month of classes. Oh and future dread queeen? She still crying her eyes out during the trial. Persphone was hinted to be more than what she is. 

5. oh no, not LO not making NYT like Webtoons desperately wanted and LO fans screaming foul about it. Anyway -

6. if one of her tumblr followers suggested persephone be r//ped to make LO "more mature" and she seriously went with it to seem like a Big Serious Wrier™️ then we need to find that person and beat them up. violence is no the answer but it is now.

7. i agree w/ other anon. i would have loved if LO was more a look into Persephone's newfound freedom and life as a young adult and then at the very end she meets Hades and it's a wink to the camera about what comes next, but no, let's have this weird, convoluted mess instead of themes Rachel can't depict well and having it more of how Hades "deserves" her while Persephone just floats through the aether of a "plot".

8. Rachel trying to do mature themes is exactly what pushed LO into territory she can't write. There's nothing wrong with it being light, and tbh it benefitted from being that way instead of dark and heavy like mythology is. Idk why she'd make that change when most people wanted a light read and the "mature" themes she can' depict well easily one of the most critiqued and disliked parts about LO as a whole.

9. bruh ive seen so many LO stans be so cruel to other webtoons because theyre not what they like. They nearly ruined the creator behind HxP ficlets' career because they mass spammed her, they harass the PW creator on all her episodes, they harass the BIPOC and LGBTQ+ webtoon creators all the time, they even fight amongst themselves over any disagreement. They have no foot to stand on when they're easily the most hostile and toxic fandom in recent memory.

10. sorry but this whole trial plotline reminds me of the ongoing kenosha trial where the literal murderer is crocodile crying hes just. a kid and is innocent and doesnt deserve punishment (he's even babied by his mother!) and much like lo persephone i just know both of them will get off because theyre privileged brats who will get away with literal murder. i know rachel couldn't have planned for that to be a near perfect comparison but maybe that proves the AOW was a bad idea to begin with.

[blacksunscorpio]

The Planets, Elevated

Sun

As the Most Elevated indicates a drive to express one’s creative essence and core ego values before the world. This individual will shine amongst their circle of peers. This person’s 15 minutes of fame can extend to a lifetime of fame in one area of life or another. The world is a stage they play on. They were put here on earth to display their creative gifts and talents. They tend to be leaders. Tend to be worshipped. Popular. If the elevated planet is conjunct the Midheaven, this is a strong indicator of celebrity. Martin Luther King had his Sun in Capricorn as the Zenith of his chart. Albert Einstein’s Sun was his most elevated as well.

Moon

As the Most Elevated is more inverted than the Sun. Whereas those born with the Sun highest in the chart can feel an urge toward leadership or expressing their egoic and creative impulses in a public way, those with the Moon highest are more often drawn to project their personality or their emotions into the spotlight. Many actors and musicians have this placement. Individuals with the Moon at the Zenith of their chart can become well-known for their nurturing talents. Their emotions. Their moods and the creativity surrounding them. Their temperament and what they create with them/ expressing their emotions to the public can gain them notoriety. The late John Lennon of Beatles fame had his Moon as his most elevated. Academy Award winner, Meryl Streep’s most elevated planet is the moon as well.

Mercury

As the Most Elevated indicates a native with an urge to project one’s ideas or verbal skills before the world. They will find many ways to get their voices out there or “broadcasted to the public”. The sign the Planet is in indicates how this will be done. This individual will be renowned for their linguistic, mental, and/or intellectual talents. Could become well known for their teaching abilities, writing abilities, communications abilities, or public relation abilities. Writer Sylvia Plath had Mercury in intense Scorpio as the highest planet in her chart.  

Venus

As the most elevated indicates a desire to project beauty and/or harmony in some way before the public. Widely desired/admired.  Marilyn Monroe was born with Venus as her highest planet, and she became virtually synonymous with mainstream ideals of beauty. They will be the Models, the creatives, The fashionistas, the person with a “nice girl or nice guy” persona.  This placement often leads to occupations directly or indirectly involved with aesthetics and design. Tom Hanks, widely considered as Hollywood’s nicest leading man [A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, anyone?] has Venus as his most elevated. Marilyn Monroe and David Bowie both did as well.

Mars

As the most elevated Indicates a drive to project energy and strength before the world. Muhammed Ali had Mars as his most elevated planet. Ruthless ambition. Renowned undefeated heavyweight champion in boxing. Martial arts ruled his life and where he received the most notoriety. Definitely a feisty placement as well as one that will make the native hard to ignore. This placement indicates a leader. The types to set shit off. The type to be the “boss” in whatever field of work they choose. Spearhead some sort of militant movement. The ‘Gangster” placement. Very often seen in the charts of those who take part in sports. Franklin D. Roosevelt had Mars as his most elevated planet and he was the driving for behind America’s decision to partake in WWII. Founding father of the Mafia Lucky Luciano also had Mars at the zenith of his chart.

Jupiter

As the most elevated Indicates there is confidence about matters of career or dealings with the public. As a result, this is one of the leading chart indicators of popularity and success, as well as general “good luck,”. Global awareness, travel, teaching, and philosophical/spiritual matters will be their forte. The “prophet” or “guru” aspect. Someone who’s calling in life may involve lots of travel or they can be a “citizen of the world”. Angelina Jolie has Jupiter at the highest point in her chart and not only was her film career a huge success, but she also became a bit of a 2nd Mother Teresa, traveling internationally to adopt children, and doing humanitarian work worldwide. There is also an interest in different spiritual teachings [i.e the Cambodian prayer tattoo on her left shoulder blade.]  This is one of the hardest-hitting horoscopic indicators of popularity and success, as well as general “fortune/luck” in life. Basketball heavyweight Michael Jordan has Jupiter at the Zenith of his chart as does Kim Kardashian. This is also an indicator of one who can become famous or well known for their ideas/thoughts on spirituality. If Jupiter is in Virgo, the native can become renowned for their writings on esoteric or spiritual matters.

Saturn

As the most elevated Like Jupiter, Saturn near the top of one’s chart can show considerable success and prominence in one’s life. But unlike Jupiter, this usually involves far more work and a few tough building blocks along the way. There’s a “late bloomer” quality to the lives of these natives. Many instances, they can experience great struggle in building their career and reputation — that constant ‘between a rock and a hard place”. Yet these people often live to see great rewards and prestige as a result of said hard work. The types to be in inevitable positions of authority in whatever they do but also the types to hold themselves to impossible standards. They must be the best. They will often become well known/ be in positions that involve structure. For example, Queen Elizabeth has this placement, I don’t know a life more structured than the life of a monarch. Spanish artist Picasso was born with Saturn in Taurus as his highest planet; he was subject to enormous criticism regarding his art early on, but eventually found prosperity and fame as a result of his discipline and productivity. Bill Clinton has Saturn at his Zenith and became the leader of the free world. Jazz musician Louis Armstrong rose from an intensely difficult childhood in Louisiana to become a pioneering artist admired by audiences all over the world.

Uranus

As the most elevated indicates a native who possesses a fiercely independent streak and a desire to pursue uniquely personal or unconventional life paths. The weirdo who becomes famous for being.. well, a weirdo. Needless to say, this generally makes it difficult for these people to adapt to rigid routines and structured environments, and in terms of career, they like to have/need as long a leash as possible. They think outside the box and as a result, can gain prestige for doing just that. The “fuck it I do what I want” aspect. This attitude may make them famous and even admired. Geniuses. Actor Steve McQueen had Uranus in Aries as his highest planet, and virtually became Hollywood’s poster boy for the ‘Rebel’ archetype. He also spent time in reform school as an adolescent. The late great Nipsey Hussle had Uranus at the Zenith of his chart and he lived his life in unapologetic opposition to the law being part of the Rolling 60′s Crip gang. You can see this rebel spirit in many of his songs that went platinum. Many Astronauts including Edgar Mitchell have this placement. Those with Uranus as their most elevated see “beyond”. This also indicates the maverick spirit of innovation. This placement is often connected to technology or the media [remember, Uranus has an ‘electric’ energy to it]. A prime example is Apple computer founder Steve Jobs who had Jupiter and Uranus in conjunction as his highest point.

Neptune

As the most elevated indicates a spirit of “reaching for the stars”. I see this planet most elevated in the charts of those renowned for their artistic talents. ESPECIALLY in music and the arts. Many actors have this placement, which is fitting considering Neptune is the planet of dreams/fantasy, and actors are paid to pretend to be someone else. Famous for the mask they wear. Powerful spiritual impulses. An inspiring individual. Can become famous/well known for their idealism or the spiritual messages they send out to the world. When well aspected or unafflicted it can indicate an individual who can become revered for their fantastical ideas. Walt Disney’s most elevated planet was Neptune and I feel many of us can agree that his classic works of fantasy shaped our childhoods. His billion-dollar empire still stands today decades after his death. Elevated Neptunian Bruce Lee not only brought martial arts to the attention of thousands but also expounded on its spiritual philosophy in writings and interviews. He even created Jeet Kune Do, a martial art deeply rooted in spirituality, wrote a book about it, too. 44th President Barack Obama has Neptune as his most elevated planet and his campaign slogan “hope” gave many just that during the 2008 election. An affliction to this most elevated planet can still make one very well known but not necessarily for the best reasons.  When afflicted it can be a dangerous placement and one can suffer or make others suffer from fanatical or delusional teachings. Cult leader Jim Jones had Neptune has his most elevated and his spiritual teachings resulted in the death of hundreds of naive and innocent people due to drugged [Neptune] kool-aid.

Pluto

As the most elevated indicates that an individual’s career or sense of “calling” will be involved with any or all 8th house dealings. Sexuality, death, transformation, secrets, the occult. Megan Fox has Pluto at the highest degree in her chart, though she is a Taurus, her MC is in Scorpio and conjunct her Pluto which is the most elevated. She comes off an undeniable Sex [Plutonic/8th house] symbol. Same for the late great musician Prince, who was very public about sexuality. Vladimir Putin, President of Russia has his Pluto closest to his MC and he was a KGB spy. This is definitely a placement of someone with considerable power. Not one to be underestimated. Capable of covert manipulation and may/can become famous for it. They may also become well known for dealing with dark matters. Jack Kerouac, who celebrated the bohemian “underworld” had his Pluto elevated. Mary Shelly, author of Frankenstein became renowned for a book that had to do with a monster made of dead bodies transformed through supernatural means. It is now one of the first books parents will read to their children on Halloween.

Honorable Mentions

There’s been an ongoing discourse about Asteroids/Hypothetical Points being considered “elevated.” It’s a topic of debate within the astrological community. However, if we are to entertain them, this is what they can mean:

Chiron

As the most elevated indicates a calling in life dealing with healing. Dealing with the pain of others and making things better for them. A teacher that is known for helping others find their way.

Lilith

As the most elevated indicates an individual feared and admired for their rebellious sexual spirit. The seductress/seducer. The individual can become loved or hated for their ability to put their wily charms on both men and women. Audrey Hepburn had Lilith at the zenith of her chart, quite close to Saturn near the MC.

