#yeah I know!!!! thank you so much for noticing!!!!!

[gothicfied]

can you write a squid game fic or head cannons of other characters finding out the reader is struggling with self harm? If so, thank you and I understand it is a sensitive topics and may be uncomfortable to write.

Squid Game season 2 characters x reader who struggles with sh

Featuring: Thanos / Player 230, Se-mi / Player 380, Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Park Min-su / Player 125, Kim Jun-hee / Player 222

(Trigger) Warnings: Mention/Talk about sh, depression, and things of this nature, this is comfort/angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Summary: Basically what the ask says

A/N: hey! I hope this is what you imagined, sorry if some of these are ooc😞🙏

Thanos / Player 230

જ⁀➴ Before he really knew, he'd constantly make your life a living hell, basically making fun of your shyness. He'd make certain comments to which he knew you wouldn't react to or would try to persuade you to vote in favor of the game containing.

જ⁀➴ You'd constantly tell him off and to leave you alone. It didn't really help, though. Thanos would just sit down next to you and talk your ear off about what he wanted to do with that prize money.

જ⁀➴ When you stood up to leave, rollung your eyes at him, he grabbed you by your wrist.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thanos blurted out, giving you an offended glare. "You know, it's really rude to just leave a conversation like that." When you tried to get out of his grip, your sleeves rode up your arm, revealing scars you weren't proud of or wanted him to see. When you realized it, he did too, immediately letting go of you.

જ⁀➴ Since Thanos knew what it meant to struggle with mental health he did actually leave you alone for now. But, after the next game, he approached you again and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry about yesterday." he said, patting you on the back.

જ⁀➴ He related to you in a way, but didn't want to ask you about what went on in your private life. Now you just appreciated that he seemingly didn't overstep any boundaries anymore and even checked up from you every now and then.

Se-mi / Player 380

જ⁀➴ You and her had been a duo ever since she came up to you and complimented your looks. Even if you denied it or not, she'd repeat it multiple times, winning you over with her charm quickly.

જ⁀➴ You two had the same mindset on a lot of things, originally voting 'O', thinking you were able to survive one more lousy game. That game was a death scare. Nothing about it was funny anymore. You appreciated your life too much these days to die like this.

જ⁀➴ When the second favor didn't go your way, both Se-mi and you now voting 'X', you felt helpless. One night, the two of you were sitting on her bed, just talking about your past and how you got to this point in the first place. While Se-mi was more secluded, only telling you that 'there are so much worse things she had to face when she got out' you trusted her enough to tell her about a sensitive time in your life.

"I'm not really secretive about this anymore," you pushed your sleeves up, revealing faded scars along your forearm, "but yeah. It was all pretty fucked up. The whole debt thing didn't make it any better." Se-mi looked at you with raised eyebrows, her fingers tracing the lines on your wrists. "I knew you were strong. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."

જ⁀➴ She put in double the work to protect you — She just wanted you to start a better life with that money and be happy, free from debt and all of it.

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju noticed from the start that you were more secluded, more prone to cry, panicked easily. It was clear to her that you were struggling with this situation, perhaps even more than that. She made it her task to help you as much as she could, comfort you and keep you close to her and her group.

જ⁀➴ You'd often rant to her and tell her what bothered you after she reassured her she'd take care of anything possible. Hyun-ju was the anker you needed in this shithole and you just appreciated her very much. Everything she did seemed to be out of genuine interest and not just to gain your trust and abuse it.

જ⁀➴ Accidentally, Hyun-ju did catch a glimpse of the scars you were so desperate to hide. She didn't mention it, feeling like it wasn't her place to comment on it. Her heart did break for you, though.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she made sure to speak softer to you and distract you from all the horror around you.

Hyun-ju hugged you tightly against her chest, her arms engulfing your figure. "Tonight things could get a bit scary," she mumbled into your hair while she rested her face against your head, "I just want you to know now rather than find out later. I'll keep you safe, you know that." You just nodded, reciprocating the hug after a few moments.

Nam-gyu / Player 124

જ⁀➴ When he found out, as you didn't make the effort to hide them or anything, he did refrain from provoking you in any way. Nam-gyu related, as he considered his drug use not to be the best thing he could do to his body.

જ⁀➴ Both of you hung around in the same group, since Thanos really wanted you on his team, constantly giving you compliments and flirting with you. It annoyed him to a degree, scoffing everytime Thanos tried to talk to him about how pretty you were, how much he wanted you, give you the world. In Nam-gyu's opinion, he didn't get you.. didn't get what you went through, at all.

જ⁀➴ One evening before lights out, the two of you were teasing each other about something and laughed together — something that rarely occured amongst the other players.

"Want me to show you something?" Nam-gyu asked you, leaning a bit closer. Chuckling, you replied with a 'mhm' and watched him pull up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing skin tracks along the inside of his elbow. You raised an eyebrow: "Oh?" You took his arm to get a closer look, tracing his skin with your fingertips. "Well, we all have our stories, huh?" The man nodded at your wrists, making you look at them too, like you didn't already know what he meant.

જ⁀➴ The both of you grew close to each other, much to his amuse. He was a junkie, you were depressed.. it's like a disaster in the making. But, you didn't care. He was sweet and weirdly kind to you — Not in the way Thanos was. You made sure to hug Nam-gyu a few times more after that, in case it could be the last timd you'd get to do that.

Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

જ⁀➴ You were glad to be on Gi-hun's team from the start, since Dae-ho and you got along really well. As a former Marine, which he was super proud of obviously, he declared he'd protect you immediately after you met, making you laugh.

જ⁀➴ He was kind, strong and funny, but maybe a bit oblivious at times.

During the six-legged pentathlon, you two sat next to each other, cheering the current active team on. Yelling and screaming filled the area as they crossed the finish lind just in time, making everyone erupt in cheers. Dae-ho immediately hugged you with joy, excited to see the five live another day, at least. After pulling back witha laugh, you gave him a small high five with your sleeve rolled back. When noticing scars along your wrist and forearm, the former marine gasped pretty loudly. "What?" you asked with genuine concerning, fearing something was wrong with you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dae-ho pulled your sleeve back over your arm. "Dude," he looked at you with wide eyes "it's fine." You needed to hold back a laugh.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho felt so bad to havs accidentally seen something you've been struggling with, that he couldn't help but apologize profusely. You repeated to him that it wasn't a big deal for you and that you were working on this problem, but he didn't stop nonetheless.

જ⁀➴ You thought it was cute how much he seemed to care for you and how often he came up to you just to tell you that he appreciated you. And Dae-ho did, he didn't just say that to make you feel better.

Park Min-su / Player 125

જ⁀➴ Min-su is just shy over all. When he noticed it, he wouldn't say a thing. He'd be dead silent, maybe even a bit scared to talk to you. He was just scared he'd make it awkward, somehow hinting that he knew about your scars. Min-su was just someone who overthought a lot and even you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ After a bit, it annoyed you — The sudden lack of his presence next to you, the fact that he wouldn't properly talk to you anymore, it was all just weird and confusing. So, you decided to ask him directly.

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice wasn't stern, but Min-su could tell that you were kind of upset. "Ah, no-" he quickly replied back, shaking his head, "it's really not you!" He looked at you with his typical innocent face, making it hard for you to keep pressing him about this matter. "Then what is it, seriously?"

જ⁀➴ He explained what he saw and said that he just felt so sorry. Well, at least he didn't speak to you because he didn't want to hurt or upset you, which was really thoughtful.

જ⁀➴ You'd expect that he would now be the one to comfort you or something, but no it was the complete opposite. Min-su seemed to worried about you and kept asking you how you were feeling or if anything bothered you. You had to keep reassuring him that those times were in the past and that he didn't have to be so worried.

જ⁀➴ It was really cute though, so you let it slide.

Kim Jun-hee / Player 222 (implied fem!reader)

જ⁀➴ Since Jun-hee and you were pretty close in age, you two had found each other right away. You kept telling her that she needed more protection, or at least an ally like you, on her side sincs she was pregnant. You weren't really serious about that, just chuckling when bringing it up, but ut definitely made Jun-hee trust you a lot more. It was a critical situation she was in and she was glad to have you by her side.

જ⁀➴ You even banged on the door in the middle of the night to make the guards take her to the bathroom when she was to shy to do it herself.

As ths pink guard brought you to the womens bathroom, Jun-hee held onto you, clearly being in pain. A few minutes later, you were washing your hands and tried to fix yourself up, looking a bit disgusted in the mirror. "What is it?" Jun-hee emerged from one of the stalls, chuckling. "Man, I look like a damn zombie. Look what this place has done to us." Instead of getting a reply, you noticed that she was staring at your arms, at your scars. You had taken your jacket off for convenience and kind of forgot about them. "Oh, I'm sor-" Jun-hee interrupted you, "No! No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stared like that!"

જ⁀➴ Obviously everyone had their struggles, but now her own kind of seemed insignificant next to yours. You were doing so much for her and she didn't even know that you were struggling. She should've thought of that.

જ⁀➴ When voicing that thought to you, you felt bad that you made her feel like that. With a hug, it was all sorted out. Jun-hee cared deeply for you and she could tell that you cared for her like that, too. It was nice to know that someone had your back in a place like this.

[meelkiewee]

Washed up and ready for tumblr

sadly, i'm in a bit of an artblock/burnout so i'm kinda procrastinating on some projects by doing other stuff like this eefo character design... sigh

[pls reblog, don't like]

⬇️ my choices explained under the cut

INTRO

i'll start by saying that this character design was brought to life with my kinda limited knowledge of etho and my absolute passion for heavily redesigning characters and giving them my own twist.

THE MASK AND THE MASK's MASK

the first image that came to my mind was his mask. i knew i wanted something to cover almost all his face and for it to be wolf inspired. i still wanted it to reference his skin in some way though, so i added the little metallic plate and the black forehead ribbon as the way the mask holds up.

underneath his main mask i put another simpler black mask that mainly serves 3 purposes: it makes the wolf mask more comfortable to wear without too much metal to skin contact, it mantains the face covered in case the other falls off and... guys i remember i saw a clip of hermits asking him to take off the overlay of his skin to see his face but there was a second mask underneath. i don't make the rules.

CONCEAL DON'T FEEL

after that i slowly worked up a little bit of context in my head while i was adding more details and making my choices. so what i did was making a collage of the infos i collected over time about him and his character and sprinkle a little bit of kakashiki (-cit tango) visual elements.

as we all know etho is a brilliant redstoner and a guy who really cares about privacy. put that together and you get the lore i made up for him:

with his advanced irl tech knowledge, he found a way to transfer his soul in minecraft, kinda like SAO works, and has to conceal his appearance to not get caught. here comes the layered clothes, the enormous coat and ofc the masks. due to all of this i also headcanon him preferring to live in the colder biomes, and this ties back also to the fact that he's from canada ykyk.

AWOO BUT NOT TOO MUCH

i really like wolfie etho designs i saw going around but i didn't want to design another ren with a different palette (my ren is a anthro german shepherd) so i channeled the wolf energy in the mask, the thick fur of the coat that ends with a tail (inspired by marcille dungeon lord outfit, a few notice but her dress has a tail) and in his hair, also kinda looking like a tail.

TYPE: VIBES

the eye of the wolf mask being red and scarred (for life) is of course inspired by his kakashi skin. i sprinkled red tassels here and there to fill in the spots and mainly cause i personally love tassels and wanted to add some red accents for redstone.

his kinda slouchy posture is totally for vibes, etho comes across to me as this kinda lazy/chill guy that channels the energies he has into thinking about the redstone he gotta do and calls it a day. i tried to channel that also in the kinda generic plain clothes.

for the vibes i wanted to put him in crocs/flip flops too but i couldn't otherwise he would absolutely freeze. i had to give him some warm boots or whatevs *sigh*

i tried to make his single visible eye as cute and puppy-looking as possible 'cause c'mon he a cutie pie okay? for the mole near the eye, guys i literally can't recall where i got this piece of info and if it's even remotely true but, i read/heard somewhere he has a bunch of moles on his face irl??? idk idk this is so random, i'm sorry.

SO YEAH

this is the end of my long long explanation for this character design. i hope you like it and if you don't, i know my bestie likes it (he's a bit of an ethogirlie lol luv ya bestie <3)

the end, thanks a lot for reading!