Juno

As the most elevated planet may become famous for their marriages or whom they are married to.

Vesta

Famous for their devotion or well known for becoming homemakers.

Pallas

As the most elevated can indicate someone known for their wisdom. How they temper their instincts with discretion.

[joheun-saram]

Christmas Under Wraps (ksj)

Summary- You always wanted to work in a small town, and when you finally got matched to a small hospital in Alaska for your one year sabbatical you never would’ve thought you’d be in a place where everyone believed Santa was real. Mass hysteria or magic? Only time will tell.

word count- 12k

pairing- nurse!Seokjin x doctor!Reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut

warnings- very bad puns, me having no knowledge of Alaska, cheating, shitty parents, mentions of the horrendous Mario movie, softdom!Jin, whiny!Jin, explicit sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), edging (kinda), multiple orgasms, too many references to Santa

a.n- Part of @suhdays​ Hallmark Holiday Collab! Please check other beautiful holiday pieces written by some amazing writers. Full disclosure, this fic took me more than a month to write, mostly because I have only seen like three Christmas movies, and one of them was Die Hard and the other was Nightmare before Christmas, so please let me know what you think! Was this Christmasy enough for you? 

s/o to the amazing @namyoongles​ for the banner! ily! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“Mr Henderson, I really need you to watch your carbohydrate intake. Your blood sugar indicates pre-diabetes and with your history of angina, it really is important that you keep this in check. I’m going to need you to do a monthly fasting glucose check for the next three months so we see some results. Okay?”

You look over at the smiling overweight septuagenarian seated in front of you. Mr Henderson was one of your favourite patients, one of the few you knew well enough to remember even his grandchildren’s name. You loved that. Being a doctor in a busy hospital in Manhattan made making a lasting connection with a patient a rare occurrence, and although you were worried about his health, you were happy you the last appointment of your five years of residency was with someone you knew.

“Doc, I’m old. A little dessert never hurt anyone huh?” Mr Henderson joked, as he patted his stomach, the buttons of his shirts working hard to keep it together.

“I’m serious, Mr Henderson,” you speak sternly, looking up from your iPad screen at the man in front of you, just as your attending walks in through the door.

“Well, Mr Henderson you better listen to Dr. Y/L/N. She’s the best we’ve got and she will keep calling you in for appointments even if she isn’t here!” She adjusts her glasses, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, as the two delve into a conversation about her upcoming retirement. You were sad to see your mentor and friend retire, but if you were being honest, it was that fact that gave you the courage to make your big move. 

Your colleagues and friends were shocked when you announced that you were moving to Alaska. You had always been the top of your program and had an assortment of top specialization programs to choose from. In fact, your father was the most shocked. He expected you to follow his footsteps and specialize in internal medicine from the prestigious program at John Hopkins. He had even spoken to one of his friends on the admission board to ensure your acceptance. 

He almost choked on his dinner when you mentioned that you had accepted the family medicine specialization program in the small town of Elophtron in Alaska. He was livid, having never even heard of the town, let alone the program, deeming it unworthy of his 28 year old prodigy. But that’s the thing. You were twenty eight. There was no way you would let your father, or anyone for that matter, dictate what to do with your career. 

The only person who seemed to support your decision was your long term boyfriend, Jiho, who seemed ecstatic at the news. He was the first person you told. You were nervous when you broke the news, the two of you had been a little distant the past few months, but your worries were assuaged when he pulled you in a tight hug excitedly telling you how proud he was of you. He knew how much you wanted to take a break from the city, and seeing his enthusiastic support made you confident you were making the right move.

Born and raised in New York City, the overcrowded bustle of the city thrummed through your veins. While you did pride yourself on being a true New Yorker, you would be lying if you said that you were happy here. It was easy to be lost here, to be forgotten amongst the millions of faces crossing the streets. As often as the city lights cheered you up, they also suffocated you. 

The city was cold, a criss cross of concrete and beautiful glass towers housing lonely, selfish souls that didn’t mind tripping over the people sleeping in the streets. People here craved to be noticed, craved to live lavishly, and while you were born into what most craved, what you wanted was the solace of a town where everyone knew each other. A town where you could make lasting relationships that didn’t rely on your last name or where you graduated from.  Elopthron, although a terribly sci-fi sounding town name, was your reprieve from the smog filled mundane.

The days leading up to your departure were full of excitement. You packed quickly, your closet surprisingly fitting into two bags that barely avoided the baggage limit. Your friends hosted a cute little going away party, full of champagne and promises to visit, while your parents hosted a cold dinner, full of lectures and judgement. As your flight landed in Juneau, your heart was beating with nerves. This specialization was at the town’s only hospital, the fact that all the town’s medical talent was under one roof had you excited to learn. Not only that, but the program stated that you would get the opportunity to run things and you couldn’t wait to put your leadership skills to the test again - you were the chief resident at your old hospital and you couldn’t say that the role didn’t suit you.

Collecting your bags, albeit with a little struggle, you reach the doors to the arrivals where the hospital had told you to meet the driver. That is another thing about this dream opportunity, they not only ensured you had a ride into town, but even provided you with your own apartment. To your shock, the driver you meet takes you not to a car but another plane, a small little thing that shakes with every gust of wind. 

It makes you nervous, the shaking rattling your heart around your chest, but the view of the snow covered mountains takes your breath away. You were never one to swoon over nature, preferring your apartment to the hiking trips Jiho got excited about, but seeing the fresh untouched snow stirred something in you. It promised fresh starts and unchartered challenges, and that made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

The feeling didn’t subside even when you made yourself comfortable in your new apartment. The warm wooden finishing was a stark contrast to the metal of your home in Manhattan and as you started the fire before hanging your clothes in the small wardrobe in the corner of your room, you couldn’t stop the grin etching across your features. You were finally here.

The apartment was on the first floor of a two storey complex. It was much smaller than your expansive home, but instead of suffocating it felt cozy. The front door opened to a small hallway furnished simply with a cute oak shoe rack and a full length mirror. It led to an open concept kitchen and living room, separated by a breakfast island. The living room had a large fireplace, stack of wood next to it, and a large yellow couch opposite it. Furnishing was minimal, but your bedroom boasted a large queen sized bed, anchored on each side by matching nightstands and a wardrobe in the corner. 

It was everything you didn’t know you craved as you settled in your bed for the night, noting to thank the hospital for even providing the bedding. As you stared at the wooden slats that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom, you felt comforted. It was unlike your home, where the high ceilings made you feel cold and alone, even when Jiho stayed over. Perhaps you needed this new beginning more than you thought.

The morning was not as serene however, as you somehow managed to turn off your alarm without waking up and were running half an hour behind schedule when you realised you didn’t have a coffee maker. Scrambling out into the cold early December weather you pulled your expensive but utterly useless coat around you as you followed your map app to the closest and seemingly only coffee shop on the one strip of shops the town boasted.

Checking the time to see you still had about half an hour till work started, you slowed down a little to take in the surroundings. Quaint did not cover how cute the small town was. The main strip was a large two way street with a row of little independently owned shops on either side with names such as Once Upon a Book, A Nick in Time, and Thorns and Roses. You didn’t know what these shops housed, although you could guess some, and you couldn’t wait to explore. The cutest thing about the shops was how festive everything looked, fairy lights strung everywhere, mistletoe and wreaths in every window. Like you had stepped into the Grinch’s nightmare, and it was barely October. This might possibly be the most fairytale like town you’d ever stepped foot into. 

You easily located the small coffee shop, chuckling at the ostentatious pink board reading Bean There. It seemed more like an 70’s style diner than a coffee shop, filled with small vinyl tables, each with a small Christmas tree on it. Making your way to the counter, you ordered your usual, blond roast coffee with a splash of almond milk.

“Oh sorry hon. We only have normal coffee and cow’s milk,” the older woman standing behind the cash register answered with a jolly laugh, pouring coffee from a pot into a red to-go cup. Before you could say anything, she continued. “Besides, that’s some hippy stuff. We’ve been drinking cow’s milk for generations and our family has never been healthier! I swear these trends are killing the economy!”

And she talked, going on and on about the benefits of milk giving you no time to interrupt as she poured a copious amount of milk into your coffee making it resemble a latte. You were about to give up and forego the coffee this morning till someone behind you decided to speak up.

“Doris! What did we say about forcing the tourists to drink your farm’s milk?” You followed the deep, joyous voice to its owner, blinking a few times as you registered the tall, dark haired man behind you. Oh and what a man he was. 

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt under a fur-lined denim jacket, your eyes zeroed in on his broad shoulders. The instant attraction you felt to this stranger had heat rising up your neck. Emboldened by the fact that you would probably not see this stranger again, you let your eyes roam his body, biting your lip slightly, till your eyes met his, a small smirk on his lips. Clearing your throat you awkwardly stepped forward.

“It’s okay. No problem, Doris, was it?”

“No no. You want almond milk, you get almond milk! Doris I know for a fact you have it back there!” The stranger stops you from grabbing the drink on the counter, a hand held up.

“Seokjin! I see how it is! Just because a pretty girl wants almond milk, you share but not when Jeremy wanted to try it.” Doris huffs, straightening her bright yellow apron.

“Jeremy was drinking it as a dare, and I’d rather not waste one of the ten cartons that Dosey orders every month on stupidity.”

“Um… Really it’s fine! I’m going to be late for work so… thank you!” You try to escape. As much as your lactose intolerant gut was wincing at the thought of almond milk, you had spent way more time here than you planned.

“Wait, work? Hon you’re not a tourist at all! Where are you working?” It seemed you only made the conversation more interesting as Doris looked at you beaming.

“At the hospital?”

“You’re the new doctor? Oh my! Welcome Doc! We’re so excited to have you here! I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of Seokjin then!” She slapped the stranger, Seokjin you suppose, on the shoulder as he stares at you with wide eyes before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“Doris! Will you just make the pretty doctor her drink then? Mine too please!” He leans on the counter and you can’t help but steal another glance at him. He really was oddly beautiful.

“Sure hon! Here you go!” Doris chuckled as she placed two coffees on the counter and you’re pleased to see yours looking exactly how you prefer. You take out your wallet before Seokjin stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Put it on my tab Doris. Here, let me walk you to work.” He guides you out of the little cafe, a hand hovering near the small of your back.

“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m going there myself.” 

“Oh. Are you a resident?” You did not expect that. By his attire you assumed he worked some manual labour, and by his face you assumed he worked as a model. Somehow you couldn’t picture seeing this man living at a library like you had your years of schooling.

“Nope. Head nurse. So Doris is right, you’ll be seeing me a lot.” He grinned at you, his cheeks puffing up in a way that made you want to poke them. What was in the air in this town? You needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh nice to meet you then! I’m -”

“Dr. Y/L/N from New York, right?” Seokjin cut you off before you could finish, looking at you over the lip of his cup as he sipped his coffee, casually guiding you down the main street towards the hospital.

“Right… Seokjin?”

“Yup. Kim Seokjin. How are you liking our little town so far?” He seemed genuinely interested and you smiled. It felt oddly comfortable even if you had inklings of butterflies swarming your belly.

“I love it. It’s really beautiful!”

“Oh wow. Didn’t expect a New Yorker to like it here. You know it’s always cold, right?” he smirked, slowing down as you reached a cute little pink house, before stopping completely.

“I can handle the cold. Wait, this is the hospital?” You looked at the house. It looked more like something a grandma would reside in than a hospital. You were used to glass buildings and top of the art hospitals. As you entered, the door opened to a large waiting area with faded vinyl chairs and a reception desk. It was cozy, but you couldn't believe this was the only hospital in town.

“The one and only. The town’s going to be so excited to finally have a doctor 

again!” His words made you sputter, almost choking on your coffee.

“What do you mean, finally? Where are the other doctors?”

“You’re it!” He grinned.

This was not according to plan. You were here to learn. Learn from people much more well-versed in medicine than you were. You did not expect to be the only doctor. Even if the town only had around 2,000 people, it was still outrageous that you would be the only person treating them, and in this small house. Does this place even have any imaging machines?!

As the day went on, your nerves only increased. Seokjin introduced you to the other people who worked at the hospital. There were only three others, two orderly, and another nurse. There were more people in your friend group of residents back home. This was scary, and as you laid in bed that night, all you wanted to do was talk to Jiho and get comforted. He didn't pick up, and you counted the slates on your ceiling to fall asleep, pushing your mind to rest no matter how alone you felt all of a sudden.

----------

Turns out you were not that alone. Within a month you had finally gotten into the groove of things. Your five-person team gelled together pretty fast, and soon you could anticipate each other's moves and even talk without words. Running a hospital, however, was not all you had cracked it up to be in your head. Although you didn't see too many patients daily, the paperwork kept you way past dinner most days. If it weren’t for Seokjin’s insistence to leave at the same time as you, you might as well had moved into your office.

All in all, it was nice. The town had welcomed you with open arms, and it was exactly what you were looking for when you left Manhattan - a place where everyone knew your name and not because of who your family was, where you could walk into a coffee shop and they'd know your order, where you knew your neighbours and attended extravagantly cheesy block parties. Elopthron had its quirks, how almost everyone here put way too much emphasis on Christmas, adults even going as far as pretending Santa Claus was real for the kids all the time. You weren’t kidding, one time a middle aged patient insisted on not ordering the brace he needed because he knew Santa would bring him one on Christmas. When you told Jenny, the other nurse, to do a psych evaluation, she just shook her head in amusement, thinking you were joking. “Of course Santa is real, Dr. Y/L/N. Here in Elophtron, Santa comes every Christmas with presents!” she had insisted, leaving you baffled. This town was absolutely bonkers, but it was starting to feel like home.

The only thing stopping you from feeling fully content was the fact that your parents were still icing you out and somehow regardless of being only four hours out of sync, Jiho and you had barely communicated this month. You would think you were being ghosted if it weren’t for his sporadic one liners.

You sighed as you looked over the budget for the month, the numbers somehow refusing to add up as you looked at your phone, the Instagram notification lighting it up. You could use a break, so you decide to scroll through your feed, only to stop abruptly at Jiho's new post.

Love my baby so much! Happy four months, beautiful.

It was a cute caption, if it weren't for the fact that you and Jiho had been dating for over four years, your anniversary was in March, and that he was kissing a stunning blond that you didn't recognize in the picture.

You looked at the picture again, closing the app and starting it again, just in case it was a glitch. Nope, apparently, Jiho had broken up with you and forgot to tell you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, but they weren't because of sadness. Oh no, you were furious. No wonder that fucker was so excited about your move.

You let out a huge groan, throwing your phone across the room, as you stood up and kicked your desk, tears now freely flowing. You couldn't believe the nerve. You hadn't expected this from him. In fact, much like a loser, you were expecting him to propose at Christmas. You thought back at how he had told you he loved you and called you beautiful, much like he was now professing to that new girl and it made your stomach twist. You wanted to break stuff. No, correction, you wanted to break his face.

You didn't realize you were rage pacing until Seokjin appeared in the doorframe, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing. In the past month, Seokjin had gotten surprisingly good at reading your moods. It was like he could see a slight change in your micro-expressions and be able to tell whether you need a coffee, a hug, or a walk. You were truly grateful for him, but at this moment you were afraid you were going to take out your anger on him so you tried to calm down. Stopping your pacing, you plastered a smile on your face.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Don't worry. Why are you still here?" Seokjin, however, didn't buy your flimsy excuse and pulled you in a hug. You felt yourself instantly calm. It was oddly intimate. He had hugged you before, but never like this. His arms were tight around your frame as your face met his chest, enveloping you in his vanilla scent. Your attraction to Seokjin had faded slowly over time, but right now as he tightened his grip around you in an effort to comfort you, your heart skipped a beat.

With your rage fast diminishing, all you had left was your heartbreak as you slowly started to cry in his chest. He didn't question you. His usually talkative personality, giving way to an understanding silence as he slowly rubbed your back.

When it seemed that you had calmed down, Seokjin pulled away, looking at you with concern. Without asking you for details, he suggested going on a drive. You accepted, knowing that if you just went home all you would do is wallow. You let him drive you to a burger joint, picking up your favorites, before getting back in his truck. The two of you drove for what seemed a long time, the food getting cold as soft pop music played in the background.

He never once pushed you to talk, letting you take in the trees lining the highway, as you watched the snow glittering in the moonlight on the banks. Finally, he stopped the truck, getting out before opening the door for you, taking your hand as you stepped down from the height.

The view blew you away. He had driven you to a field of sorts, getting the back of his truck ready with some blankets. But it wasn't the pine-lined field that took your breath away, it was the sky. Above you the navy hues of the night were alight in colour, pinks and greens blooming like waves in the sea. Stars prickled through occasionally as the weave of colours danced slowly, mesmerizing you. You don't know how long you stared at it in awe, but when you turned around, he was already sitting on the back of the truck, under a blanket, your food being taken out of bags.

He speaks for the first time when you settle next to him.

"You want to talk now?"

"I don't know." You shrug, rattling the ice in your cup as you swirl around your drink.

"It's okay if you don't want to. Just... do you need to go back?" He seemed hesitant, almost disappointed, as he asked. It was endearing how much he cared about the town not being left without a doctor.

"No. Definitely not." You said firmly, staring at the sky, missing the way he smiled at you in relief. The last thing you wanted to do right now was go back to Manhattan so your parents could tell you how you failed and accidentally run into Jiho and his blonde. Hoping to deflect the conversation, you looked at Seokjin, his cheeks puffed as he took a big bite of his burger. "Seokjin, can you tell me something about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" He says, sipping his drink.

"I don't know. Anything."

"Hmm... well I'm a nurse and I’m the most handsome man in the world." He laughed, clapping his hands slowly as if applauding his own wit. You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile that made its way to your lips.

"Oh my god, you dork! Tell me something real. Tell me a secret." You bumped him with your shoulder.

"If I tell you a secret, will you tell me what's wrong?" You hummed, eyes wide in anticipation as you munched on your cold fries. "Well. I secretly kind of hate this small-town life."

His answer shocked you. In the month you’ve known Seokjin, he has been this little town’s biggest fan. With the number of people who greet him, and routinely give him presents, you don’t doubt he could easily be elected mayor. In fact, the chief of police even suggested using him as the town’s mascot, for crying out loud. 

“If you hate it why are you here?”

“Did you know I lived in San Francisco for ten years till last year?” You did not. You couldn’t imagine Seokjin amongst those tech snobs, nor could you imagine him in anything not flannel. “Yeah. I loved it. I worked at this amazing hospital and went out to all these clubs. I was kind of a party animal.” He chuckled, looking at his lap fondly as he picked at the blanket.

“Why come back?”

“Well… my family established this town. We were the first ones here and well I promised my dad when he died that I’d help continue the little traditions in this town.” He shrugged, his mouth a lopsided smile. “Promised him I’d raise my kids here. Family comes before fun.”

“That’s… wow. You must really respect your dad, enough to change your life for him,” you spoke softly, leaning into his lap a little to place your hand over his. “It must have been hard to lose him.”

“It was, but I hope I’m making him proud.” He gave you a genuine smile as he squeezed your hand, before tapping it. “Now enough about my emo self! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

And so you did. You spent probably three hours out in the cold, before calling it a night. You told him about Jiho and how he broke your heart, and he related by telling you about his own ex that had broken their engagement when he suggested the relocation. Spending time with Seokjin was comfortable, it was easy. There was something about him that warms you up, like hot chocolate on a snowy night.

You hadn’t been that vulnerable around anyone in a while. Your life in New York was calculated, you never knew who you could trust, and so you trusted no one. It felt oddly freeing to be able to talk about your heartbreak and insecurities with Seokjin, and after that night under the aurora borealis, you both became closer. Before, you would only see each other at work, but since then you had been hanging out outside of work a lot. Sometimes the two of you would grab dinner at the local diner, or he would pick you up for working, grabbing coffee and flirting with Doris shamelessly for freebies. The more you spent time with Seokjin, the more you realized how different he was from what you had assumed.

When you first got to know Seokjin, you thought he was hardworking and amiable, but now you knew his dorky side. The side that would come up after a glass of wine, when he would start cracking lame dad jokes, clapping his hands, and laughing at himself. The side that got especially shy, ears turning a bright red, every time you complimented him on anything, be it his work ethic, or a nice new shirt he bought. The side that would go on and on about the Mario universe, regaling you with details about why Wario was misunderstood, or why the movie should only be watched when wasted otherwise it was a waste.

To be honest, you never knew there was even a Mario movie, and when you told him such he gasped loudly, grabbing you by your shoulders and excitedly making plans to watch it together. You wouldn't tell anyone but with your newfound friendship with Seokjin, he had also gotten very comfortable touching you. Maybe it was the aftereffect of being so vulnerable around him that one time or the fact that you were trying to get over Jiho, but every time he pulled you into a hug or brushed past you it made your heart skip a beat. You controlled the flush slowly creeping up your neck, as you shrugged his hands off your shoulders and solidified your plans to watch the movie together.

True to his word, Seokjin showed up at your house with a case of beers, a local microbrew full of hops that made your tongue sing. Halfway through the movie, you had no idea what was happening, Mario and Luigi, who had terribly fake accents, by the way, jumping through trying to save the damsel in distress in what looked like an acid trip. The alcohol didn't help as the plot got more convoluted, but that didn't stop Seokjin from excitedly trying to help you decipher it.

You don't know when it happened, but his arm was around you, casually draped where your head met the couch, his fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as he sipped his beer. You took another sip of yours trying to calm yourself. No matter how many times you tried to focus on the colours exploding on the screen, all you could think about was your hammering heart as your skin heated up under his innocent touch. It wasn't when he abruptly pulled his arm away from you that you were broken out of reverie.