[mrsmangi]

Hibiscus 🌺🌺🌺

late night call - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: hibiscus - the realization of a friendship becoming something more - meaning: in victorian times, the gift of a hibiscus bloom meant that the giver was acknowledging the receiver’s delicate beauty. ♡ w.c.: 1k ♡ a/n: hi, love! thank you so much for your request. srry for the delay, i'm a bit backed up with requests. she's a short one, but i hope you enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

“Do you ever think people realize just how loud their ceiling fans are?” 

His voice comes through the phone, low and scratchy, like he’s been lying on his back for too long, staring at his own ceiling. You giggle softly, shifting against the pillow propped against your back. Your own fan spins above you, a rhythmic hum filling the space between his words and yours. 

“It’s white noise,” you say, quieter than usual. “After a while, you get used to it and stop hearing it.” 

“Mm, not tonight,” Luigi sighs. “It’s like the fan’s trying to keep me awake for as long as possible.”

You laugh again, a soft, breathy sound that feels just a bit too loud in the stillness of your room. It’s past midnight–long past the time you’d planned to be asleep–but this is how many of your nights with Luigi go. What starts with casual texts morphs into a phone call, then into hours of talking about nonsense; everything and nothing.

“Maybe it’s just your thoughts,” you tease. “What are the voices yelling at you about tonight?” 

He pauses on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of his breathing audible. You know Luigi well enough by now to know he’s not actively ignoring your question; he’s only deciding how much of himself to give away. 

“Life,” he answers lamely, though the vagueness of the reply altogether makes it clear there’s more to it than that. “Do you ever feel like no matter how much you do to succeed, it’s never enough?” 

You roll onto your side, pressing the phone closer to your ear. The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts uneven shadows against the wall. 

“All the time,” you reply honestly. “It gets exhausting, though. I feel like I’m just running a race no one even cares to watch.” 

He exhales, a sound that crackles through the receiver. When he speaks again, his voice carries the kind of understanding that comes from being seen. “Yeah. I get it.” 

The two of you fall into shared silence, the steady hum of your ceiling fan whispering across the line. You let yourself picture him for a moment–probably sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. His phone would be balanced in his other hand. The image feels familiar, like something you’ve seen a thousand times before, even though you haven’t. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice breaks the quiet.

“Always.” 

He’s quiet again, but you don’t rush him.

“Do you think…” He pauses again, and you can hear the shift of his breathing. “Do you ever think it’s possible for something to change without either person realizing it? Like, to wake up one day and feel like everything’s changed, even though nothing is actually different?” 

“Maybe,” you say cautiously, voice softer now. “Sometimes things can change so slowly you don’t even notice until it’s already different. Then, you find yourself wondering how long it’s been that way.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s exactly what I mean.” 

You stare up at the spinning fan, asking him, “What’s different, Luigi?” 

He doesn’t answer right away. His continuous pauses make you grow somewhat uneasy, stretching a distance between you. “Us,” he says. “I think we’re different.” 

You exhale slowly. “Different how?” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But it’s like every time we talk, it feels different. More important, somehow, like there’s something there that wasn’t before.” He stops and you can nearly hear the way he’s turning the words over rin his head. “I used to just…enjoy talking to you, but now, it feels like I catch myself waiting for it. I’m counting down to the next time I’ll hear your voice. And when we’re not talking, I’m thinking about what I want to tell you the next time I see you, or wondering what you’re doing, or–” He breaks out into nervous laughter, cutting himself off. “Um, does any of that make sense or am I just rambling?” 

It makes perfect sense. Too much sense. Your heart picks up speed, the weight of his words pressing against the thoughts you’ve tried to push to the back of your mind. You notice it too. You’ve felt a change in the way you catch yourself thinking about him at odd moments–when a song reminds you of something he’s said, or when you replay the voice messages he sends just to hear his laugh on repeat. Tonight, he speaks heavier, like he’s cracked open a door you have both been staring at for weeks, maybe longer, unsure of who will turn the handle first. 

“It does,” you whisper. 

There’s a small, nearly imperceptible breath on his end, like he’s been holding it and didn’t even realize. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip, letting the word sink in. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.” 

“Me neither,” he says, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it. I do. All the time.” 

You close your eyes, the glow of the lamp behind your lids is a soft orange hue. “So, what now?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says. There’s no pretense, no cleverness to soften the edges of his words. “But maybe we can figure it out. Together.” He says his last word carefully, almost like it’s fragile–like it may break under the weight of its meaning if he doesn’t say it the right way. 

You hear him shift, the faint sound of fabric rustling through the receiver. It’s a small thing, but it makes the moment feel so real, tangible, like he’s not just a voice in the dark. You let his words settle over you. Luigi doesn’t have the answers to all your worries and neither do you. But, it feels comforting somehow–to know that he’s with you in this journey, and you with him. 

“Okay,” you say. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You know he can hear it, even if he can’t see it. Your heart is full of love for this boy as you exhale: “Together.”

[tsuutarr]

Escaping Mason au? 👀👉👈

(this ask kind of confused me so I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted lol but here's an AU where Mason decides to trap Reader for whatever reason!)

“Thanks so much for helping me pack,” you say, setting down a cup of tea in front of Mason. He smiles at you, sweet and soft like he always does.

“Of course, sugar. I’m always here t’help ya.” His large hand gently grabs the cup of tea as he sips it leisurely, his broad back leaning into the back of your chair. It’s one of the few pieces of furniture you have left to pack, the more heavy pieces being packed away thanks to Mason’s help.

Honestly, you’ll miss this place – being away from the hustle and bustle of the city has been nice. Plus, Mason has always been really kind to you, helping you whenever you needed him. Today is a great example of that – on top of helping you pack, he’s also baked some cookies for you to snack on.

“You know,” you say, taking a cookie and nibbling on it. “I’ll miss you, Mason.”

“You’re talkin’ like we aren’t gonna see each other again,” he says, laughing lightly. It makes your heart feel warm. “Y’know you can always keep in contact with me.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you respond, smiling, before you yawn.

“Y’should get some rest.” Mason places his tea cup down. “You worked hard today.”

You yawn again. “Mm, yeah, maybe I will,” you agree lightly, feeling your body sag from the weight of your tiredness. It’s unnatural how fast your body seems to droop, your limbs feeling foreign to you. But you don’t feel alarmed just yet – Mason’s there to make sure you’re safe, after all.

When you come to, you’re in an unfamiliar room, sort of. It’s… different, yes, but for some reason, it has most of your personal belongings inside. Blinking away your drowsiness, you look around, before alarm begins to settle into your bones. The heavy chain around your neck doubles your anxiety, the familiar sight of your belongings doing nothing to soothe you.

As the door clicks open, your head swivels in panic, before a wave of relief washed over you as Mason comes in. He’ll save you, surely!

It isn’t until you notice how relaxed he looks – how pleased – that panic begins to bubble inside you again.

“Hey, Sugar,” he hums, twirling a collar with a cowbell around his finger. “D’you like your new room?”

“Wh–what… what–”

“It’s tragic, really – you really hurt my heart, sweetheart.” The way his expression droops is quite convincing to that point that you almost feel bad. “You were just gonna leave like that? Leave me? That’s quite rude of you, don’t ya think, Sugar?”

You’re too stunned – too shocked to respond. 

He smiles, his previous illusion of sadness gone. “But it’s all okay now – y’can just stay here with me.” With easy steps, he begins to approach you, collar ready in his hand. 

“I’ll be so good to you, Sugar.” The cowbell on the collar jingles with every step he takes. You feel dread fill your stomach, unable to do anything against him as he gently, but firmly, grabs your chin to lift your head, giving him access to your neck. Tears wet your cheeks as you feel the collar snap against your throat like a promise of your future captivity.

“Don’t worry, darling. You know I would do anythin’ for ya.” Gingerly, he wipes away your tears, looking pleased. “All you’ve got to do is be good for me.”

[ivyues]

Tangled Lines | 1 | - Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

What started as a simple favor, dropping off a bag, spirals into a whirlwind of unexpected feelings and unspoken tension.

Part 2: Caught in the Middle | Part 3: Future Hyung-in-Law

It was supposed to be a quick errand. Lee Know had left his bag at home, and you were on your way to Seoul for a short trip anyway. You’d planned to drop it off at his dorm – no big deal. You didn’t expect much, certainly not a run-in with anyone other than your brother.

You followed the directions Lee Know had sent you and pulled up to the apartment complex. He'd mentioned his dorm several times, but this was the first time you’d ever actually been here. As you walked up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, unsure.

You rang the doorbell and waited. After a few moments, the door swung open, and there stood a guy you didn’t recognize.

He was tall-ish, dressed casually, with messy dark hair and an easy smile. And though you didn’t know exactly who he was, you couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked, his eyes lighting up with surprise and curiosity when he saw you standing there with a bag in hand.

“Hi…?” You hesitated, unsure if you had the right place. “Uh, I’m looking for Lee Minho? I’m his sister – he left something at home and I’m supposed to drop it off.”

The guy blinked in confusion for a split second, then his expression softened into something warmer. “Ah, so you’re his sister. He didn’t really mention that he has one. I’m Seungmin, by the way. Hyung isn’t home right now, but you’re welcome to wait.”

You were still standing at the door, processing everything. This was definitely not Lee Know. You had imagined this whole interaction would be simple: drop off the bag, say a quick hello, and head out. But there was something about Seungmin’s easy going demeanor that made you hesitate.

“Oh,” you said, realizing you were probably standing there awkwardly. You tried to adjust the bag in your hand, giving him a nervous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just leave it here—”

“No, no,” Seungmin cut you off, holding up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s fine. Come on in. He would probably kill me if I didn’t let you inside. Lee Know’s stuff is everywhere, though – warning in advance.” He gave a sheepish grin, clearly used to the chaos.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, stepping inside.

As soon as you entered, you realized that he was right – Lee Know’s ‘stuff’ was indeed scattered everywhere. Shoes piled near the door, jackets on the couch, random snacks, and clutter in every corner. It felt so… lived-in. Real. It was kind of charming, in a messy, chaotic way.

“So, do you guys always live like this?” you asked, half teasing, half amused by the clutter.

Seungmin chuckled. “You should see Felix’s side. This is nothing compared to his mess.” He led you into the living room, where he motioned to the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some water for you while you wait.”

As Seungmin disappeared into the kitchen, you sat down on the couch, looking around. You hadn’t expected to spend time here, but the laid-back atmosphere made it feel oddly comfortable. You noticed a few framed photos of the group on the wall – some from concerts, others just candid shots of the guys laughing together.

Seungmin returned with a glass of water and handed it to you. He sat down on the arm of the couch, casually resting one foot on the seat. He didn’t seem rushed, nor did he act weird about the fact that you were here in Lee Know’s absence.

“So, I take it you and Lee Know are pretty close?” Seungmin asked, taking a sip from his own glass of water.

“Yeah, we’re close,” you said with a smile. “He’s my older brother, so, of course, he’s annoying. But that’s what older brothers are for, right?”

Seungmin nodded, his lips curving into a grin. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You laughed, the easy back-and-forth making you feel more comfortable. And, truth be told, you found yourself glancing at him more than you had planned. He was cute, undeniably so, with his expressive eyes and the way he seemed so effortlessly relaxed even in the middle of a stranger walking into his home.

You casually brought up something about how Lee Know was always messing around with his bandmates, and Seungmin smiled at the comment, sharing a story of their last rehearsal and how Lee Know had pulled a prank on Hyunjin. It felt so easy, like you were just chatting with a friend you’d known forever.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and you looked up to see Lee Know walking in with Felix and I.N trailing behind him. He froze when he saw you sitting there with Seungmin, a strange look flashing across his face.

“Uh,” Lee Know said, his voice tinged with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought your bag,” you said casually, holding it up for him. “You left it at home. Seungmin was nice enough to let me wait for you.”

Lee Know shot a quick glance at Seungmin, who was now grinning, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you two are already chatting it up?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin replied smoothly. “We were just getting to know each other. Your sister’s cool.”

Seungmin didn’t just mean it as a compliment; there was a teasing note to his voice, and you could tell he was just enjoying the moment with Lee Know. But there was something in the way he spoke, as though he was daring Lee Know to be annoyed. You could tell it was playful – he wasn’t quite serious, and he didn’t think anything more would come from it. After all, he didn’t even want to start anything that might cause trouble. But for now, he wanted to tease Lee Know, especially since it was so easy to get a rise out of him like that.