"So what did you think?" He asked excitedly, turning on the couch towards you, a leg moving up and under his other. You hadn't even realized the movie ended. Did they save the princess? Or was it their business they were trying to save? What was this movie even about?

"Um... it was something," you commented, hoping that the vague answer would satisfy him, as you chugged the rest of your beer.

"It's cause you're not drunk enough! Y/N! I told you, you had to get wasted to like this movie!" He whined, clumsily opening another bottle and handing it to you. You weren't drunk, he was right. You were on the right side of tipsy, just on the edge of jumping into oblivion. Seokjin on the other hand, seemed much more ahead of you as he struggled with the bottle opener.

Chuckling, you reached out and put your hands over his, helping him uncap his bottle. You didn't notice how close you had gotten until he whispered thanks and his breath ghosted the skin of your nose. Looking up, your breath hitched as you saw the look in his eyes. Usually filled with mirth, it was jarring to see him looking at you with want, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as they traced your features. You saw his eyes linger on your lips and all you could do was blink. You knew you should move away, he was coworker and friend, but you froze, the two of you lost in the silence.

He made the first move, bringing his hand to your face tentatively. You leaned into it, sighing a little, and that's when you felt his lips on yours. Soft, plush lips that you had imagined more than a few times this past month, molded around yours. The kiss was shy, a little soft as his thumb caressed your flushing cheek. Your hands still on top of his on the beer tightened as you deepened the kiss, and he followed, grunting slightly, his hand moving to the back of your head, angling it a little. You mewled when his tongue licked at your lip, granting him access as it roamed your mouth, easily taking charge as your heart exploded within your chest. You hadn't been kissed like this before, the balance of gentle and domineering, making your knees weak. You were glad you were seated because otherwise, you'd be on the floor.

You don't know how long you were kissing, but the spell was broken as his phone rang, making him pull away abruptly, lips swollen and face red. It took everything in you to not go in for seconds as your mouth followed his. He didn't oblige you though, as he pulled away, resting his hand on your waist as he reached for his phone.

"It's my mom. I'm sorry," he apologized with a pout that did not help how you were feeling. Finding it hard to speak, you simply nodded as if in a daze. His wide, grateful smile made you turn to putty as he answered, only to frown. Quickly ending the call, he grabbed your face and kissed you again, hard but quick, taking your breath away.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry." He looked at you, his forehead pressed against yours, as you blinked. Standing up from the couch, you straightened your t-shirt, as you walked him to the door. He stopped in front of it, his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, making you smile. You felt like a teenager who got to kiss their crush, it was bizarre. Pecking your lips a few times, he bid you goodbye, waving as he walked off, leaving his truck in your driveway.

Shutting the door, you giggled giddily, forgetting all about your earlier worries of maintaining a professional decorum, as your fingertips grazed your lips, still feeling the touch of his lips. That night he messaged you just once, and you reread the text over and over as you fell asleep.

Thanks for watching that stupid movie with me tonight. Can't wait to continue where we left off ;)

The next day you were extremely excited to go to work, changing your outfit multiple times before settling on a pretty pastel pink dress and leaving your apartment, noticing the truck was no longer in your driveway. Stopping by to grab a cup of coffee, you greeted Doris.

“Hi Doc! Happy last day to send Santa a letter!” she chirped as he poured your order. You shook your head in amusement. This was by far the weirdest aspect of this town. They were all so obsessed with Christmas, grown adults refusing to talk about how Santa doesn’t exist. It would be endearing, charming in a way if it weren’t for the fact that Bean There was the location where they collected these letters to Santa, and it was full of people scrambling to write. You would think it would be mostly kids, but you could spot Mr. Hernandez, a sixty year old retired lumberjack, scribbling away, as well as Molly, the recent college graduate. It seemed the town had no age limit when it came to believing in Christmas miracles. 

“Doris, I don’t know what’s in the air here, but you guys know Santa isn’t real right?” you whispered, not wanting to incite a full out riot, like you accidentally did when you first moved and made the same comment. Either this town was very much into the spirit of things or you were just too late to catch up to the mass group hysteria everyone seemed to be a part of.

“Y/N! You just have to believe, hon. I’m telling you every year, whatever you write on those letters comes through. I mean you can’t ask Santa for love or anything but anything material comes! Always. How else do you explain that?” You frowned as she pushed your coffee towards you. Sure, you didn’t have a logical explanation for that but that doesn’t mean Santa was real. However, you were in a great mood this morning, looking forward to seeing Seokjin, and so you acquiesced to Doris when she waved a piece of paper, writing the first thing that came to your head which was a snowglobe, since the shelves behind the counter was lined with about a thousand. You could use a cute one to put on your desk, if Santa was in fact real.

When you walked into the hospital, coffee in hand and pep in your step, you looked around for the familiar mop of dark hair, half expecting a ho ho ho, or some cheerful Christmas pun Seokjin usually pulled out in the morning, but you were met with an empty lobby. Even his office was empty. It was odd. He was usually the first one in after you. 

Walking into your office you felt your earlier excitement twist into nerves. What if he regretted last night? What if he thought you were unprofessional? But he had texted you, surely he couldn’t regret it too much, could he? Oh! He was so drunk last night. He probably regrets it and now finds it awkward to be around you. Technically he was your subordinate, so were you now one of those creepy bosses they show on television? Inviting your employees to your house to get them drunk and make them kiss you? This was bad. Your thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to focus on today’s schedule in front of you, before, thankfully, Jenny broke through them.

“Hey Y/N. I’ll be taking over Seokjin’s workload while he’s on vacation. Is there anything in particular you need help with today? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow the notes he left behind.” 

“Vacation?” you stammered, clearing your throat and taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah. He takes the ten days before Christmas off every year. Something about a family obligation.” She shrugged.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” You tried your best to not sound disappointed.

“It’s been on the calendar for years, doc.” Jenny chuckled as she walked out of your office, leaving you confused as you went to check the employee calendar and lo and behold, there it was ‘Kim Seokjin on vacation’, staring at you. You were annoyed. You expected at least some notice. Did he think he could just kiss you and then go off to wherever he was. Fuming, you opened your phone to text him.

So when were you going to tell me you were away for the rest of the month?

You waited a few minutes, staring at the screen, but when the message still showed unread you gave up and did what you do best when people piss you off. You worked. And you continued working for the whole week, till you were fed up with Seokjin. He had seemed so caring and then to ghost you out of nowhere? Sure, you can expect that perhaps his vacation slipped his mind, but did he suddenly lose his fingers? He couldn’t do you the courtesy of sending a text when you had left on what you thought were nothing but good terms? “Continue where we left off”, your ass.

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

It was two days to Christmas and you were bored. You parents had decided that since you were away, they were going to go on a cruise. Sick of scrolling endlessly through social media, envying your friends, you decided to take a walk to the only place open 24 hours in this town, the diner. It was 2 am and you didn’t think you would see anyone other than Mark, the friendly twenty-year old whose family owned the place.

You were enjoying your plate of fries, and a milkshake when the little bell above the door grabbed your attention off your phone and in walked the last person you expected to see - Kim Seokjin. He was dressed casually as always, his black parka over a white hooded sweater and dark jeans. It didn’t seem like he noticed you, waltzing over to the register to order a coffee as he sat on a stool, waiting for the fresh pot to brew.

Seeing his face, made you stupidly angry. You knew rationally that he didn’t owe you anything, you were just friends. Friends who shared a pretty nice kiss, but you were friends, you had no claim over him, but you still found yourself fuming and getting up from your booth to march over to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spoke in a normal volume, but Seokjin jumped high, his eyes widening as he put his hand on his chest, staring at you.

“Y/N! Um… what are you doing here so late?” He asked, his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at you.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” You crossed your arms, wanting answers.

“I can explain! I swear it is not what you think!” He jumped up from the stool, arms in front of him as he tried fruitlessly to calm you down.

“What is it, then? Did you lose your phone? Did you lose your head?” You scoffed, fully knowing that your comeback was far from witty, but you could barely think, indignation mapped onto your features.

“It’s not that… it’s just… I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even know if I can.” He rubbed the back of his head, his ears turning red, as they usually did when he was embarrassed. Seeing his demeanour suddenly made the pieces click in your head. There was only one reason people ghosted each other. It was a rejection. You felt your face heat up at the realization, feeling like you were going to cry. Oh, this was bad. You couldn’t believe you were about to shed tears over a kiss. You needed to get out of here.

“No need. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint.” You said quickly, your voice seemingly calm given the situation as you zipped up your parka and walked out of the diner, ignoring his calls of your name. If he really needed to explain himself, he could have followed you, but you walked the ten minutes to your apartment alone, burying yourself under the covers once inside. You didn’t realize that unwittingly you had been thinking about your future with Seokjin, picturing dates and waking up together when all he had been doing was figuring out a way to gently let you down. You decided to let yourself feel the sting, dampening your pillow cases, finding that somehow this hurt more than what Jiho did. Who knew the kind, wholesome small town boy could hurt you worse than a cold lawyer from New York?

----------

Having no close friends yet in town and not wanting to burden the nice people who invited you to their homes, you decided to pretend that you were going to New York over the holidays. You stocked up on enough groceries to get you through the New Years and decided to hide out in your apartment. You spent your time cleaning your apartment, doing skincare, reading the latest medical journals, and binging the Crown on Netflix. 

On Christmas morning, you decided to treat yourself for brunch, making an obscenely large stack of pancakes, piling it high with fruit and chocolate chips, and drowning it in maple syrup. Foregoing dressing up, you sat on your living room floor in your festive pajamas as you watched the political ongoing of the royal family, and enjoyed your sugar loaded creation. However, before you could truly dig into your pancakes, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

You didn’t know who would be knocking at your door this early and on Christmas. You weren’t expecting anyone and everyone knew you were supposed to be out of town. Sighing you begrudgingly rise as the tempo of the knocks increased. Huffing you opened the door to be greeted by none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you had the misfortune of seeing and jeans, with a campy Santa hat atop his dark hair. The forest green Christmas sweater, adorned with a stuffed Rudolph and what seemed like real mistletoe, also apparently lit up, the twinkling red and green lights on it glowed in the morning sun as little flurries collected in Seokjin’s hair. 

Regardless of the terrible wardrobe choice, you couldn’t deny the sudden pull you felt towards him, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him on your doorstep with a small box wrapped in shiny paper. However, you were nothing if not determined, so you schooled your initial wide eyed expression into a glare as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned into the door frame.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to give you your present.” Seokjin smiled as he brought the gift towards you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Seokjin, I don’t want you or your presents.”

“Not gonna lie, that kind of hurts.” He scratches the back of his head nervously, sending his hat askew as he sways a little on his feet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good,” you say as you move to close the door on his face. Not going to lie, you were pretty proud of your resolve. Before you could fully shut the door, Seokjin put his hand out to stop it, jumping a little when he saw the cold look in your eye. Stepping back sheepishly, he cleared his throat.