You stood up, handing Lee Know the bag. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You could tell by the way Seungmin looked at you that he wasn’t just teasing you; there was something more genuine behind the conversation. But of course, you’d never let your brother know that.

-----

Felix, ever the social butterfly, had exchanged numbers with you long before, and somewhere in the process of joking group chats and shared chaos, Seungmin had slid into your messages.

The texts started off simple.

A casual “thanks for the water” message after your first visit turned into occasional updates about Lee Know: "Your brother’s sulking because Changbin ate his snacks again" or "Did he always hoard laundry like this?" 

You didn’t think much of it at first. After all, Seungmin was easy to talk to. He had a quick wit that matched your sarcasm, and his humor always made you laugh harder than you’d admit. But the conversations had shifted somewhere along the way – becoming more personal, more frequent.

It wasn’t just updates about Lee Know anymore.

Seungmin: “Did you see that new ramen place on your side of town?” You: “I’ve heard it’s good. Why, thinking of coming all the way here?” Seungmin: “Maybe I just needed an excuse.”

It was subtle, these shifts. A lingering tone of something that felt like flirting but stayed safely within the lines of plausible deniability. But you caught yourself smiling at his messages more than you should.

The problem was, you liked him.

Not in a passing way or a harmless crush you could laugh off later. No, Seungmin’s steady humor and surprising kindness were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just cute; he was the kind of guy who listened, who noticed little things, who made you feel at ease even when you were overthinking everything.

But every time you thought about it – about what it might mean – you hit a wall.

Your brother’s voice played in your head whenever you thought about crossing that invisible line. What would he think if he knew? Worse, what if it messed things up in the group? You didn’t want to be the reason Seungmin hesitated during practice or avoided Lee Know’s eye.

And Seungmin? Well, he had his own internal battle.

The teasing texts and playful banter were easy – familiar ground that didn’t require him to confront how he was starting to feel about you. But when you sent him a photo of the ramen you’d finally tried, captioned with "Guess you missed out", he stared at his screen longer than he should have.

It wasn’t the photo or the food. It was your smile, that small, effortless curve of your lips that had been stuck in his mind since the day you showed up at the dorm.

"Get it together, Seungmin," he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know was his friend, his brother in everything but blood. And falling for you wasn’t just breaking an unspoken rule; it felt like betraying that bond.

One night, after a long day of rehearsals, Seungmin found himself scrolling through your chat history. His finger hovered over the keyboard, debating whether or not to reply to your latest message. You’d sent him a photo of one of your cats – curled up in a pile of freshly folded laundry.

He smiled despite the unease feelings, typing back before he could second-guess it:

“Looks like you’re more of a cat person too. Must run in the family.” You replied instantly “I love my cats, but I don’t mind dogs either. Don’t tell Lee Know though – he’d probably disown me for even saying that.” and the conversation spiraled into a late-night exchange about pets, chaotic siblings, and everything in between. It was easy. Too easy.

And then you said something that made his heart stop.

“I always feel like I can tell you anything. Weird, right?”

He stared at the words, feeling a tug in his chest that he couldn’t ignore anymore. He wanted to feel proud of that – of being someone you trusted. But all he could think about was how wrong it felt to be the person catching feelings for you.

He set his phone down, rubbing a hand over his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You’d noticed the shift in his texts lately – the hesitation, the shorter replies. You felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he was pulling back, realizing that this… whatever it was between you… shouldn’t be happening.

And you couldn’t blame him. You’d thought about pulling back yourself.

But instead, late one evening, you found yourself typing out a message you weren’t sure you’d send.

You: “I feel like we’ve both been avoiding something. And I get it – I do. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. And I don’t want to mess things up for you or my brother, so if this needs to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before pressing send.

Seungmin: “I care about you too. Probably more than I should. But I don’t want this to hurt anyone – least of all you.”

The relief of his words hit you immediately, but so did the weight of his hesitation.

You: “So what do we do?”

Seungmin hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally typed:

Seungmin: “We take it slow. We’re honest – with each other, with Lee Know, when the time’s right. And if this starts feeling wrong, we stop. No questions asked.”

-----

Seungmin sat in the practice room long after everyone else had left. He fiddled with his phone, the screen dark, but his thoughts racing. He had made a decision, one he couldn’t back out of now.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling to your name in his messages.

Seungmin: “I’m going to talk to him.”

The three dots indicating your reply appeared almost instantly.

You: “Are you crazy?”

Seungmin could almost hear your voice in the text – half incredulous, half offended.

You: “I mean, I get it. He deserves to know, and I respect that. But seriously… you’re telling him this?”

Seungmin: “I don’t want to go behind his back. It’s not just about this – it’s about the group, too. This has to be on the table.”

You: “Fine. But don’t expect me to save you if he kills you.”

He smiled faintly at the reply but couldn’t shake the nerves coiled in his chest.

When Lee Know walked into the practice room, his phone still in his hands, he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”

Seungmin stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Waiting for you.”

Lee Know gave him a wary glance, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

“Hyung,” Seungmin started, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk for a minute? Like, for real?”

Lee Know’s expression shifted slightly at the earnestness in Seungmin’s voice. “Okay… What’s up?”

Seungmin sat back down on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s about your sister.”

Lee Know’s posture straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing. “What about her?”

Seungmin hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to meet Lee Know’s gaze. “Since she dropped off your bag… we’ve been talking. Just texting, mostly. Nothing serious has happened, and I swear it hasn’t crossed any lines. But… I like her.”

The room went uncomfortably quiet. Lee Know blinked slowly, his face unreadable.

“You like her?” he repeated, his tone flat.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. And I wanted to tell you before anything else happened because…” He exhaled, his voice softening. “Because I respect you, hyung. You’re like a brother to me, and I don’t want to screw that up by hiding something like this from you.”

Lee Know stared at him for a long moment, his expression somewhere between disbelief and scrutiny.

Finally, he sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, you? Of all people?”

Seungmin let out a dry laugh. “What, am I not good enough?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lee Know shot back, rolling his eyes. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Trust me, it’s unexpected for me too,” Seungmin admitted.

Lee Know rubbed his temples. “You’re not messing around, are you? This isn’t some prank or… I don’t know, something stupid?”

“It’s not a joke,” Seungmin said firmly. “I mean it. And honestly…” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe it won’t even go anywhere. I don’t know. It’s early, and nothing has really happened yet. But I’d rather be upfront about it than hide it.”

Lee Know studied him for another long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this. She’s my sister, Seungmin. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely. “You’re you.”

Lee Know leaned forward, his voice dropping as he let out a soft groan. “But I get it. She’s great. And I can't exactly tell her who to see.”

Seungmin’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, relief flickering across his face.

“That said,” Lee Know continued, his tone sharpening again, “if you screw this up – even a little – I will make your life miserable. And I don’t mean in a fun, teasing way. Got it?”

Seungmin nodded seriously. “Understood.”

Lee Know leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t,” Seungmin said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Seungmin stood up. “Thanks, hyung.”

As Seungmin left the practice room, Lee Know called after him, “And don’t expect me to go easy on you during dance practice!”

-----

Later that night, Seungmin texted you.

Seungmin: “Mission accomplished. I’m alive, and your brother didn’t kill me.”

You: “I’m surprised. I half-expected him to throw you out a window.”

Seungmin: “He might have, but I reminded him how irreplaceable I am. Also, he threatened me, so we’re all good now.”

You laughed at the text, shaking your head.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: “Seriously? The dog? I’m telling Songie, Dongie, and Dori that you don’t love them anymore.”

masterlist

[darlingdaisyfarm]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ִֶָ mullet!stan pines x farmer's daughter!reader ♡༉‧₊˚.

honestly idk what happened i just wrote this in like 40 minutes because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone, i never write this fast sorry for the random but i love that dynamic 🤍

Gravity Falls market days were a real mess you’d grown up in but never quite adjusted to. the sun sat high and too mean, slanting golden light across the rows of wooden stalls and voices carried sharp over the sound of shuffling feet. you didn’t mind the noise because it made the hours feel faster.

your hands worked quickly, sorting the last of the peaches into the old wicker basket, as you clearly remembered your mom’s words “don’t bruise the fruit, honey; folks don’t buy what looks spoiled.” you smoothed your palm over the fabric of your overalls, standing up straight to greet the next customer and—

he wasn’t what you expected and you weren’t sure what to make of him. broad shoulders under a faded red jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets, huge dark bags under his eyes. he looked rough, unpolished you'd say, like he’d stepped out of a life far removed from your quiet one and found himself here by accident.

he nodded toward your baskets. “how much for the peaches?”

you sized him up. “depends,” you answered. “you actually gonna pay?”

that caught him off guard, did he really look that bad? his lips twitched into grin. “didn’t know this place came with an interrogation.”

“it’s not interrogation,” you shot back, leaning against the edge of the stall. “it’s just business. besides, you look like the type to run off with free samples.”

he laughed then. “well, guess you caught me,” he held his hands up like he’d been caught red-handed. “but im starving here. what’s it gonna take to get one of—”

“ahh, you must be the scientist everyone talks about.” you interrupted him, shifting the basket awkwardly against your hip.

“uh right, that's me.”

“mom mentioned you,” you continued, even though he didn't seem in the mood for conversation. “said you were. . . weird.” the word came out of your mouth before you even realized it, and your cheeks instantly flushed. great. off to a fantastic start.

but he didn't seem offended. on the contrary, he looked amused, slightly raising his eyebrows. “weird, huh?”

“her words, not mine,” you explained quickly, though it wasn't exactly untrue. “but yeah. she said you moved out here to study something? bugs? dirt?”

he chuckled. “somethin’ like that. but im pretty hungry. so what’s it gonna take to get one of those?”

you should’ve turned him away, told him to come back with cash like everyone else. but your gut told you he’d actually gone a little too long without a decent meal. yeah, thats how bad he looked.

so you reached into the basket and handed him one.

“on the house,” you said.

he blinked at you, caught somewhere between surprise and suspicion. “seriously?”

“just this once,” you warned. “but if you come back, i expect full price.”

“aww, isn't that adorable, thank you, sweetie.” he took the peach, turning it over in his hands. “heard people here mentioning you're generous girl.”

...

the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as you ride your bicycle down the lonely country road. the day has been long, filled with selling farm food. your hat shields your face from the fading light, but a chill is settling in as the evening approaches.

the basket on your bike rattled with what was left of the day’s haul, less than you’d hoped for but enough to keep the house running another week. your legs ached from pedaling though. the cold was creeping in now.

when the headlights appeared behind you, cutting through the soft twilight, you almost didn’t notice. but then the car slowed, pulling up beside you and you heard the window roll down.

“need a lift?” a smoky voice asked.

it was him. Stanford. the same red jacket, the same grin. he surely hadn’t been expecting to see you but was damn happy about it anyway.

you hesitated as you looked at him and his car, tightening your hands around the handlebars. “and leave my bike?”

“throw it in the back,” he told you, jerking his thumb toward the back seat. “unless you’re real set on freezing out here.”

you glanced at the empty road stretching ahead of you, then back at Stanford. he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to offer something for nothing, but he also didn’t seem like the kind to push it if you said no.

so you nodded. Stanley gave you a reassuring smile. “hop in, toots. it's getting cold.” you let him haul the bike into the back before climbing into the passenger seat. the warmth from inside is immediate, a stark contrast to the cool evening air.

he didn’t say much at first, just flicked on the radio and kept his eyes on the road. but then, without looking over, he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to you.

“here, take this. it’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm.”

you took the fabric and when you putted it around your shoulders, you felt the softness of it against your skin, grateful for the gesture. “thank you,” it was too big, the sleeves hanging loose past your wrists, but it was so warm. although it smelled very strongly of cigarettes.

he shrugged modestly. “no problem. it’s the least i can do after the way you treated me last week.”

“so,” he said after a beat, glancing over with that same crooked grin. “what’s a farmer’s daughter doin’ out on the road this late?”

you pulled the jacket tighter around you. “work doesn’t stop just ‘cause the sun goes down.”

“hard worker, huh? guess your mom was right about you.”

you glanced at him in surprise and furrowed your brow. “you keep bringing up my mom like you actually know her.” you said suspiciously.

“ran into her a couple weeks ago,” he admitted. “she was real proud, talkin’ ‘bout how her daughter’s the backbone of the farm.”

heat rose to your cheeks and you turned your gaze back to the road. “she talks too much.”