“Please Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead.” Still holding the door half closed, you stared at him, your resolve melting as he seemingly shivered outside.

“Can I at least come in? It’s kind of cold.” You rolled your eyes again, and acquiesced. Not because you wanted to hear him or be near him, but because he looked kind of pitiful shaking in the cold in a sweater that didn’t seem built for the Alaskan winter. Stepping aside you let him in your hallway, leaning against the wall, your patience at an all time low.  “Okay. So… um… how do I even start this?”

“Seokjin. Just say you don’t like me and go. It’s Christmas. The least you can do is be straightforward.” His stammering was infuriating. It made you want to kick him. However, as the words came out of your mouth, Seokjin looked shocked, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs as his mouth flew open. It was a pretty funny sight, and if you were less angry you would’ve chuckled.

“Why do you think I don’t like you? What?”

“Hmm… Let’s see you got drunk, you kissed me and then you disappeared! Like poof!” You gestured in the air with your hand, trying to make the point more apparent.

“Well that’s what I am trying to explain!” And now he was gesturing, his hand with the box rising in the air.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Just open this. It will help start my explanation.” He took your hand in his and placed the box on top of it. You eyed him suspiciously as you began to unwrap the iridescent paper. Inside the box was a snowglobe, the scene inside showing a field full of flowers with a small truck with two people on the hood. When you shook it, it came alive with glitter and tiny styrofoam flurries. It was very cute and very reminiscent of the night Seokjin and you first became friends. You loved it, but it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t petty enough to hide your true emotions to look at him with disdain.

“A snowglobe? Okay? So?”

“Don’t you wanna know how I knew you wanted this?” He spoke slow, his words and spaced out as he frowned at your scowl.

“I didn’t want this?” You matched his slow pace, enunciating each word as you raised an eyebrow in question. Why did he think you would want a snowglobe of all things? I mean he knew what you really wanted was those cupcakes that Doris only made once a month, you had told him how much you adored them on more than one occasion. If he wanted to be all romantic he could have at least bribed her for some of those!

“But… you asked Santa for it!” he sputtered, jogging your memory to remind you of the throwaway wish you made in the letter to Santa a few days ago.

“So you steal mail now? That’s a federal offence, you know.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No! No no no. I don’t steal mail. Unless it’s snail mail because it’s easy to catch.” He laughed at his own joke, but seeing your deadpan expression, he backpedaled, nervously running his hands through his hair again. “No? Okay, bad joke. But I didn’t steal it. You sent it to me! I’m Santa!” He was talking more with his hands than his words, waving them around in the air.

“Your excuse is that you’re Santa? How old do you think I am?” you scoffed, moving to push him out of the door, ignoring how solid his bicep felt under that ugly sweater. How was he not getting electrocuted by those stupid lights?

“No please don’t kick me out! I’m telling the truth!” Seokjin planted his feet in the ground turning around and looking at you with wide eyes, the cinnamon depths softening your anger as you sighed. This was so far fetched, the least you could do was hear him out. If nothing else, this would make a great story to share over drinks sometime.

“You have five minutes. And I’m eating my pancakes while you talk.” You let go of him as you walked into your living room, Seokjin close on your heels. You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and he followed suit, sitting much too close to comfort, his thigh grazing yours as he stared at your pile of sugar.

“Oh. Can I have some?” he asked, clearing his throat at your glare as you aggressively cut into a piece before stuffing your face. The nerve... “Sorry! Okay um… so did you think it was weird that the whole town just happened to believe in Santa?”

“I honestly was going to write a paper on mass hysteria, but yes.” You were much more interested now. You always did find the town's dedication to upholding the sanctity of Santa bizarre.

“Well, that’s because for almost a hundred years, people in this town have been getting what they wanted for Christmas, without fail.”

“Because you’re Santa?” You looked at him, waiting for him to explain only to be met with a soft smile as he nodded. His cheeks puffed up with his little smile and it took all of your willpower not to poke at them. Why did he have to be so cute when you were trying to be mad at him. Also, what grown man insists they're Santa? “So where are your elves? Is Rudolph just hiding in your truck?”

“I’ll have you know I’m an elf-made man!” He joked, his pun making you lose control as you let out a light laugh before remembering you were supposed to be mad and trying to hold a neutral expression. Seokjin, on the other hand, made no such effort, a wide grin adorning his features, making his eyes disappear beneath his squishy cheeks. “Hey got you to laugh! But no. No elves. Just me, well, and my family. It’s the family tradition I was talking about. For generations the Kims have been sending people in this town presents on Christmas in secret.”

“Wait how do you even afford this?” This made no sense. How was he buying these expensive presents, and also Santa was Korean? How did his family even hide this for so long? Why were these town people naive enough to believe this? How did he do deliveries? Did he work with Amazon? You had so many questions!

“Um… I’m kind of rich?” he replied sheepishly.

“Kind of? You give 2,000 presents a year!” Your pancakes were forgotten as you swiveled around to face him, your knees touching his thigh, momentarily distracting him as his eyes dropped to where you touched him, before following suit and facing you. The two of you sat cross-legged across from each other as he started what may have been the most useless and longest rant he embarked on since entering your home, talking animatedly as always.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! The point is the days leading up to Christmas are really hard and this year I had to figure out how to make the drones work and this kid wanted an exact replica of Han Solo’s gun and those are really hard to find and then Mr. Hernadez decided he wanted a rare Amazonian flower. Like where am I supposed to find a flower in December?! And don’t get me started on Doris she-”

“Seokjin. Relax. So you ghosted me because you’re Santa?” You placed your hands on his knees to get him to calm down as his face seemed so red from his rant you were worried you would have to resuscitate him if he didn't take a breath soon. He calmed down exponentially, taking a deep breath and locking his eyes with yours.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you and if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me till today anyway. And just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, placing his hand on top of yours on his knee as he held eye contact, and it seemed like you may forever get lost in his irises. He looked at you with such a sorrowful expression, that you weren't sure if the pout of his lips was exaggerated for effect or if it came naturally to him.

“I don’t know what to say… I kind of have regrets” You bit your lip as you gazed back at him with mischief.

“You do? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not like me back. Oh. I’m an idiot. Okay. I will see you at work. Happy holidays!” He spoke in flurried words as he tried to stand up before you stopped him mid-rise.

“Seokjin wait! That’s not the regret.” You were quick to stop him as he sank back down, a confused look on his face.

“It’s not?”

“No. I regret only asking Santa for a snowglobe! I should’ve asked for a car!” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh sure! What kind? I can get you a car.” He did not miss a beat before picking up his phone and scrolling through what you could only imagine being his gift list. Wait, were the Kims part of the mafia? You really should ask him where he gets all this money from someday. Nurses get paid pretty terribly, so it's definitely not that.

“Seokjin. I was kidding!”

“Oh. I knew that.” He put his phone down as he looked at you, blinking slowly a few times.

“So you like me.” You ask, leaning in slightly with a smirk.

“Yes.” He answered resoundingly, a determined look on his face as he leaned in as well. The two of you only a hair breadth apart.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You whisper, not wanting to break the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as you looked at his plush lips, before meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was lower, a little strained as he looked at you, his eyes jumping from each feature before settling on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Then come sit in Santa’s lap.” He leaned back, patting his lap with a smirk, making you blanch as you pull a disgusted face.

“Okay. I changed my mind.” You leaned back, before he came closer, his hands cupping your face.

“No no! Sorry! I just have always wanted to use Santa puns and you’re the only one outside of my family who knows and I don’t kn-” You cut off his rambling with a kiss, a soft, quick one on his lips that made his breath hitch. He recoiled a little in shock, staring at you before pulling your face to his and crashing your lips together.

This kiss was neither soft, nor short, but a flurry of emotions as you both tried to express what you couldn't in words. His lips were firm against yours as his hands moved down your body to pull you closer by the waist. A soft groan left his lips as you parted yours and he wasted no time starting to explore your mouth, his tongue meeting yours. His plush lips moulded against yours and you couldn’t help the moans that fell out of your mouth. You had missed his mouth against yours, the feeling as refreshing as the crisp sun after a blizzard. He tasted like coffee and you sucked at his tongue with fervour, eliciting a shocked moan from him as his hands left your waist to find your ass, gripping it harshly to pull you into his lap. You wasted no time straddling him, as you grind your core against him, making him groan. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled apart to catch his breath. Staring down at your heaving chest, he traced his hands on your hips, before breaking into a smirk. Gone was the rambling man from earlier, his eyes clouded with lust as he took you in. He leaned closer, his lips on your neck as he kissed from your collarbone peaking through your thin pajama top to your ear.

“Now that you’re finally in Santa’s lap, tell him what you want for Christmas.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. Wow, he really was not going to let this go. You groaned in annoyance, cupping his face to pull him away from your ear to face you, ignoring the pout on his face.

“For you to shut up.” You kissed him, tilting his head slightly to give you access, before he pulled away, shaking your hands off his face till they rested on his broad shoulders.

“Come on! Let me have this!” He whined, his pout bigger as he looked at you with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his antics, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss, missing the taste of his lips already. His hands moved from your hips to the hem of your shirt, slowly moving up under it, tracing over your ribs, just below the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

Moaning gently, but not one to be outdone, you mirrored his movements, moving your hands down his built chest, feeling the soft material, and groaning in annoyance as you reached the stupid stuffed toy stitched to the centre. You reached the bottom of his sweater, but before you reached under it you pulled away, Seokjin chasing your lips.

“Will this dumb sweater shock me if I put my hands under it?” You huffed and played with the hem of his sweater as he smiled goofily, as if realizing he was wearing it for the first time. The goofy smile didn’t last for long as he moved his hands to cup your chest, massaging gently as he leaned in kissing your sternum, visible from the top button that had somehow loosened during your makeout. 

“The only shock you’ll get is how loud you’ll be screaming my name when you cum.” He pulled on your nipples, making you mewl as you involuntarily arched your back, rolling your hips on his. You felt breathless, and you couldn’t believe his stupid wordplay was making you this wet.

“Big talk for someone whining about Christmas puns.” You moaned out as he tugged harder on your nipples in reprimand, his hands pushing against the fabric, as he bit the sensitive skin of your neck. Forgetting your earlier concerns, your hands go under his shirt, feeling his soft skin, the tiny hair on his abs tickling your fingertip, as you push the sweater as high it would go revealing his golden skin.

“Yule be sorry for doubting me.” He finally gives your sore nipples a rest, as his hands move to pull his sweater off, momentarily getting tangled up in, making you chuckle, which he mistakes for praise aimed at his puns, wiggling his eyebrows as he emerges from the monstrosity. If you weren’t so whipped for him, you would have made him leave. You didn’t know if this was a one off, if he really wanted things to progress or he just wanted sex but all thoughts fell out of your head as his lips reattached to your neck, his hands on your hips making you grind against him as the two of you made out like teenagers at prom.

“I will literally murder you if you make another pun.” You moaned out, losing yourself in his touch, his lips leaving behind blooms on your skin. If he kept moving your hips like this you were going to cum. You grabbed on to his hair as you moaned at the sensation your body lit as your clit grazed his length through the layers of clothing. Your legs shook as the feeling in your stomach tightened and Seokjin chuckled against your neck.

“Yeah murder me with that pussy.” You could feel his grin but all your annoyance was forgotten as you felt yourself let go, mewling his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your grip on his hair tightening. 

He kissed you as you came down from your high, his erection solid against you as his tongue explored your mouth. When he pulled away he looked almost crazed, the lust in his half lidded gaze mirroring yours as his hands moved to your top, slowly unbuttoning it. “Fuck that was so hot. Let me unwrap you, baby.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows again as he looked at you. How could this man be this sexy and this dorky was beyond you. Wanting to see him writhe over you, you started kissing his neck, moving to his chest, leaning him back as you inched closer to the waistband of his jeans.

“You first!” You exclaimed, wasting no time to unbutton his jeans as he sighed in relief, moving to remove them completely before you reached for his boxers. You were a little taken aback when his cock popped out. It was bigger than you thought, head red as a bead of precum glistened in the late morning sun pouring in from your windows. Your mouth watered at the sight and without thinking you licked up his length, his groans egging you on as you bent over him.

“Shit so perfect! So good to me,” he moaned out as you looked at him. His head lolled back as he leaned against his hands behind him, his wide chest rising heavily due to your ministrations. He let out a loud moan, resembling almost a whine, as you wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking softly. You loved that moan, wanted more of it as you took him deeper, his hand coming to rest on your hair. He panted loudly, his moans filling your room, your mind, as you gazed at him looking at you with awe. “This look soots you.”

He really had to make another dumbass joke, didn’t he? You pulled off his length, sitting back as your hand replaced your mouth, slowly stroking him as you scowled at him. God, you wanted him to beg you so bad.

“That better be suit with a u-i or I swear I’m not gonna let you cum.” You gripped him harder, twisting your wrist as your panties get wetter with power. He mewled a little, twitching in your hand as you grinned. His head lolled to the side and suddenly he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with challenge as your words finally processed in his mind. 

Before you could react, he was on you. One hand gripping your wrist and other behind your head as he leaned you over till your back was on the cold hardwood floor and he hovered over you. He smirked at you before he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, making you lose all senses.

“Aw sweetheart, it’s cute you think you’re in charge.” He cooed, as his forearms trapped your head, his kisses becoming softer, reminiscent of the first time he kissed you a week ago. He took his time, his weight a comforting presence on top of you as you melted into the floor. He looked at you with adoration when you broke apart, his nose touching yours and a soft smile on his face.  

“But seriously, Y/N. I didn’t come here for this. I want this so bad but I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand, drink a milkshake with two straws together. I don’t know! I wanna spoil you!” His voice was low, but his words were fast, like he just couldn’t hold them in any longer. You giggled in disbelief, caressing his back. This man really was going to be the death of you.

“Seokjin you’re naked and you want to hold my hand?” you chuckled as he nodded, his eyes glinting and smiling wide. He reached out to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly, an oddly saccharine contrast to the way he was devouring you moments ago.

“I mean I also want to rail you hard, but yeah I don’t want it to be just sex.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, your face heating up more than it already was and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Me neither.” Your grip on his hand tightened and his cock twitched against your thigh, bringing your lust back to the forefront of your mind as you kissed him again, much more hungrier this time. “So come on get on with it. Choo choo!”

He leaned away looking at you with wide eyed surprise before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“Was that a rail- fuck! You’re perfect!” He gushed as he kissed his way down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went. He lapped at your nipples, hardening them under his tongue as his hand pulled your pajama shorts off, your panties following quickly after. You wanted to throw another quick witted remark at him, but all thoughts disappeared at his sudden enthusiasm as his mouth made its way to your core. He began to kiss down your slit, light feathery kisses that had you desperate for more, mewling as he continued.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, it’s really taken a mistletoe-ll on me.” He grinned, his breath warm against your folds. Your retort was forgotten when he slid his tongue inside you, flicking against your sensitive walls before he was sucking at your clit. The pleasure was unbearable and you shook under him, thanking yourself for forgoing carpeting the floors. He put his arm over your hips to hold you down as you chanted his name. You were dripping, your heart beating loudly in your chest as he ate you like a man starved, pushing you closer and closer to your high. You walls clenched around his tongue as you moaned louder, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer. 

“I’m so close!” you whined expecting Seokjin to speed up to guide you through your high. He, however, slowed down, the pressure in your belly ebbing slowly away as you whined his name. “Why did you stop?!”

“Tell me my puns are funny.” He looked up at you grinning as you yelped when two fingers entered you. His fingers curled inside you making your back arch as you moaned his name. “Come on admit it, Dr. Y/L/N”

“No… they’re… stupid...” you breathed out as his pace increased and decreased keeping you firmly on the edge, your walls fluttering, your eyes squeezed shut as you refused to beg. He kept up his taunting till you thought you would lose your mind, every nerve in your body on fire as your legs quivered. He was insane! Not being able to take it anymore, you conceded. “Fuck… please! Please Seokjin! Your puns are hilarious. I give! Please…” 

“Good girl. Knew you were on the nice list.” he exclaimed as his mouth latched on to your clit and before you knew it you were screaming, your body shaking as you had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, your arousal gushing out of you as Seokjin gleefully lapped it up. You felt a buzzing in your ears, your vision spotty as he coaxed you slowly through your high.

Seokjin kissed his way up your trembling body, and slotting his mouth against yours, he caressed your sides as you tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes he was smiling at you, lying next to you on the floor.

“Told you not to doubt me, baby,” he said lowly as his nose bumped yours gently.

“No pun this time?”

“I was gonna say mistletoe-ld but I already used that one.” He grinned.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, facepalming. “Why do I still want to fuck you?”

“Because I’m a sex god.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You stood up, a little shakily, at his comment, looking down at his alarmed face before walking away to your bedroom. Before you reached the door, you looked back at him. Seokjin was still in the same position, looking at you dumbfounded, probably wondering what he did wrong. You rolled your eyes at him as you gestured towards your room.

“Come on Santa, don’t you wanna climb up my chimney?” You laughed at the speed he stood up, his hard erection bouncing funnily as he ran towards you with a dopey smile, placing his arms around you in a back hug as you walked into your room.

“Stop being funny or I’ll fall in love with you,” he whined, rutting against you petulantly, making you giggle. You guided him to your bed, making him sit with his back to the headboard as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table, stroking him to gently roll it over his length. His breath hitched as you climbed over him, your knees on the bed next to his thighs. Seemingly unable to wait anymore, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hungry kiss, a flurry of tongue and teeth.

You rise, your hands on his shoulders as you slowly descend on his, his girth a soothing pain as your walls stretch around him. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths as you stare at each other, face red and eyes blown from lust. For the first time, there was silence between the two of you, your staredown intense as you slowly started riding him. It felt delicious and it took all of your strength not to close your eyes in pleasure.

Your pace increased as Seokjin’s hands were placed firmly on your hips, pulling your hips higher so he could thrust into you. You kissed him at that, no longer able to take his intense stare and he groaned, increasing his speed. His cock rammed into you and you saw stars, clinging on his shoulders as waves of pleasure flowed through you. He kisses and bites your neck, his lips leaving blooms of petals in their trail, as his movements become sloppy. 

He leans back a little, grabbing your hand to guide it to your clit, rubbing your fingers on it. The added friction to your bud paired with his wild thrusts has you coming undone in seconds. Your toes curl as his name stretches around your moan and you still in his arms, your vision hazy. He cums shortly after, thrusting in you a few times chanting your name before falling lax against the headboard, pulling you against him.

The two of you sat there for a while, till he softened enough to slip out of you, the feeling sending shudders through the two of you. Placing a hand on your chin, he brought your lips to his, before looking at you with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.

“So… Merry Christmas?” He shrugged making you giggle, as you rolled off him and sat next to him.

“Who knew I’d be a ho ho ho for Santa?” Seokjin laughed, clapping as he squealed with glee, before calming down enough to put his arms around you, cuddling you close, and grabbing one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers as he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. I promise I’ll never do that again.” He kissed your temple, tightening his arms around you.

“It’s okay. You made up for it.”

The two of you spend Christmas morning together. You made more pancakes, dressed in only his horrendous sweater as he belted out Mariah Carey in his underwear. Your heart swelled when he placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as the two of you swayed to the music, barefoot on the kitchen floor. You knew you made the right decision when you moved to Alaska, it just took you this moment to realize how right.

----

I hope you liked this fluffy Christmasy piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Soon // S.B.

Request: Ahhhh!!!!! Congratulations on such an AMAZING milestone🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉!!!!!! You deserve all this and sososo much more girly. I’m glad ur being recognized for ur amazing talents 😩💓 Now for the celebration. Could I suggest: Sirius, Hogwarts, Soulmate au, fluff #13, and Misc #5 - @leahstypewriter

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

Misc 5: “Are you quoting a film at me?”

A/N: Thank you so much, lovely! Here’s your request! I hope you like! I love writing soulmate AUs and I had to go searching for one that I hadn’t done before so here we are! As always, I hope you like!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I continue to wax lyrical about the history of soulmates, hopeless romantic (reader and writer lol).

Word count: 2.3k

The magic of soulmates was first discovered centuries ago; too long ago for the story to be remembered correctly, but through the years, the general gist remains the same amongst families of witches and wizards.

From birth, a witch and wizard are paired with another witch or wizard. It would take time to find their match; it would take patience of the strongest sort, but they will meet their soulmate should good fortune befall them.

How do they know they have a soulmate?

Anything written on skin; be it a word, a quote, a doodle – it all appears on their soulmates skin. Anything other than their name. Centuries of debate and arguments over the exact reason for this decree fell over the world. In the end, the ministries and the scholars across the world threw their hands up in exasperation, declaring that the decree relating to the naming of soulmates would have to stay and the reasoning being that those making the decree were too awkward and stubborn to think of making life easier for an entire society that had to go into hiding.

For years, witches and wizards, once old enough, are able to communicate with their destined other half. The itch of a sentence being written becomes familiar; almost tolerable. Over time, they get to know their penmanship and their inner most secrets only dared scrawled onto their skin that could be hurriedly washed away if needed.

By the time the young witches and wizards in the United Kingdom have reached the age to start Hogwarts, their soulmate is already a part of them.

Now it was just trying to whittle down the student population of the school to discover who exactly was your appointed other half from birth.

---------

Most soulmate matches at Hogwarts are made in the months April to July – it’s when the weather starts to warm up; becoming bearable enough for the short sleeved blouses and shirts to be dug out from the very bottom of trunks.

Arms are on display for most of the day. It means that matches are made in the corridor, in the classrooms, in the Great Hall. Everywhere across the castle matches are made.