“nah, she’s just proud of you.” this time, you stayed quiet, letting the hum of the engine carry you the rest of the way home.

...

the next time you see him, it’s at the farm on early morning, when dew still clings to the grass and the sky’s a pale, watercolor wash. you’d barely had time to start on your chores when that same old car rumbled down the dirt track.

Stanley stepped out, wearing that red jacket you’d given back last night, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “you forgot your bike.”

“you didn’t have to bring it all the way here.” you smiled shyly

“well,” he glanced around, assessing the place, “figured you could use it more than i could. besides, wasn’t much of a detour.”

in addition, it was the first time Stan met your dog as he stayed at the farm to try the freshly baked apple pie that you offered.

you were hauling a basket of fresh vegetables from the field when you heard a low, warning growl. you looked up, biting back a grin. “she won’t bite.”

“uh-huh,” Stan said, standing frozen in place as the big scruffy mutt circled him.

you set the basket down, whistling low, and your dog trotted over, tail wagging now that you’d given the all-clear. “this is Molly,” you said, ruffling her ears. “dont worry, she’s just protective.”

Stan crouched slowly, one knee to the dirt, sticking his hand out like he was afraid she might lunge. Molly sniffed him once, then pressed her head against his palm, tail thumping in approval.

“well, look at that,” he said, scratching behind her ears. his hands are so big, calloused, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Molly leaned into his hand, letting out a pleased huff. “she likes me.”

but then Molly rolled over, flopping onto her back in the dust and he laughed. “spoiled,” he said, rubbing her belly as she wagged her tail.

“you don’t even know the half of it. she gets the best scraps off the table. mom says it’s why she’s got such shiny fur.”

Stan grinned. “lucky dog.” oh, how he wished he could be in Molly's shoes. to be needed at least by someone, to be taken care of, to be fed. “so, you sellin’ this week?”

you nodded, but your gaze drifted toward the fields. there was still so much work left to do, rows and rows of crops waiting to be picked and sorted. you sighed, already feeling the ache in your arms.

Stan seemed to catch on. “well, if you’re ever lookin’ for extra hands, i know a guy who owes you a couple favors.”

...

you don’t know why you start bringing him food. it’s not like Stanley asked for it and he’s certainly not the kind of man who’d admit if he needed it. but you, the sweetest girl in town, noticed how he looked that first day at the market, hunger written all over him like and that makes it impossible not to.

it started with a couple of peaches tucked into a paper bag which you carefully left on the counter of the Mystery Shack with a quick, “thought you might want something fresh.” but then it grew into a jar of honey. then. . . in a bundle of wildflowers tied with twine.

one day, you showed up with a loaf of bread so fresh it was still warm, wrapped in an old tea towel embroidered with little sunflowers. Stanley was tinkering with something behind the counter, muttering something about journals but when he saw you, he stopped, wiping his hands on his pants.

“you know, you don’t have to keep bringing me this stuff,” he said even as he took the loaf from your hands.

“i know, yeah, but you’re always here, and I figured. . . well, everyone deserves a decent meal now and then.” he looked at you for a long moment, longer than felt normal, trying to figure out if you were pulling some kind of trick.

“thanks,” he said your name. “that means a lot.”

and it becomes a thing, fresh eggs one day, a loaf of bread the next. you don’t stay long when you drop them off, because Stanford always says he's kinda busy here, dealing with some of his "scientific research”, so you quickly greet him, maybe say some comment about the weather, but every damn time he sees you, his face softens, genuine smile appearing on it, his shoulders relax too. maybe you’re not just bringing food but something else he’s been missing.

and sometimes, Stanley feels too lonely, so he pulls out an old chair and offers you coffee, the two of you sitting on the porch while he tells you about his life.

[stevenose]

while we’re on the subject…

I feel like Steve wouldn’t be that into smoking, and even if he wanted to he’d end up babysitting everyone who was high bc yknow forever a mother.

but but but imagine he has a crush on reader who is very big stoner vibes, but he’s been too nervous to make a move. they’re at a get together with the older kids and maybe some randoms. they go outside with Eddie a few others to smoke, and for the first time ever Steve ends up opening the sliding door and asking to join.

He sits next to reader and takes a hit and suddenly he’s back to his king Steve bullshit. He’s brazen with his stares, his compliments and little touches. Everyone is too high to notice, except reader who has no idea how to respond. Something about not only seeing Steve going back to his cocky, brazen self, but to do it all while holding a joint between his fingers, does it for me personally.

i love this so so much….!!!!! anon this is such a good idea.

like it’s a little bit pathetic when he comes out and coughs his head off and refuses water when everyone knows he needs it. and he still sort of chastises everyone because you’re smoking too much, you’re gonna get sick!

but he kind of forgot how awesome being high is. he hasn’t smoked since senior year of high school and he’s almost wondering why he stopped.

and, actually, his old high school self comes out when he smokes. ten minutes after his last hit he’s walking like he owns the world, cracking witty jokes, winking at you like you’re sharing a secret. you’re taken aback, not used to a laid back, suave steve.

he sits side by side with you, his thigh pressing against yours. he’s hot. always runs hot. he’s making you hot, the joint back in his hands as it rotates around the coffee table. he’s telling a story, animated, chuckling. ashes the joint and holds it out to you.

“take a big hit for me, huh?”

steve holds the damn thing while you inhale, staring at him with wide eyes. he disappears in a cloud of smoke when you exhale, and it’s like it’s only you and him. there’s a sidebar conversation happening over something steve said and no one notices when he winks at you.

and he passes it past you to the next person, casual again while you sit reeling. your heart beats quick and you wonder if he can feel it or hear it. if he knows how worked up he just got you.

“you okay?” he asks, leaning over to speak softly into your ear.

“yeah.” it’s unconvincing.

he puts a hand on your thigh as if to comfort you. “too big?”

your eyes widen. “huh?”

“the hit,” he grins. “too big for you?”

you stare because you don’t know how to answer. really dumbstruck over him. you didn’t even know he could be this way.

“you’re really pretty, you know.” steve squeezes your thigh, makes sure to drag his fingers inward and up swiftly before pulling away. “look so pretty with your lips wrapped around that.”

he nods towards the joint that’s been stalling in eddie’s hands for about three minutes now, while everyone listens to him tell the story about how he spent three days in jail.

you still don’t know what to say, suddenly feeling too high - dizzy, a little in love. “thank you.”

he tilts his head, furrows his brows, a gleam in his eyes giving away his lack of sincerity. “makes me wonder what else your lips look good wrapped around.”

“harrington! what’s the name of that jackass football player that bought the blow from me?”

steve turns to answer him, like he didn’t just make your thighs clench. you take a deep breath and run your hand through your hair, looking around the room to see if anyone else noticed. they didn’t, of course.

but he’s back, casual again while he puts his arm around you. makes it look like he’s just getting comfortable. you can smell him - the cologne, the hairspray, the weed, his sandalwood deodorant. it’s all encompassing, comforting, makes you salivate for more.

you turn to look at him, catching his little smirk.

steve looks back at you, so fondly, his soft eyes red.

“what?” he asks.

“steve.”

his fingers find the strap of your bra under your shirt. he rubs over it. “somethin’ wrong? y’got somethin’ to tell me?”

you feel hypnotized by his eyes. “‘n-no.”

he talks softly to you. “you need somethin’, then? you feeling okay? need me to take care of you?”

you freeze, thinking for a long moment before nodding. because he looks to damn good with his hooded eyes and a shirt that might rip if he exerts his muscles to much. it’s precisely what you’d like to see, in fact. need to see those strong biceps, need to see them straining while he holds himself up over you. need him to take care of you like he always does when he’s sober.

“think you should go lay down.” his nose almost touches yours. “be right up to make you feel better, ‘kay?”

and you’re running up to the guest bedroom within seconds.

[noirsdoll]

your mouth washing work is so good! what if curly was the one scheming the baby trapping on captain reader, like taking the condom off mid stroke (jimmy is fs the one that pushed him to do it, devil on his shoulder)

thank you so much what?!? i think curly would baby trap because he doesn’t want to lose you while he’s gone… (i didn’t see captain!reader until i was done writing it SORRY)

cw for baby trapping and a sprinkle of manipulation!! also some filthyyy smut and curly breeding kink!!

Piloting the Tulpar is like therapy for Curly. The gentle hum as the ship drifts through space, the dreamy green glow of the controls and diagnostics. He sits back in his chair, watching the blinking screen that displays the Tulpar’s trajectory.

They’re on the ending branch of their cruise, on their way back to Earth. Curly’s only thinking of one thing— you. He’s excited to get back and see your gorgeous face in person again.

Jimmy’s beside him, picking the dirt under his fingernails, tongue poking out of his mouth as he does it with utmost concentration. He’s bouncing his leg like he has somewhere to be.

“I’m thinking of putting a ring on her finger,” Curly says into the silence, “when we get back.”

“Cool.” Jimmy doesn’t look up, but he frowns, wrinkling his nose.

The quiet drags, Curly tips his head back against the seat, sighing in content. He has the whole thing planned out. He’s gonna take you to your favourite restaurant and ask them to bring over the band and play a song you like. He’s even got a whole speech that’s he knows by heart—

“That’s not gonna stop her from cheating on you.”

“What?” Curly turns to look at him.

“Yeah, well, I mean, what do you think she’s doing while she’s waiting for you to come back?” Jimmy snorts. “It’s not like you’re there to fuck her when she wants.”

Curly’s unsure of what to say. He’s never thought about it like that.

“We were gone, what, a little over a year this time?” He reclines with a creak, grinning. “Who even knows if she’ll still be there waiting for you?”

Curly frowns. “What could I do?” Jimmy’s right, what if he comes back to you and you’ve moved on or you’ve grown bored of waiting?

“Knock her up,” Jimmy says, like it’s the most obvious solution.

His eyes widen. “I couldn’t do that— We haven’t even talked about kids yet.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Then don’t talk to her about it. You want the relationship to last, right? This is the best way.”

The way Jimmy talks to him sometimes makes Curly feel like he’s looking at the world through a whole different lens, like Jimmy is expanding his horizons. And Jimmy’s right. You wouldn’t be able to leave with your belly all swollen with his kid.

So Curly does the unthinkable. When Curly gets home and you both have your habitual fucking that is more humping and groping than anything meaningful, he puts his plan into action.

Curly’s lips slot with yours, he kisses you messily. Your nails drag over the broad planes of his back as he lays you down like he has been wanting to do all this time. He thinks he almost cums just from slipping his dick in, the way your pussy clamps down on him is tighter than any hug you’ve pulled him into.

You both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath, the air is hot and dizzying and there is so much want coursing through both of your systems. And then Curly sets his pace.

It’s sweaty and sloppy, shallow thrusts as he doesn’t want to leave your warm cunt for too long. He holds you down with one big hand spread over your stomach, fucking into you like it’s life or death.

His dick “pretends” to slip out of you, like his fat head could ever miss your cunt— it’s practically muscle memory. As he goes to realign his cock, he slips off the condom, sandwiching it into the pleats of the tousled sheets behind him.

You don’t notice, too busy moaning and whining and drooling into your pillow as Curly’s rhythm turns damn near brutal. God, he’s gonna breed you, he’s gonna fucking breed you. He can’t go back now.

Wet strings of your slick connect his hips to yours as your pussy leaks all over itself. The sounds it’s making are almost pornographic. Curly’s thumb slips on your soaked clit as he makes you cum alongside him. He read somewhere that it helps get you pregnant too.

You’re too fucked out to notice that creampie he just gave you, thick, milky cum dripping out of you. He reaches down with one finger and pushes his cum in deeper. He doesn’t want you wasting a drop.

Maybe this was a net positive, Curly thinks as he cleans you up, peppering kisses along your body and praising you for your hard work— laying there and taking it.

Now you have something to keep yourself company the next time he’s gone.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[herweirdass]

a request for Joe where reader buys him flowers

the offseason was a rare moment of calm in joe burrow’s otherwise chaotic life. the constant grind of practices, games, and media appearances was replaced with quiet mornings, lazy afternoons, and moments he could actually share with you.

you loved surprising joe, and today was no exception. it had been a particularly tough week for him—rehab sessions for a nagging injury and endless meetings about next season’s game plan. you wanted to remind him that he was more than just the cincinnati bengals’ quarterback.

so, you walked into his apartment with a bouquet of sunflowers and white lilies—bright, cheerful, and just a little unexpected, much like your relationship.

joe was sprawled on the couch, his glasses perched on his nose as he read a book. he glanced up when he heard the door, his expression softening when he saw you. “hey,” he said, setting the book aside. “what’s this?”

you grinned, holding out the bouquet. “these are for you.”

his brows knit together in confusion. “flowers? for me?”

“yes, for you,” you said, laughing at his bewildered expression. “why not? you deserve flowers too, joe.”

he stood, walking over to take the bouquet from your hands. his fingers brushed yours, and you noticed the faint blush creeping up his neck. “i don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“well, it’s about time someone did,” you teased, watching as he brought the bouquet closer, his nose brushing against the petals. “do you like them?”

he looked at you, his lips curving into that boyish smile you loved so much. “yeah. they’re perfect. thank you.”

you followed him into the kitchen as he rummaged around for a vase. once he’d arranged the flowers, he set them on the counter, taking a step back to admire them. “you know,” he said, turning to you, “i think i like this. being spoiled by you.”

“oh, do you now?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

he smirked, pulling you into his arms. “yeah. but don’t think you’re off the hook. i’ve got some surprises planned for you too.”

“oh, i’m sure you do,” you said, resting your head against his chest.

joe pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft. “thank you for this, really. it’s a small thing, but it means a lot.”

you tilted your head up to look at him. “you’re always giving so much of yourself to everyone else. i just wanted to give something back to you.”

he didn’t say anything, just held you a little tighter. and as the sunflowers and lilies filled the room with their bright, fresh scent, you knew that sometimes, it was the smallest gestures that meant the most.

[gothicfied]

Kang No-eul / Guard 011 Headcanons

Pairing: Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Working that shitty job as a costume performer at your local amusement park was hard enough, and the money problems that plagued your every thought were making the situation worse. Most of your co-workers would go out for dinner together after your shift, basically only to drink their problems away and forget about this hell for a night. The only one who'd also stay behind like you was No-eul. You didn't know much about her, as she'd be super secretive about her life, but you at least knew she was a nice person.

જ⁀➴ One time after work it was literally pouring outside, and since you didn't own a car or an umbrella apparently, she offered to take you home with her. You guys hurried over her car and got in as soon as possible and only then you noticed that it seemed like she was living in here. Looking at No-eul, you could tell that she was slightly embarrassed, so you didn't bother mention it or asking about it — Instead, you thanked her a thousand times and more for taking you home.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she'd drive you home one or two times a week so you wouldn't have to take public transportation. At one point, you invited No-eul in, offering to cook dinner as a thank you to her. After a few times it became a regular thing and she actually seemed like she was enjoying it, a smile replacing her usual stoic expression. You also never quite understood how she was so good at her job, entertaining the kids and all, when she was the complete opposite when taking the heavy costume off.

જ⁀➴ She'd help you out in the kitchen sometimes, often catching herself staring at some old childhood pictures of you that you hung up on the refrigerator.

"Oh, that one is cute." No-eul mumbled, pointing at a picture taken at one of your school's dance recitals when you were quite young. "Huh? Oh yeah," you turned around to the picture she was pointing at chuckling a bit, "I was like what? Maybe three? Four? It's one of my mom's favorite pictures, though." You didn't get a reponse back. When you turned around again, No-eul was still staring at it almost longingly.

��⁀➴ Back at work, you were the only person she'd talk with during the breaks. Some of your co-workers would ask you how you gained her trust like that, since No-eul didn't even speak to them directly at all. You'd just shrug, not knowing how to answer them. Perhaps it was a bit strange how much she seemed to like you, but you certainly weren't complaining.

જ⁀➴ After some time, she'd open up to you about some of the things in her past and she explained her reason for living in her car with that she simply didn't have the money for an apartment. Apparently, she urgently needed it for something else, but she wouldn't tell you more about it. Just the fact No-eul was ready to share bits of her private life with you made your heart feel warm. You liked that she felt safe around you, and she did, too.

જ⁀➴ It got really late one night, so you offered her to sleep over at your place, since you probably owed her so much in gas money anyway. With a bit of hesitation, she'd accept, a genuine smile gracing her face. She was kind of forced to sleep in your bed as well, since your couch was just not big enough for one person to sleep on. No matter how much you apologized for that, No-eul would reassure you that this was more than fine and that she was really thankful you did this for her. She'd take your hand to squeeze it a couple of times to emphasize her words, even.

જ⁀➴ It felt like you two were teenage girls again, having a sleepover while you got ready for bed. No-eul showing you real emotions like happiness, excitement and gratefulness was so weird but also very appreciated by you. You never thought you'd come this close to her, shoulder on shoulder while laying together in your bed. Neither you or her minded it at all though and that was evident through the comfortable silence between you two. Not much had to be said in the moment for it to not be awkward.

જ⁀➴ When you woke up the morning after, No-eul was gone. You had figured that she'd probably be prone to do that, but you were still a bit baffled when finding the spot next to you cold and empty. She needed to get something done, that's at least what her text message said. This was typical No-eul, even if this was the first time this had happened.

જ⁀➴ No-eul wasn't able to get you out of her head. You were so irreducibly kind, soft spoken, pretty and just something that sge wasn't. Even back in the car she couldn't contain a smile when thinking about you, the conversations you had, your laugh, your face.. it wasn't like she didn't like it. She just wasn't used to this feeling at all ever since leaving her home years ago. But perhaps, just for you, she'd be ready to get used to it again.

[vamp1reg1rrrl]

Abby Anderson w/ Alt reader

Pt 1 (??)

lmk if you guys want a pt 2.

No TWs really. Just mention of reader being afab sorta?? reader is more feminine so if that bothers you this probably isn’t for you. smoking also mentioned multiple times

- You and Abby met at a local cafe near your college. You had been a barista for about 4 months now, needing some extra money for college and what not.

- Abby asked for a black coffee, as she usually did. And you got it for her without saying much more, as you usually did.

- This time did not go how it usually did though. No, not at all. Unlike the usual order and go Abby decided to stick around for once, taking a seat at one of the small circular tables that littered the small coffee shop.

- When she sat down she got all her class work out, her computer, book, and notebook along with a pen and pencils.

- A couple hours go by and you were going on your break, untying the apron from your waist. You round to the front to go hang out in your car on your 30. Of course before that you had to have a cigarette so you sit on the curb next to your car, lighting one.

“You know those things are bad for you, right?”

You glance behind you to see oh so fine Abby Anderson. You take a puff and shoot her a grin.

“Really? I wasn’t aware.”

She laughs and takes a seat next to you on the curb, her big boots clacking on the cement.

“Can I have one?”

“You smoke?”

“Nope.”

- And that’s how it started. She’d come in, you’d go on your break, she’d smoke a cigarette with you, and you guys would sit there and talk. About nothing really, school work, your jobs, music, just little silly daily things. Nothing too serious.

- You had always been more on the alternative side but you really got into it once you turned 18. A few tattoos here and there, piercings up your ears and of course a facial one or two (more if you prefer).

- Of course it wasn’t uncommon for people to think this was weird, or unattractive, or on the far end even “demonic”. But not Abby Anderson. Oh no, as soon as she saw you she was interested. The way your eyeliner made your eyes stand out, the dark lipstick you wore, even your piercings. Every little thing had her stomach doing flips around you.

- So like any sane person does, she didn’t say a thing to you. She wasn’t awkward, not weird nor anything like that. Just shy. Not that you could tell with her more so stoic expression most the time. She’d get her coffee, black as always, and leave. Now what you didn’t know is that for 1. she did not take her coffee black. No, she simply thought it’d impress you. She was far from alternative herself so she really took the whole dark and dreary thing to heart and just assumed you’d think it was cool. (Spoiler alert: you did.)

- And 2. she had been dressing up everyday for you. Now, of course you wouldn’t know that considering you hadn’t really know her prior. Sure, maybe seen her around campus once or twice but nothing note worthy. But she had, slowly, trying to impress you in some way or another.

- At first she just changed up her clothes a bit, wearing a band tee she had cut the sleeves off of. And lord did she love the response it got.

“Nice shirt. You listen to them?”

“Oh, uh yeah, i do. Thanks.”

“Mhm. Black as usual today I assume?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

- If you hadn’t noticed she wasn’t exactly the best at flirting. It’s not that she was particularly bad at it, she just felt awkward. Especially considering she didn’t assume she was your type. Hell, she didn’t even know if you were into women.

- Eventually her effort become a bit more. Wearing a chain necklace with a cross, maybe a more grunge look with some black cargos. Hell she even painted her nails black to match with yours. The fact that you didn’t get acrylics was the one thing giving her hope on your sexuality.

- When her sitting with you on your break became a bit normal, you decided to test the waters.

“So… you got a crush on me or something?”

“What? Why would you even-”

“Pfft I’m kidding oh my god. You look like you’re about to have a heart attack” you couldn’t help the small laughs leaving your lips.

“Fuck… you’re a dick.” and then she laughed too.

“Wow big tough anderson can cuss huh?”

“Of course I can, I am an adult after all.”

“Of course, of course. So since you’re an adult, be honest with me. What’s with this? You got a crush for real? Or maybe you just wanna hook up? I don’t assume it’s just a case of a friend crush since you’ve been looking down my shirt since the first time you came in”

You were bold, and that made her nervous. But, it also made her like you more.

She laughed, clearly a bit anxious at the situation.

“Well, uh, I guess you caught me. I was hoping to maybe uh… I don’t know, take you out I guess?”

“About damn time you asked.”

- The first time you went out together she thought her eyeballs might actually pop out of her sockets. Holy. Shit. Was the only thing running through her mind. You looked good. Like really, really, fucking good. You had shown up in a pair of black panty hose that had holes in them, a black skirt, and a burgundy off the shoulder top which had some obscure band on it. And then of course your typical torn-to-shreds converse.

- But little did she know you were thinking the exact same thing. Holy. Shit. She had worn another one of her band tees with the sleeves cut off. Nirvana this time, fuck. Her biceps looked good enough to take a bite out of. And don’t even get started on those god damn black cargos. How was it possible for someone’s ass to look THAT good? And her thighs? You literally wanted her to squash your head with them. But the thing that really topped it off was these little accessories that she added. The delusional part in you hoping it was just for you. The chain she added to the cargos, of course her carabiner attached as well, her black chipped polish. And fuck, the thick silver rings on her fingers.

- Only one thing was running through your mind

‘Please fuck me with those things on oh my go-’

“Ready to go inside?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

- For your first date you had decided to go to a small punk show downtown. You went to them pretty often and when you brought one up she naturally was interested. They were never super big groups, just small locals who were trying to make it big (but more often than not didn’t).

- It was loud. Like REALLY fucking loud. Way louder than Abby was expecting. I mean she knew it wasn’t going to be quiet but fuck, how were you not deaf at this point? Thank god you had given her ear plugs when you came in.

“It’s really loud in here”

“What?”

“I said, It’s really loud in here”

You just laughed and handed her a pack of earplugs. Not that you wore any, you felt they dimmed the experience. No, you wanted to feel the music in your bones. For it to rattle your soul to the core.

- In between sets you’d go outside and smoke a cigarette or maybe even just hit your vape. You and abby would chat about whatever, mainly the music. But eventually you run out of things to say about random small punk groups.

“You look really good tonight”

“Oh, shit, thanks. So do you- I mean, you look better than good. You look amazing, you always do, but, you know..”

Fuck. You had her stomach in literal knots.

“Soooo, when do you plan to kiss me?”

“What?”

She could feel her heart in her god damn throat.

“Unless you don’t plan to? I thought maybe you’d do it once we got outside but maybe you’re more of a kiss her on her doorstep typa’ gal?”

Holy. Shit.

“Do you uh.. do you want me to kiss you?”

“Depends, do you want to kiss me?”

Yes. So fucking badly.

But she just nods silently.

“Then yeah, I want you to kiss me.”

So she did.

- The kiss was clumsy, she was clearly nervous. But that was okay, you didn’t mind. No, if anything, you found it irritatingly cute. How could such a big scary looking person be so. fucking. cute.

- Later when you got home that night, her driving you of course. She walked you to your door. You were a junior so you had your own apartment at this point, sharing with a few roommates.

“Well, I was going to kiss you but clearly that already happened..”