It’s wonderful, it is. But it also makes you more impatient.

You’re in the library when another match is made. Madame Pince tries her hardest to hush the new match into some level of quiet, but it does no good and thankfully, she evicts them from the library and the hush soon falls back over the great room with the same sense of a comforting blanket.

Rolling the sleeve of your cardigan up, you delicately write, “I’ve just seen the third match made of the day and it’s not even noon.”

It doesn’t take long for your soulmate to reply, “I’ve seen two so far. Where was your third?”

“The library.”

“I bet Pince was thrilled.”

You snort at their reply; amused at how well they know the school’s librarian.

“When is it going to be our turn?” You ask somewhat hesitantly.

The reply takes a few minutes, but it comes all the same in the elegant script you’ve come to know, “Soon.”

You rag your sleeve back down in frustration, repressing the building groan. You didn’t know your soulmate’s name, but you had given him the nickname of ‘aloof’. He had gone to great personal care to not reveal too much about himself other than the fact that he was male, he went to Hogwarts and he was your age.

That was something at least, but your countless attempts to find out more had been rebuffed. When you asked why, he simply answered that he wanted to leave as much as he could a surprise. You understood that, but the curiosity got to you.

You sigh heavily returning to the homework laid in front of you, but your mind continues to play the realisation that had happened only moments ago. The happiness on their faces; their utter elation tied in with the adoration they already felt for the other.

It was hard, you realise, to be in love with someone you’ve only spoken to through words and doodles on your arm.

-----

The week doesn’t get any easier; the weather only turns warmer, so the outer robes are ditched completely. You leave the Great Hall the morning Lily Evans realised she had been talking to James Potter since she was a child. You couldn’t watch it and still feel the same empty feeling that had settled within you so long ago.

Your friend June and her boyfriend follow you from the Great Hall. They find you facing one of the many tapestries that depict the meeting of soulmates; they’re found all over the castle and each one feels like a dagger to the stomach.

“It’ll happen soon,” June comforts, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Soon! Soon! That’s all he says,” You explode. Then you repeat in a quieter voice, “That’s all he says. He’s here and he’s close and all he says is soon. What if he doesn’t want to meet me, June?”

June tuts, “Then he’s a damn fool. However, he does want to meet you. He replies doesn’t he?”

You nod your head, but her words do nothing to comfort the growing sense of dread within you.

It was rare, but the soulmate bond could be rejected. There were those in the wizarding world who were born without a soulmate, but there were also those who simply didn’t want one, so they never replied to their partner’s pleading. Instead, they chose to ignore every word, every plea, every beg. For the bond to be accepted, the first reply is important. If words are never painted on your skin, the bond is rejected.

For not the first time that day, you sigh, “I know we have forever to know each other, but is it so wrong of me to want that to start now?”

June squeezes your shoulder, “It’s not wrong at all.”

You continue to stare at the tapestry a little while longer after June and her boyfriend depart; the depiction of soulmates shown in the quill being held by both parties.

Running a hand through your hair, you turn your back on the portrayal of true love, your mind focused on how long it would be until you experience something of the same magnitude.

-----

The day after James and Lily have their realisations, you find Sirius Black’s eyes on you at breakfast. When you meet eyes, he smiles at you, raising his hand in wave. You smile back politely, waving back awkwardly before shaking your head and returning to your breakfast and the latest letter from your brother and his new wife.

They had settled well into their new house; they loved their wedding present, thank you; and yes, you were to have a niece or nephew by the end of the year.

Wonderful.

Shoving the letter from your brother into your bag with more force than what is needed, you feel someone standing next to you. Looking up you meet the grey eyes of Sirius Black; he smiles down at you, “Are you okay?”

You fix him with a puzzled look, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs, “You were frowning so big I noticed it from down the table. I thought I would come see if you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me though.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t offer to fill the void, so the silence sits between you as heavy as a rock.

You stand from the bench; throwing your bag onto your shoulder, “Thanks again, Sirius. I’ll see you later.”

Sirius shifts out of your way, clearing the path for you, “My pleasure. I’ll see you later.”

You shake your head as you walk away; the encounter being an odd one given that your social circle didn’t tend to include any of the Marauders. But there was something about his final words; something about the way he uttered them that made them sound as if they were a promise to you.

You rush the thought from your mind; refusing to let yourself being occupied by someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

---

Sirius begins to take more notice in you; he starts to strike up small conversations whenever he can as well as numerous attempts to catch your eye at any meal time.

He starts to take up a lot of your time; sitting with you in the library on the rare occasion, but also joining you in class when the other Marauders are occupied with other pursuits.

It’s odd.

Muggle Studies remains one of the few lessons that hasn’t been interrupted with the growing number of soulmate matches in your year. Arguably, this school year could be the one with the most matches – the final year of Hogwarts; that final rush to find the love of your life before being sent out into the whole wizarding world without that safety net of the school to fall back onto.

The longer the professor drones on, the harder you find it to focus your concentration. The professor paces the front of the classroom, explaining their brief overview of what they hope the next few lessons will shape up to be like, but your attention is shot. It flickers between the marauder who has, for some reason, taken an interest in you and your soulmate, who still won’t reveal any more information about themselves or when you’ll be meeting.

A headache is close to blooming behind your eyes at the stress of it all.

Shrugging off your cardigan, you dip your quill into the pot of black ink sat in its holder. With the practiced precision of someone used to drawing on themselves, you begin to doodle.

Stars, planets, and moons appear on your left arm – decorating the inner forearm with an entire galaxy. They’re pretty rudimentary drawings, but it’s enough to keep you occupied from the droll being spewed by the professor who definitely hasn’t noticed they’ve lost the attention of most of the class.

The bell rings; finally signally the start of your only free period of the day. With a grateful sigh, you drop your books into your bag and make your way to the library.

You never make it to the library. On your way there, a hand grabs the back of your robes, pulling you into an empty corridor. With an angry shout, you face your kidnapper, “Sirius!”

He lets out an amused laugh at your affronted expression, “I’m sorry, I just needed to talk to you in private.”

You exhale, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder, “Sirius, I have to know. Why are you paying me so much attention? Surely you have a soulmate to think of.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Really?”

Sirius nods. He takes a deep breath before saying, “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

“Are you quoting a film at me?” You ask; an eyebrow raised.

Sirius shakes his head, repressing a laugh. He rolls up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing his left arm to you where decorating his inner forearm are the very same stars, planets and moons that you had doodled instead of focusing on the classwork.

Instead of saying anything, you roll your own sleeve up, lining your arm up beside Sirius’ where the patterns match perfectly.

It seemed that his attempts at conversation and his watching you from a distance was for a purpose.

Sirius Black is your soulmate.

“Oh…” You whisper.

“I told you we would meet soon,” Sirius whispers; a sight teasing lilt to his voice.

You shake your head, “I kept thinking you didn’t want to meet me; that you didn’t want a soulmate.”

Sirius grips both of your hands, “The complete opposite. I just needed to work up the nerve to find you.”

“When did you know?”

“Not that long ago. When James and Lily got together.”

You nod your head; remembering the day well.

“I overheard you talking to your friend when I was on my way to a lesson and you kept talking about how your soulmate kept promising you soon. And I realised that that was all I was saying to mine. Soon.”

You look down at your joined hands, “I never even had an inkling it was you.”

Sirius chuckles, “I suppose that should be flattering. I must be that good at concealing information, I should be a spy.”

You roll your eyes, “It almost drove me mad is what you mean.”

“Well we have a long time to get to know each other now,” He murmurs; voice soft and filled with promise for the future.

You smile shyly at the long-haired teenager, “We do?”

He nods, “Yeah, we do.”

Tentatively, you take a step closer to the long-haired Marauder. A small smile graces Sirius’ face as he takes in your movement. With a tug of his hands, you fall into him – an arm clasping itself around your waist, pressing you to him.

Sirius’ hand caresses your cheek; you lean into the touch, wondering if this is how every match felt when they found their soulmate or whether this was entirely Sirius’ effect on you. Either way, it was addicting… and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

Finally though, after what feels like a lifetime of staring into each other’s eyes, Sirius dips his head to kiss you. You meet him halfway; the desire you feel for him controlling your every move. His grip on your waist tightens and your arms wind their way around his neck, holding him to you. This kiss is what breaks the dam; from the lightest pressure of his lips, long buried emotions bubble up to the surface and it’s all you can do to keep yourself in control.

Sirius breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t retreat far. He beams down at you; eyes bright with elation. It’s a smile that you return and more; happy to have found your soulmate, happy to know who he is and that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Happy to know that soon is now.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @nerdyatheletic

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual​

[theweekinarrowfic]

Completed Arrow Multichapters on AO3, September 19-25, 2021

NOTE: I’m now crossposting to https://theweekinarrowfic.dreamwidth.org. Also, I'm looking for volunteers to test out my fic recommender! Need more Arrow in your life? Why not try one of the multchapter fanfics recently completed by our talented fic writers?

Olicity

Nothing this week

Other Arrow Ships

Die Entscheidung (und ihre Konsequenzen) by Afaim (Kamilla Hwang/Cisco Ramon, Ray listed as character, 3/3, 2021-09-25) - Cicada wurde endlich aufgehalten. Nun ist es für Cisco an der Zeit sich der Frage zu stellen, was er eigentlich möchte.

Paradox by Afaim (Barry Allen/Iris West, Felicity and Rey listed as characters, 9/9, 2021-09-25) - 2020 war ein hartes Jahr für Barry Allen. Er will nur Kleinigkeiten ändern, aber dann gerät alles außer Kontrolle dank Paradox, dem Mann, von dem er dachte, dass er ihm helfen will,der das aber in Wahrheit gar nicht vorzuhaben scheint.

Legends of Tomorrow: Dark Verse by Afaim (Nora Darhk/Ray, 5/5, 2021-09-24) - Niemand ist gerne der ewige Fußabtreter. Rays Auseinandersetzung mit Neron läuft ein wenig anders ab, genauso wie die Folgen davon. Dunkle Variante von Staffel 4.

Alternate Events 3: Doppelganger Troubles and Other Threats by cer1992 (Clark Kent/Lois Lane, several Arrow characters listed, 17/17, 2021-09-25) - Not long after learning of the recent resurrection of two heroines and the news of an impending Crisis, the heroes are once again thrown into action when trouble strikes in the form of evil doppelgangers and other enemies from alternate Earths. Takes place three weeks after the events of ""Alternate Events 2: One Year Later"".

Polyam Adventures in the Arrowverse by Afaim (multifandom, Laurel/Oliver/Tommy among ships listed, 3/3, 2021-09-23) - Eddie und Tommy überleben, und dadurch ist alles anders, aber das ist auch gut so.

Infinite Earths One-Shots: Speedster Pheromone-Verse by Afaim (multifandom, Laurel/Oliver among ships listed, 3/3, 2021-09-23) - A Crisis is coming! Und niemand ist dafür bereit. In einem Moment ist noch alles so wie es sein soll, im nächsten finden sich Nora und ihre Freunde nicht mehr dort wieder, wo sie eigentlich sein sollten.