“Hmm, well I don’t see the harm in a second go at it. By the third time maybe we’ll have it perfected.”

You just grin at her, grabbing the collar of her bomber jacket and pulling her down to you, pressing your lips against hers.

- The kiss quickly turned to a small make out session on your front porch, your back pressed against your front door, her big, calloused hands on your waist, pressed up your shirt.

- But all good things come to an end. So eventually she pulls away, flushed, both of you slightly panting, your lipstick smeared around your lips and hers at this point.

“Fuck, I really want to take things slow but you make it so hard.”

“Pfft am I getting you worked up Abby?”

“Yes. You fucking are. And you know it.”

She huffs and rests her head against your shoulder, hands still gripping the bare skin of your waist. You smile softly and press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t worry so much, ‘kay? You’re overthinking it. It’ll happen when it happens.”

- And with that the night ended.

If you guys couldn’t guess I’m alternative with tattoos, piercings, and i smoke lol. so this may be more for me than yall💀💀

But hopefully you enjoyed anyways😛

[startanewdream]

Why would I think you're weak? Everyone gets nightmares."

For hinny, preferably Ginny is the one with the nightmare

Please and thank you

hope you enjoy this sort-of missing moment that could have been:

*******

Harry walked absently to the Room of Requirement. It was still early, but he enjoyed arranging the room ahead of the D.A. lesson; for today, their first real class about the Patronus Charm, he had the idea of filling the room with mirrors so people could look at themselves while they worked the spell. As he reached the usual entrance to the Room, however, he realized he wasn’t the only one who had started early.

The door was already there, even before he asked for it.

He entered carefully, just in case someone had inadvertently found out about Dumbledore’s Army. The room seemed empty — until he noticed a figure in the farthest corner. For a moment, his stomach dropped, remembering the last time he had been there alone with someone — he and Cho weren’t really speaking these days, avoiding each other’s gaze after the disastrous Valentine’s Day date —, but the sight of vivid red hair told him it was someone else.

Ginny hadn’t seen him. She was facing the warm fireplace that was always lit, mumbling to herself. Her eyes narrowed in a fierce expression as she moved her wand; nothing happened, and she sighed unhappily, stooping her feet and looking up to the ceiling—now enchanted, like the Great Hall, to reveal the day sky above. 

Harry caught himself staring at her; it wasn’t the first time he’d done so, not with him teaching the D.A. Ginny’s spellwork had always impressed him; he remembered George once telling him that size was no guarantee of power when talking about Ginny, and though Harry hadn’t witnessed her famous Bat Bogey Hex yet, he could see what George had meant. Ginny had a strong raw power; even though she was still in her Fourth Year, she’d had no problem mastering any OWL-level spell Harry had shown the class. He would often compare her with her boyfriend, her usual duelling partner, and more than once Harry had thought she deserved someone better—he hadn’t said it out loud, but Michael Corner had looked quite bland—

“Ow!”

Ginny’s voice startled Harry. For a crazy moment, he’d thought she’d read his mind and was mad at him—then he realised she looked sheepish. 

“Sorry, I thought I was alone.”

Harry shook his head. “You were, I just came in. Are you practising?”

Ginny flushed as she nodded; it suddenly occurred to Harry that it had been a while since he’d seen that. It was weird seeing her looking flustered when she had been nothing but bright around him.

“You know, I appreciate the effort, but I cannot give you house points.”

As he had a feeling she would, Ginny chuckled.

“Prat,” she called without any malice. “Sorry, I meant Professor Prat.”

Harry smiled. “Much better.” Then he tilted his head. “What were you doing? You didn’t have any problem with the Shield Spell last class.”

“Ah.” She bit her lip. Harry had a sudden urge to ask her to stop it before she drew blood. “The Patronus Charm.”

That made him blink, suddenly aware he had been looking at her mouth.

“Patronus?” He repeated, startled. “We are just getting started.”

“Yeah, but…” Ginny took a deep breath. “It annoyed me that I couldn’t cast it.”

“It was just our first lesson—I mean, not even a lesson, it was just a lecture.” 

It had been the final part of the last D.A. lesson, last week. Satisfied that everyone seemed to have mastered the Shield Spell, Harry had started the Patronus Charm, the one spell everyone was excited about. He hadn’t much time, so he’d decided to explain the theory behind the charm — the first time he’d talked more than show any spell, and rather than seem annoyed, everyone had eagerly listened to him. He had given everyone some sort of homework — to think about their happiest memory — and, in the last five minutes of the lesson, he’d let everyone try the Patronus Charm for the first time.

A few people had managed a silvery wisp, nothing resembling any shape or that lasted more than two seconds. 

“Every time I try, nothing happens.”

“I don’t think anyone can cast it in their first attempt,” Harry said. When Ginny raised her eyebrows, he added, “I didn’t.”

“How many lessons did it take you?”

“A lot,” he answered truthfully. 

Her expression didn’t change. “You were thirteen when you first learnt it.”

“And I had Professor Lupin giving me private lessons. All you got… is me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are an amazing teacher.”

“I think you are comparing me to Umbridge, so—”

“Stop it.” She patted his arm playfully; her hand was warm. “You know you are a decent teacher, come on.”

“I noticed the downgrade from amazing to decent.”

A grin appeared in her lips as if she couldn’t help herself; Harry smiled in answer. He enjoyed her reaction.

“See, that’s better—you cannot try the Patronus Charm if you are all gloomy.”

“I wasn’t gloomy.”

“You were stomping your feet.”

“Maybe I had an itch.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Ginny admitted, and then she threw herself on one big bean couch that had just appeared behind her. “I’m really frustrated.”

Harry gave her a bracing smile as he sank on the couch next to her. “It was just your first try.”

“I got every other spell. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but something happened.” She waved her wand absently, not seeming to notice the sparkling dust that she was casting. “Now I could yell Expecto Patronum until I lost my voice and this wand wouldn’t be more useful than a random stick.”

“I get it,” he said bracingly. “I was disappointed with myself when it didn’t improve the way I wanted—but there is no secret, you just need to keep trying.”

“It is as if I can’t get it right—every spell I try, even when I don’t cast it, I can feel it, the connection between me and my wand. But the Patronus just eludes me.”

“What memory are you using?” Harry asked before he could think it through. He smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I know it’s personal.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not working anyway, so—” Ginny shrugged. “I thought about when I got my Hogwarts letter. I dreamed of it since I was two—” She caught sight of Harry’s face. “What?”

“That’s what I remembered the first time I managed something. It was just this silver shadow, but—”

“But it was a start.” Ginny sighed. “I’m not even hoping for a full corporeal Patronus, just one that gets the dementors far away from me.”

She shivered, her face whitening so much that Harry felt he could count the freckles on her cheek. 

For a moment that distracted him, until a long-distant memory resurfaced. He was thirteen and recovering after meeting a dementor for the first time; he’d just fainted, but the worst part had been hearing a woman’s scream. He hadn’t been in the best condition, so he hadn’t really noticed the small girl quietly sobbing in the corner of the train, looking just as pale as now—he’d never asked what Ginny had heard, but now he got a good idea…

“You had forgotten.” He blinked. Ginny was grimacing. “You are not the only one who hears You-Know-Who when dementors are around.”

“That was not what… I never considered what you would remember.” He bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You saved me. I was the one stupid enough to get involved with a Dark Lord.”

“You were not involved, I mean—you didn’t know who he was.” He met her gaze. “And I am sorry for forgetting what you went through. I guess it was just easier to think everything was all right.”

Harry remembered the final days of that term, when he had watched Ginny closer; after a moment’s struggle, she had looked happy, a bright version of the girl that had slowly shrinked that year. Even her brothers were visibly relieved that Ginny seemed to move on. At some point, Harry had just stopped looking for any distress sign.

Ginny sighed. “I know. That’s how I wanted you to perceive me. Not as the weak girl who couldn’t sleep at night because of her nightmares.”

“You are not weak. Why would I—why would anyone think so?”

“I still dream—”

“Everyone gets nightmares.” He thought about a graveyard, a cruel laugh, and a boy’s dead eyes. “It’s just a reminder that we survived. You survived.”

“Only because you—”

“Because you fought Riddle long enough to give me time to get there. You were eleven.”

“Saying like this makes me look stronger than I was.”

“You were strong. You are strong.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not saying this to excuse myself, but I forgot about you and Voldemort because I can’t see it when I look at you. You went through one of the worst things that any human could experience—I know how I felt just by thinking I was possessed—and yet you are here now, casting every spell, destroying those Death Eater dummies, and getting a reputation for that Bat Bogey Hex that I have yet to witness.”

He felt suddenly self-conscious of his speech, but Ginny was smiling softly now, and Harry just reminded himself that he was the teacher, he could be motivating even if it involved personal stuff. In any case, even her eyes were shining now, warmer; Ginny’s eyes were a nice shade of brown, like treacle tart.

“Let’s find Umbridge,” she suggested at last. “Then you can witness my Bat Bogey Hex, it will be epic.”

Harry chuckled. “I don’t doubt it, but I don’t think you’d want to be expelled.”

“I’d only be if I got caught,” she noted, winking at him. Then Ginny jumped, leaving a soft trace of flowers on the couch. “I’m going to get this.”

She closed her eyes, her expression confident. Harry couldn’t know what she was remembering, but a breeze filled the room, coming out of nowhere, and made Ginny’s hair move as if she was flying. Then Ginny opened her eyes —they were blazing—, flourished her wand and whispered, “Expecto Patronum!”

A silver shadow flew from her wand, dashing around the room before disappearing. It wasn’t shaped yet, but Harry could swear he saw a long snout and a floating mane.

“Yes!” She cried happily, beaming at Harry; for a moment, he thought she was going to hug him — he even opened his arms — but Ginny didn’t move. “It was something!”

“It was a perfect start,” he told her, jumping to his feet. Ginny looked bright now, and he didn’t think it was just an act. “What do you think it will be? Your patronus?”

“No idea. I think it had hooves.” She smirked. “It won’t be a stag, though, I’m hoping to be original here.”

Harry just smiled. “It’s my father. I mean, the stag represents my father. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok.” She nodded, watching him, her expression sober now. “I remembered the first time I took flight on a broomstick.”

“That’s also one of the memories I tried that first time learning the Patronus Charm,” he noted, amused. “I’m glad it worked better for you.”

“Flying made me feel free—and powerful. I think I’m done with Riddle’s voice in my mind.” Ginny paused for a moment, watching Harry, before taking a deep breath. “I was afraid that if I couldn’t cast the Patronus, it meant that, in some way, I wanted to hear him.”

“I get it,” Harry mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes now. “The reason why I got so bad around dementors was because I could hear my parents’ voices, when they were… in their last minutes. And it was the only memory I had, so for a while I hung on to them.” He risked a glance at her. Ginny didn’t look pitiful, so he felt safe enough to give her a small smile.

She shook her head.

“I think you are very generous to compare you missing your parents with my unhealthy relationship with the diary that almost killed me, Harry, but that’s just you.”

“Well, what made me cast the Patronus Charm was that I could not risk us losing another Quidditch match.”

“Priorities.”

“I can tell all the effort paid off in the end.”

“Isn’t it true that you managed to fight off a hundred dementors to save Sirius?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “But I was thinking that Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup that year after all.”

She grinned back. Ginny had dimples when she smiled; she could be as bright as a Patronus, Harry thought suddenly. She’d manage to cast one soon, he just knew.

He was about to tell her this when the door of the room opened. Ginny glanced at the door before taking a step back, her face only slightly flushed as she asked him, as if continuing a different conversation, “How can I help you?”

“Huh?” Harry said, confused. The group of Ravenclaws had just entered, and while they were greeting him, Cho had given him a smile, though somewhat avoiding his gaze.

“The Room,” said Ginny patiently. “You like to get the Room ready before the lesson, and I thought I could be useful—hi, Michael.”

She waved at her boyfriend, and for a moment, it crossed Harry’s mind that there was as much enthusiasm in her voice as in Cho’s smile to him. 

He shook his head. “Mirrors, it might be helpful.”

“I’m on, Professor Potter.”

“Not prat anymore? I see the improvement now.”

“Like I said, you are kind of decent, Harry.” She winked at him, clearly amused, and turned around; as mirrors appeared on the corners of the room, her boyfriend joined her, hands hanging on the inside of the pockets of his robes and just watching her.