Infinite Earths One-Shots: Dark Verse by Afaim (Multifandom, Laurel/Tommy among ships listed, 4/4, 2021-09-24) - Statt dem Zeitalter der Helden herrscht nun ein Zeitalter ohne Helden. Eine Krise nähert sich, doch wie soll das Multiversum ohne die Unterstützung von Erde-1 überleben?

Make A Difference by okoriwadsworth (Laurel/Oliver, 18/18, 2021-09-18) - After two years of fighting on the city's behalf, the Green Arrow and Black Canary have come to the realization that they can't do this alone. The question is: Can anyone pick up where they left off? It's time for others in the city to start making a difference.

Injustice by Afaim (Clark Kent/Lois Lane, several Arrow characters listed, 18/18, 2021-09-18) - Arrowverse Adaption von ""Injustice"". Barry landet ungewollt in der Zukunft und findet sich in einer Welt wieder, die so niemals sein darf.

Cruor Tempus by Shaish (Slade/Oliver, 28/28, 2021-09-23) - It starts like all tumultuous events in Oliver’s life do: sudden and with the bottom dropping out of his stomach. He’s swept up in a flash of blinding light, familiar gold lightning sparking by amongst the white out, and then he’s standing on sand under the scorching sun and breathing in heat. It’s a jarring change from the cell he was just in, surrounded by hard walls and torches, cement beneath his boots.; Oliver lifts a forearm to block out the sun, chain dangling between his wrists. He does a slow turn in place, but there’s nothing but sand in any direction, no Nanda Parbat, no League of Assassins.; He lowers his arm.; “Damn it, Barry,” Oliver mutters, and starts walking, “What did you do now?”; _____; In a thousand years, this place will be ruins, dirt, and sand.

[rocorambles]

Fall is for Falling for You

Pairing: Kyoutani x Reader

Genre: SFW, Fluff 

Prompt: Fall/Autumn

Summary: Kyoutani hates a lot of things, but he doesn’t hate you.

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday, September 29th 11:00pm U.K. time!)  

Kyoutani hates the fall. He hates how everyone loses their minds as soon as there’s even a slight chill in the air. He hates the sweet cloying sense of pumpkin everywhere he walks. Pumpkin this. Pumpkin that. He’s never hated a food so much in his life and he glares at the mocking orange carved faces that taunt him as he walks side by side with you through your neighborhood. But when you reach for his hand and interlace your fingers as you excitedly point out your favorite Halloween decorations and carved pumpkins, he thinks that maybe fall isn’t that bad, even if you are dragging him to Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte. 

He hates waiting in lines. He hates paying for overpriced drinks. But he can’t help the small twitch of his lips as you debate what size you want and if you want whipped cream or not, and he just slightly rolls his eyes in amusement when you, of course, get the largest size with a large dollop of whipped cream on top. You reach into your purse for your credit card, but you yelp when you’re nudged to the side and Kyoutani quickly pays for your drink before ushering you back outside, and despite all his grumbling as the two of you walk back home, you giggle at the embarrassed look on his face when you cheerily thank him for the drink with an affectionate peck on the lips. 

Kyoutani hates fall, pumpkins, and overpriced coffee, but he doesn’t hate the lingering taste of pumpkin spice on his lips and he waits for you to take a few more sips before leaning down to kiss you once more as the fall breeze rushes past both of you. 

Now apples, on the other hand, are something Kyoutani can appreciate and even though he hates not being able to fully rest on one of the few days he has off from practice, he hates not being able to spend his free time with you even more and he groggily rubs his eyes and stretches himself awake as you bustle about the house, getting ready to go apple picking. He’s still finding the will to get up from bed when you prance into the room and he grunts as you cheekily jump on his prone figure in a mock body slam, lightly batting at you when you non-stop pepper his face with good morning kisses, but he wraps his arms around you as you finally mercifully stop your playful antics and affectionately nuzzle your nose against his before urging him to start getting ready. 

FInally dressed and washed up, he allows himself to follow the tantalizing smell of hot, freshly brewed coffee and french toast and he just stands in the doorway of the kitchen for a few quiet minutes, watching your apron flutter as you move about the stove, watching you carefully maneuver your spatula and not for the first time, he wonders how he got so lucky to have you in his life. He quietly pads near you, smirking at the way you jump, startled by his warm arms wrapping around you from behind as he hooks his chin on your shoulder and watches you cook and you pout at him, chastising him for scaring you, but the upturn of the corner of your lips tell him that you don’t really mind at all. The two of you stand there for a bit, a quiet domestic peace falling over both of you amongst the sizzle of the pan, but as you begin to plate the food, Kyoutani untangles himself from you and sets the table, pouring generous mugs of coffee for both of you and setting down knives, forks, and maple syrup.   

Breakfast is a quiet affair, but that’s how it always is between the two of you with Kyoutani being a man of few words. But it’s a comforting quiet and you happily munch away as Kyoutani guzzles down bitter brown liquid, sneaking glances at you and hiding his snort and smile behind his cup as your eyes twinkle and you make tiny little pleased sounds with every delicious bite. Plates cleared, you move to load the dishwasher when a calloused hand gently dabs at your mouth with a napkin and your face goes slightly hot when Kyoutani teases you for being a messy eater, but he just ruffles your hair with a laugh before moving to put on his shoes and you hurry to follow him, excited to spend some quality time together. 

Kyoutani hates not being able to just rest and laze around on non-practice days, but he doesn’t hate how adorable you are as you reach on your tippy toes under apple trees, barely able to grasp the apples you want, sending him pleading puppy eyes that he’s absolutely powerless against. He doesn’t hate how your whole face lights up as you happily thank him as he helps you pick the higher up apples you want, placing them in your basket. He doesn’t hate how endearing the sight of you struggling to carry and lift your quickly filling basket is, but he quickly steps in after a few chuckles at your expense and trails after you, basket now in his hand as you continue apple picking unencumbered. And as the two of you travel back home, overflowing bags of apples in hand, he doesn’t hate how you ramble on and on, musing over what to make with your new fruity haul and he lets his mind drift a bit, relaxing to the sound of your familiar voice pattering on in his ear in a melody he’s come to love. 

One thing Kyoutani does love about fall are haunted houses and despite the fact that you are not nearly as avid of a fan as he is, you indulge him, laughing at the way you can almost see his imaginary dog ears perk up and his imaginary tail wagging wildly behind him when you tell him that the town’s haunted house finally opened up this year. You assume that Kyoutani just loves scary things and horror in general and while that’s not entirely inaccurate, what Kyoutani loves more is the way your hands clutch at his sleeve as the two of you walk through haunted halls, the way you fling yourself at him and nuzzle into his body as much as you can in an attempt to hide from the surprises around every corner, the way you cling onto him for hours after you finally exit the haunted house. And it’s not that he likes the fact that you’re scared because he would fight anything or anyone who genuinely frightened you in an unsafe environment, but he loves that he’s your go-to when you feel the need to be protected and he loves how much you trust him to be there for you whenever you need him and to keep you safe and his chest swells with pride as he protectively holds you and stands guard. 

But he does feel a little bad when you’re still tightly holding onto him when the two of you go to bed that night, hiding your face in his chest, tucking your head under his chin in an attempt to hide from the darkness of the room when he turns off the lights and he makes it up to you by letting you drag him to go flannel shopping with you. Kyoutani hates shopping and your annual fall flannel shopping trips seem pointless to him. Don’t the two of you already have enough flannels hanging in your closet? But at least now there’s a bounce in your step and you’re all smiles again, no more lingering fear of monsters in the closet or under your bed from the haunted house playing at the edges of your mind, so Kyoutani walks behind you, his hands shoved into his pant pockets as you peruse racks and racks of flannels at your favorite local thrift store. And honestly, all the patterns look the same to him, but he watches in amusement and bafflement as you scrunch your face in concentration and show him what looks like two identical shirts for his opinion, only to jokingly roll your eyes at him when he seriously tells you they look exactly the same to him. 

He lets himself be shoved into a fitting room, a pile of flannels thrown into his arms and with a sigh, he obediently comes out after buttoning on each one, letting you twirl him around and circle around him as you scan him over, making mental notes of what meets your standards and what doesn’t, but he sighs in relief as he exhaustedly slumps down in the chair as you switch roles and he patiently waits for you to showcase your own flannels you’d chosen to try on. He tries his best. He really does. But he can’t help the fact that he genuinely thinks you look good in everything and anything and he just helplessly shrugs his shoulder when you ask him to give more constructive criticism.

“It’s not my fault you always look good.” 

And yes, Kyoutani hates shopping, but he loves the way you get so easily flustered from his honest words and the two of you wrap up your shopping spree, walking back home with new flannels to add to your already impressively large flannel collection.

Now there is one fall activity that the both of you love and there’s excitement in the air as the two of you rise at the crack of dawn, throwing on the new flannels you’d bought. Kyoutani doesn’t love the fact that you purposefully set it up so that you’re wearing matching flannels, already knowing that he’s in for a earful of teasing from his team when they see the social media photos he knows you’ll take, but he supposes he can sacrifice some of his self-respect if it makes you happy. And happy is an understatement for how both of you feel as you pack trail mix, sandwiches, and bottles of water and slip on your hiking boots before trekking out the door.

It isn’t an easy hike and the two of you are a sweaty panting mess as your legs climb and climb up the steep trail coursing over the mountains. Breaks are taken. Snacks are eaten. Water is guzzled. And you’re thankful that at least the two of you had left early in the morning, still comforted by the cooling breeze of the early morning, but as you near the top, the sun rises and bears down on you and you both thank whoever’s listening when you finally round the corner and reach the peak, collapsing in a heap of sprawled limbs. But as breathing evens out and heartbeats slow down, you stand up and circle in awe as you fully take in the surroundings you had worked so hard to see and it does not disappoint. Rich reds, golden yellows, vibrant greens, and amber-like orange swarm your vision and despite the fact that Kyoutani and you make this trek to see the foliage every year, it takes your breath away every single time. 

You’re brought back to reality when a warm presence stands by your side and you slip your hand in a larger palm as fingers interlace, your heart warming as you see the softness and wonder in Kyoutani’s eyes as he soaks in the colorful views. And the two of you stand there, watching as the sunlight shines and accentuates the multitude of hues, letting the autumn breeze cool you down, quietly thanking life for allowing you to have magical moments like this with the person you love most in the world. 

It’s you who breaks the silence first. 

“Isn’t it beautiful, Kentarou?” 

And maybe if you weren’t so transfixed on the scenery around you, you would have noticed Kyoutani subtly turning to look at you, taking a mental photo of your profile against the stunning backdrop, wondering how even one of nature’s most impressive scenes pales in comparison to you. Maybe you would have noticed how his eyes never leave you when he responds with a small noise of affirmation. 

And as Kyoutani turns back to soak in the natural sights, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t hate fall that much after all.