I didn’t like him, Ron had said it once, and though Harry didn’t think he’d share this thought with anyone, he couldn't help but agree with Ron.

[airybcby]

Hi and merry Christmas🎄💕 I was wondering if you can write one about Isagi🫐🎂 for the new event! Thank you !!

Hi! I hope you had a good christmas! sorry for taking a while on this :)

an isagi yoichi blueberry birthday :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° just wanna be part of your family

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event

♡ content — isagi yoichi x gn! reader, ex bf! isagi, gn! reader, one-bed trope, isagi's only love is soccer, reader has feelings for isagi, unrequited feelings, some cuddling

♡ synopsis — Living with Isagi Yoichi helped you realize many things; just how much he loved soccer and how helplessly in love you were with him

You never expected to be paired with Isagi Yoichi. Out of all the people in the marriage simulation program, he seemed like the most focused, goal-oriented participant. Quiet but polite, friendly but not overly so—Isagi wasn’t exactly someone you’d call a “relationship type.”

Not that you minded at first. You didn’t really know him, and he didn’t know you. You figured it would just be two strangers coexisting for the duration of the program. But it wasn’t long before you realized how wrong you were.

The first thing you learned about Isagi was that soccer wasn’t just his passion—it was his life.

Every conversation, every thought, every decision seemed to tie back to the sport. Whether he was strategizing over game footage, muttering plays in his sleep, or using metaphors about “field vision” to explain something mundane, soccer was always at the forefront of his mind.

At first, you found it endearing. His drive, his determination—it was admirable. But as the days turned into weeks, you started to notice other things.

The way his hair stuck up in the mornings, messy and endearing. The way he scrunched his nose when he was focused, his brow furrowing in a way that made you want to smooth it out with your thumb. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about soccer, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

It didn’t take long for your admiration to shift into something else. Something more dangerous.

The first night in the apartment, you discovered the program hadn’t exactly prioritized comfort.

“There’s only one bed,” Isagi said, staring at the modest mattress like it had personally offended him.

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “We can share it. It’s just sleeping, right?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “If you’re okay with it.”

And so, with a pillow barrier hastily constructed between you, you both settled into the bed.

It wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Isagi kept to his side, arms rigid at his sides like he was afraid of encroaching on your space. You fell asleep quickly that night, comforted by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

The pillow barrier worked—until it didn’t.

It was a chilly night, colder than the program had prepared for. At some point, you must have both shifted, seeking warmth. When you woke up, you were curled against him, his arm draped loosely over your waist.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. His face was close—so close you could see the way his eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He looked so peaceful, so unlike the intense, focused Isagi you’d grown used to.

You tried to move without waking him, but the shift in weight stirred him. His eyes blinked open, hazy with sleep, and it took him a moment to realize the position you were in.

“Ah—sorry!” he said, pulling back so quickly he nearly fell off the bed. His face was flushed, and you were sure yours was too.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, sitting up and avoiding his gaze. “It’s just... cold, I guess.”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Cold.”

Neither of you mentioned it again, but the memory lingered.

The weeks passed, and you found yourself falling harder.

It was little things—the way he grinned when he successfully cooked something new, the way he always said “thank you” when you helped him with laundry or grocery shopping, the way he always made time to check in with you, even when he was swamped with soccer strategies.

You started to picture what it would be like to stay like this. To come home to him after a long day, to share meals and quiet evenings, to wake up next to him every morning.

It was foolish, you knew that. But you couldn’t help it.

“Do you ever think about what happens after this?” you asked one night, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

Isagi glanced up from his notebook, where he’d been sketching out game plans. “What do you mean?”

“After the simulation,” you clarified. “When it’s over. Do you ever think about... what comes next?”

He paused, tapping his pen against the page. “Not really,” he admitted. “I guess I’m just focused on soccer right now.”

Your chest tightened. “You don’t think about things like... relationships?”

He let out a small laugh. “Not really. I mean, soccer’s everything to me. There’s not much room for anything else.”

The honesty in his words hurt more than anything else could have.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Makes sense.”

You tried to temper your feelings after that. You reminded yourself that Isagi wasn’t the kind of person to do things halfway. Soccer was his dream, and nothing—not even you—could compete with that.

But your heart didn’t listen.

The program ended sooner than you expected.

You packed your things in silence, stealing glances at Isagi as he carefully folded his clothes into his suitcase.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh... just wanted to say thanks,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “For putting up with me during all this.”

“Putting up with you?” you echoed, forcing a laugh. “Yoichi, you’re probably the easiest person to live with.”

He smiled, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it was just for you.

“Still,” he said, his voice softening. “I really appreciate it.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice.

As you walked out of the apartment for the last time, you couldn’t help but glance back.

Isagi was already walking ahead, his focus set on whatever came next.

And you knew, with a painful certainty, that whatever it was, it didn’t include you.

It wasn’t his fault. You couldn’t blame him for chasing his dream, for being the person he was.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

shorter than what i would've liked but writing sad stuff for isagi makes my heart hurt

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[e-dubbc11]

On My Way

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, sexual reference(mostly PG-13), Billy’s violent side shows a little, fluffy ending.

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Told from Billy’s POV. Billy has an assistant that’s a little too flirty and he already has someone very special to him. She threatens to ruin what he’s waited so long for.

A/N: I was perusing Tumblr the other day and found THIS post with the following dialogue prompt…”After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?"

“Next to my wife.”

I want to give credit to @myladyship This prompt basically punched me in the face, I got really excited when I found it so thank you! And thank you Katherine @k-marzolf for the basis of this fic, I appreciate you! I really like the way it turned out so I hope you like it too 💙

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It bothered your love at first; the way your assistant danced around the office in her tight little dresses and short skirts, it was painfully obvious she wanted you to notice her, to flirt back when she flirted with you, and she wanted you to forget all about…her.

But you had no idea how far your assistant, Isabel, would take it to get what she desired.

“THAT’S your assistant, Billy?!” Your love exclaimed as she handed you the cup of coffee she picked up for you on her way to work.

Your lips curled into a shy smile.

“Isabel’s not just MY assistant, baby. She’s all of ANVIL’S assistant but yeah she does do a lot of work for me.” You said.

“She gave me a dirty look when she let me in here, ya know.” She said, pressing her lips together in a straight line. “Has she dropped anything on the floor in front of you so she can bend over and pick it up?”

She was always making you laugh and you thought her jealousy was “cute” so you started to chuckle as you replied, “If she has, I didn’t notice. You’re the only one I wanna see bend over in front of me, sweet girl.”

You pulled her in close, tilted her chin up so she was looking into your eyes, and gave her a kiss so deep that you know she felt a tingle throughout her whole body, all the way down to her toes.

She had called you a “cocky little shit” and said you weren’t playing fair but you knew it was difficult for y/n to resist your charm.

“You’re such a cheater. You never play fair, Mr. Russo.” She purred into your ear and bit down on her lower lip to try and stop herself from smiling.

You loved her so much.

“I know I don’t play fair but I like giving you something to think about while you’re at work. Thank you for my coffee, beautiful. I love you.” You said with a warm smile.

She snaked her arms around the back of your neck, kissed you again and replied, “I love you too, handsome. Have a good day, Billy. I know you have a big job today so be extra careful.”

“Always. Now get outta here so I can slap you on the ass and watch you walk away.” You replied with a wink.

Looking over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed a bright red as she walked out of your office to head to work.

You couldn’t wait to see her later.

**********

The problem with crime bosses was there’s always another one in waiting if the current one falls and they were constantly making deals with shady politicians so it was just a vicious cycle...new boss, new deals.

Cut the head off of the snake and two more take its place.

And no matter how crooked those politicians were, they never got their hands dirty and if they did, they made sure they weren’t caught or they had someone else take the fall for it.

They had the distinct privilege of hiding behind their private security and leaving no paper trail. No matter how many mob bosses you took out, there was always another one to take their place but you always did the job you were hired to do…and you never missed.

But today, they had forced you to get your hands dirty. Whatever deals were made, had turned sour, and blood was spilled on the cold city streets tonight. Y/n would understand but you would have to call her and tell her you were going to be late.

Your assistant was privy to certain information, took notes during meetings, and even saw things she probably shouldn’t have but the NDA she signed when she took the job at ANVIL prevented her from talking about it…to anyone.

She was supposed to just be quiet and do her job. She understood that. But she thought you could be tempted, enticed into doing what she wanted, or blackmailed into cheating on the love of your life.

The sleeves of your crisp white dress shirt were rolled up to your elbows as you tried your best to remove the fresh bloodstains from your suit jacket. Your shirt had large spattering of blood across the front, it couldn’t be saved, but maybe the jacket could.

As you scrubbed the dried blood from your hands, you sensed someone was standing behind you, watching your every move, and waiting for the perfect moment to speak.

“This kind of thing happens more than I thought it would when I took the job, Mr. Russo.” She said in a sly silvery tone, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s the nature of the beast…bound to happen from time to time. You’re here late.” You said as you turned around to face her while you dried your hands.

She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a black and white pinstripe dress shirt. You knew she had been trying to get your attention all day before you and your team left for the job but to no avail.

“I’ve seen and heard a lot of things that go on inside and outside of this office. I know how many people you’ve killed, Mr. Russo. Does your girlfriend know EVERYTHING about what you do for a living? Or does she need someone to tell her?” She asked, seductively rubbing the palm of her hand against her skirt.

An evil smile stretched across your lips as you quickly glanced up at the ceiling then back down to meet her gaze. You knew exactly what she was fishing for so you inched closer to her and angrily asked through clenched teeth, “What are you getting at, Isabel?”

She reached out and gently pulled your tie toward her, she let the fabric run through her long fingers and with a devilish grin, replied, “What I’m saying is…I want you Mr. Russo and if you fuck me nice and hard on your desk right there, I won’t have to tell her about all of the horrible things you do and have done.”

A low guttural growl escaped your lips as you hissed in her ear, “You think she doesn’t know? She knows all about what I do…what I have done and guess what, sweetheart? She loves me anyway and she is the ONLY one that has loved me when I didn’t think anyone ever could.”

Quickly, you grabbed and tightly squeezed her wrist, while her nervous breaths drifted against your skin, and you saw the angry defeated look on her face as she let go of your tie.

“What makes you think I can’t make you disappear too, just like all the others? Hmmm?” You hummed as a wide Cheshire cat smile stretched across your mouth. “Gut you like a fish and then dump your body like the piece of trash you are. They’d NEVER find you.”

She tried to pull her wrist free from your crushing grip but she wasn’t strong enough. You released her and calmly walked over to your desk so you could collect everything you needed for home.

The chilling words you uttered frightened her and you could sense the cold spike of fear radiating off of her body as you intensely watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath which is when you decided to remind her of one very important thing.

“Remember Isabel, that NDA you signed prevents you from telling ANYONE about what happens here. Also…you’re fired.” You said, glaring at her with your mouth tipped up in half a sly smile.

Storming off toward your office door, Isabel stopped, turned and asked sheepishly, “After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?”

That was it.

That was the question you have waited your entire life to be able to answer with confidence.

“Next to my wife.” You replied with conviction and zero hesitation.

A look of surprise suddenly appeared on Isabel’s face. She obviously didn’t know. She never bothered to look at your wedding photo on the desk. A simple gold band dangled from a chain around your neck underneath your dress shirt, not visible to anyone because you didn’t want to wear it on your finger while you were out on a job. However, the tattoo band around your finger was always there and y/n had one to match.

Y/n, your wife, was everything you had ever wanted and needed. In your story, the boundaries between hero and villain were blurred but not to her. You were a hero in her eyes and weren’t cursed to go unloved forever.

Your curt bravado collided refreshingly with her soft strength to work through your pain and haunted memories. She helped to mend the parts of your life that had been fractured by betrayal and little by little, she will continue to heal the visible and the invisible wounds left by the people that were supposed to care for you the most.

Her smile and gentle touches relieved your everyday tension. She washes away all of your daily problems and they drift out to sea as she tenderly scratches your scalp and asks “How was your day, baby?”

No one had ever done that for you before so you weren’t going to let anyone try and take that away from you whether it’s through temptation or anything else.

“Get out and don’t come back. I’ll mail you your things.” You snapped.

She didn’t look back as she hurried out of your office.

**********

The room ceased of sound and movement as you quietly admired the photo on your desk. You smiled as you stared at y/n’s beautiful face, her body tucked perfectly under your arm like she was meant to be there, and her long fingers grazing your tie like Isabel had tried to do earlier.

You never wanted any woman touching your tie again unless it was being touched by your wife. She was the only woman that you would ever let murmur soft sounds to calm you when you had nightmares. She was the only one you opened up to, let see who you truly are, and you never wanted to do anything deliberately to fuck that up.

“Well hey there, handsome. You on your way home?” She said, answering on the first ring.

You paused briefly before answering her.

You thought about how it wasn’t that long ago, you didn’t think it was possible that anyone could love you, that you could allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to love someone else, or even smile just by hearing their voice.

And how you would do anything to protect that love, even if it means doing very bad things.

You were excited to see her and tell her all about what happened today.

“Yes, baby. I’m on my way.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

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[clangenrising]

Month 20 - Leaffall

Prev | First | Next

“I want to come,” Floodstrike said firmly, walking sharply in step with Goldenstar as she went about the final preparations for her meeting with the city cats. She stopped, gave a pained sigh, and looked her apprentice over. His jaw was tightly set, his forepaws sheathing and unsheathing their claws in the grass with excess energy. At least, she noticed, his eyes weren’t raw and red anymore. 

“Floodstrike,” she began carefully. 

“I know,” he interrupted, “this is important and you don’t want me to mess it up but, I promise, I won’t do anything stupid. I just want to be there in case things go wrong.” 

Goldenstar couldn’t help but let out a sympathetic breath through her nose. “I understand,” she said, “I really do, but this meeting took weeks to arrange. I’m only bringing warriors who I can trust to stay cool headed.” 

“You can trust me, Goldenstar,” he begged, leaning in. “Please. I need to be there.” 

Goldenstar took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and then let it out with a huff. “Fine. I’m trusting you.” Opening her eyes, she searched his face for his reaction.

“Thank you!” he deflated slightly with relief. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

“Go eat a meal and tell Oddstripe to make you a portion of traveling herbs,” she said with a twitch of her ear. Floodstrike nodded dutifully and bounded off towards the healer’s den. Goldenstar sighed again. 

After a beat to collect herself, Goldenstar resumed her preparations. She stopped Russetfrond and made sure that there wasn’t anything they hadn’t already discussed that needed her attention before she left. This time he didn’t seem resistant to staying home which was a relief. She honestly couldn’t blame him. If something happened to Bluekit and Yellowkit while he was away, she knew he would never forgive himself. 

Next, she went to check on Aldertail and found her with Oddstripe making the bundles of herbs for the journey. She went over the emergency protocol with Aldertail again, making sure that she knew exactly who to go to if another attack was launched while they were away. Aldertail nodded, seeming reassured by the repetition of the plan, which had been Goldenstar’s intention.

Before she left, Oddstripe asked, “Is it true you agreed to let Floodstrike go along?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, belly clenching nervously. 

“Okay,” Oddstripe nodded and looked down. “Just make sure he comes home safe, alright?” 

“Of course,” said Goldenstar with genuine fervor. “I won’t take a single risk I don’t have to.” 

“Oh, thank you,” the healer sniffled and smiled up at her and she felt her chest tighten. She hoped she would be able to keep her promise. 

When she stepped outside, Scorchplume fell into step beside her and said, “SkyClan is here. Orangestar should be waiting for us at the thunderpath.” 

“Good,” she nodded. “Let's get everyone together and get ready to go.”

“Alright,” Scorch said without looking at her, the picture of a regal advisor. “I’ll fetch Songdust. Why don’t you grab Coyotechaser?” 

“And Floodstrike,” Goldenstar said, bracing herself. 

“What?” Scorch’s regality dissipated like someone smacking a dandelion puff. Keeping her voice low but her tone sharp, she whispered, “No. No way! Goldenstar, we talked about this, we can’t afford any rash behavior!”

“I know, I know, but he swore he would be on his best behavior,” tried Goldenstar.

“So did Fogpaw,” huffed Scorch, “that doesn’t mean she gets to tag along!” 

“We could use the extra muscle,” she argued. 

“At what cost?” Scorchplume lashed her tail, took a deep breath and said, “Look. I love you, Goldie,” (and Goldenstar puffed up with affection, much to Scorch’s annoyance) “but your judgment is impaired here! You’re too soft on him. It isn’t fun but he’s just going to have to suck it up and stay home and you’re going to have to suck it up and tell him so.” It took a good deal of effort for Goldenstar not to squirm under Scorch’s piercing scowl.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” she said firmly, “but the choice has already been made. It’s gonna look bad if I undo my decision because you told me to.” Scorchplume looked askance, ears swiveling backward. Quickly, Goldenstar added, “Besides, I’m trusting Floodstrike and I’m asking you to trust me. I don’t want to make you feel like I cornered you into going along with this or anything.” She gently laid her tail over Scorch’s, hoping that she hadn’t just accidentally threatened her kind-of-sort-of-partner.

Scorch was still for a moment, likely processing something behind her mask. Then she said, “It’s fine, you couldn’t corner me if you tried.” Goldenstar chuckled a little and wrapped her tail more tightly around Scorch’s. 

“That’s good. I promise that if he does anything out of line I’ll send him home.”

“You’d better,” Scorch said, looking up at her. “We probably won’t get a second chance at this.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar said with the appropriate solemnity. “I won’t let this opportunity slip through our claws.” 

Scorch sighed, nodded, and bumped her head against Goldenstar’s forehead. “Alright.” 

“Goldenstar!” Coyotechaser called over from where she was standing with Greyvoice and Couragecry who were scheduled to join a border patrol. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Just about!” she called back, “We’ll grab our traveling herbs and head out.” 

~~~

After meeting up with Orangestar, the group - Goldenstar, Scorchplume, Songdust, Floodstrike, and Coyotechaser - crossed the thunderpath and headed for the city. The afternoon stretched into evening and as they approached, Goldenstar watched in wonder as the city lights came to life one by one. 

“Remember,” Scorchplume told them as they walked, “When we get to the meeting, I’ll do the speaking for all of us. If you have something you want said, let me know and I’ll phrase it in a way that the city cats will respond favorably to.” 

“Right,” Coyotechaser said cautiously. 

“Also,” Goldenstar said, “As far as the city cats know, I’m the leader of all the Clans. At this point, we think it's best to leave it that way. The less they actually know about us, the better. While we’re in the city, you and Orangestar are my advisors, just like Scorchplume.” 

“I can see the reason in that,” admitted the SkyClan deputy. 

“In that case,” said Orangestar, “it might be good to avoid calling me Orangestar, just in case.” 

“That’s smart,” said Goldenstar, smiling fondly at her friend. “Guess you’ll be Orangeleaf again for a while.”

“Guess so,” laughed Orangestar bashfully. 

They padded along for a while longer before they reached the large gravel path that led into the city. Goldenstar led them along the edge of it, trying to steady her nerves. This was where things got dangerous. The plan relied on them drawing as little attention to themselves as possible and the closer they got, the more likely it was that they would be seen and possibly attacked. 

Her fears were realized when they spotted a small cluster of cats loitering across the gravel from them, just little ginger and white and grey smudges in the fading light. Coyotechaser growled a low warning to the others, tail bristling, and Goldenstar held her tail out behind her to try and settle the group.

“Easy,” she said. 

The group of cat shapes up ahead stood and started loping back to the city and Floodstrike lunged after them before Goldenstar had a chance to say anything. Quickly, Songdust hooked a paw out in front of him, tumbling him forward. He caught himself before hitting the gravel and turned back to glare at her. 

“Floodstrike!” Goldenstar hissed so that the city cats wouldn’t be able to hear. “What are you doing?” 

“They’re going to get reinforcements!” he cried indignantly. 

“Or,” Scorchplume cut in sharply, “they’re with Rudy and attacking them would have ruined the entire meeting!” Orangestar glanced from Scorch to Goldenstar with worry and Coyotechaser squinted inscrutably at Floodstrike. Songdust just looked pitying. Under all these gazes, Floodstrike’s big ears wilted behind him and he pressed his mouth into a thin line. 

“I’m sorry, Goldenstar,” he said, “I- I thought I was helping.” 

“I know,” she sighed, avoiding the pointed look that Scorch was giving her. “Let’s keep going. We don’t have time to waste out in the open.” She ducked her head and started going, knowing that a number of unpleasant conversations were going to be had eventually.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to Luna’s garden. The little lilac kittypet was waiting for them on top of the fence and smiled in greeting, ushering them over the fence with her tail. 

“Welcome! Welcome!” she purred, blushing when she made eye contact with Floodstrike. “Schmidt should be here soon, you can wait under the bench by the hydrangeas.” 

“Thank you,” Goldenstar thanked her and hopped the fence with a quick bound. 

When her paws hit the ground, Scorchplume was right behind her, saying softly, “I told you not to bring him.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar whispered back. “I’ll handle it.” 

“Good,” huffed Scorch. She led the way to the bench, which was good since Goldenstar had no idea what a bench was in the first place, and the other cats followed, clustering underneath the odd wooden structure with their backs against the wilting hydrangea blossoms. 

“You trust this Schmidt cat?” Coyotechaser asked.

“I do,” Goldenstar nodded. 

“He kept me safe while I was in the city,” said Songdust. “He’s a good cat, if a bit idealistic.” 

“That’s good,” mewed Orangestar. 

Goldenstar glanced past her to where Floodstrike was sitting, tail curled around his paws and she swallowed in shame when he met her gaze a second later. He could tell he was in trouble and they were both miserable about it. She quickly averted her gaze and tried to go over the meeting points in her mind. 

A short time later, two cats crested the fence and followed Luna over to the bench. The first cat was Schmidt, a kind smile on his face as he approached, and the second was a cat who looked exactly like him but with a slightly brighter tint to his ginger fur, much like Orangestar. The second cat followed closely behind Schmidt. His eyes wandered the yard for any sign of danger but his face bore a politely empty expression rather than a threatening or anxious one. Goldenstar stepped out from under the bench to meet them and the others followed suit.

“Evenin’, Goldenstar,” said Schimdt with a well mannered dip of the head. “This is my brother, Westen. He insisted on comin’ to watch my back.” At his introduction, Westen dipped his head in kind and briefly flashed a smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Westen,” Goldenstar said.

“Please, ma’am, call me Wes,” said Wes with a twang and a humble smile. Goldenstar couldn’t help but smile herself. 

“Of course,” she said. Then, back to Schimdt, “Is everything ready for the meeting?” 

“As ready as it’ll ever be,” Schimdt said with a nervous huff. “We’ll be meetin’ on a friend’s balcony at sundown. We prolly ought to head over there now though. Don’t wanna get caught like a squirrel in a bottle.” Goldenstar nodded instead of asking what a bottle or a balcony was. 

“Right, let’s get going then,” she said. 

Scorchplume cleared her throat, looking strained. 

Goldenstar frowned. “Right. Floodstrike, I’m going to need you to stay here.” 

“Goldenstar, please!” Floodstrike protested. “It was one mistake, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You already promised me and you broke your promise,” Goldenstar said. “I’m sorry. Stay here with Luna. If something goes wrong we’ll have someone send you for help.” 

Floodstrike opened his mouth to protest then closed it with a soft clack. Looking down, he sighed, “Alright.” Goldenstar smiled, bittersweet. She was proud, at least, that he hadn’t tried to keep arguing.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said, and Schmidt nodded and turned to lead the way. 

On the edge of her hearing, Goldenstar caught Wes whispering to Luna, “Miss Luna, will you be alright on your own with this fella?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Wes,” Luna purred, “We get on peachy.” Then she laughed like she’d told a joke. 

This seemed enough to put Wes at ease and he said simply, “Alright then. Don’t forget to fetch your Folk if you need anythin',” before slinking back into place behind Schmidt’s right shoulder. Goldenstar chuckled a bit and hung back to speak with Floodstrike. 

“Hey,” she said softly and he looked up with big, guilty eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up so bad you forget to enjoy yourself, ‘kay?” 

“W-” Floodstrike frowned then glanced past her to Luna before blushing with understanding. “Oh. That’s- I’m not-”

“It’s alright,” Goldenstar laughed a little. “Whatever happens, it’ll be alright as long as you feel comfortable. Don’t forget to stand up for yourself.” 

“Alright,” he swallowed dryly. 

With that, Goldenstar bounded to catch up before anyone could call for her and the group hopped the fence and darted across the thunderpath towards the meeting place.