#youre my first ask outside of shadowban

[ryssbelle]

Hey I just got a notif from you for the first time in a while! I hope this means you're not shadowbanned anymore cause i saw you were dealing with that for a while and it seemed like it sucked. Hopefully everything is working!

YEAH! I noticed a few hours ago and literally cried, I'm so happy I'm not shadowbanned anymore it was awful!

Thank you for checking in!! I'm hoping to start posting more now that people are actually able to see me! I had wanted to but I figured there wasnt much of a point but now we're back in business!!

[misswynters]

Winter’s Embrace — Chapter One

Cregan Stark x targaryen fem!reader

[synopsis: You arrive at winterfell, you feel unwelcomed and like an outsider. You weren’t used to not customs of the north.

[a/n: i know, it’s always a targaryen princess switch it up! (pls this is my first time ever writing) and there’s barely any cregan x readers.

[word count: 2.5k?

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

next chapter |

Winterfell loomed on the horizon, its grey stone walls blending seamlessly with the winter landscape. As your carriage approached the gates, you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cold but from the uncertainty of what awaited you within those ancient walls. The North was a world away from the warm sands and fiery skies of King's Landing, where you had spent most of your life. Here, you were not just a stranger but a princess—a dragon in a land of wolves.

The carriage came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. The door opened, and a gust of icy wind greeted you. Wrapping your cloak tightly around your shoulders, you stepped out into the courtyard, your breath visible in the frigid air. The guards watched you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, their eyes lingering a bit too long.

Cregan Stark, who’s the Warden of the North, stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, his imposing figure framed by the heavy wooden doors. He was a tall man with dark hair and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see straight through you. As you approached, he stepped forward, his expression one of polite interest.

“Princess,” he greeted you, his voice deep and resonant. ��Welcome to Winterfell.”

"Thank you, Lord Stark" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I greatly appreciate your hospitality."

He nodded, his gaze not wavering. "I hope you find Winterfell to your liking, though I fear it may not be as comfortable as the South."

You forced a smile. "I am sure it will be an adjustment, but nevertheless i will get used to it"

The Great Hall was bustling with activity as servants hurried about, preparing for the evening meal. The warmth of the fire was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, but it did little to dispel the feeling of being an outsider. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the whispered conversations that fell silent as you passed.

Cregan led you to your chambers, a modest but well-appointed room with a large bed and a roaring fire. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he said, his tone formal.

"Thank you, My lord," you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he simply nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The days that followed were a blur of introductions and attempts to settle into a routine. The people of Winterfell were polite but distant, their mistrust evident in their eyes. You tried to make yourself useful, helping where you could, but it seemed that no matter what you did, you were always viewed as an dragon in a wolves den.

Cregan was kind but distant, his duties keeping him busy. He checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable, but there was an unspoken tension between you. You sensed that he believed you were ill-suited for the harsh realities of the North, a delicate flower from the South who would wilt in the cold.

One evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, lost in thought, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” you called, expecting one of the servants.

To your surprise, it was Cregan. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I hope I am not disturbing you," he said.

"Not at all," you replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, join me."

He took a seat opposite you, the firelight casting shadows on his chiseled features. "I wanted to see how you are adjusting," he said. "I know this must be difficult for you.

You sighed, staring into the flames. "It is. But I am trying to accustomed to the way everything is done here."

He nodded, his gaze intense. "You are stronger than you appear, Princess. I see that."

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you, Lord Stark. That means a lot."

For a moment, there was a silence between you, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Then, Cregan spoke again, his voice softer. "I understand that you are a dragon dreamer."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was not something you spoke of often, the gift—or curse—that you carried. "Yes," you admitted. "I have dreams of dragons and the future."

He leaned forward, his eyes searching yours. "Do you trust your dreams?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "I do. They have never led me astray."

Cregan seemed to consider this, then leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, in time, you will find your place here. The North is a harsh land, but it can also be a place of great beauty and strength."

You smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I hope so, Lord Stark. I truly do."

As the days passed, you began to find small ways to integrate yourself into the life of Winterfell. You helped in the kitchens, learning the recipes and customs of the North. You spent time with the children, telling them stories of dragons and far-off lands. Slowly, the walls began to come down, and you felt a sense of belonging start to take root.

Cregan was a constant presence, his support and encouragement a source of strength. He seemed to understand the struggle you faced, the weight of expectations and the challenge of finding your place in a world that was not your own. There were moments when you caught glimpses of the man beneath the lord—the kindness in his eyes, the warmth of his smile.

One day, as you were walking through the courtyard, a group of women approached you. Their leader, an older woman with a stern expression, looked you up and down. "Princess," she said, her tone respectful but cold. "We have heard much about you."

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. "I hope it has been good."

The woman shrugged. "Some good, some not. But actions speak louder than words. We will see what kind of woman you truly are."

You smiled, determined to prove yourself. "I hope I can earn your respect."

Cregan watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride as he saw you stand your ground. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, but he had no doubt that you were strong enough to walk it.

One night, as the storm raged outside, you found yourself unable to sleep. The dreams had been coming more frequently, visions of dragons and fire, of a future shrouded in darkness. You threw on a cloak and made your way to the Great Hall, seeking solace in the warmth of the fire.

To your surprise, Cregan was there, staring into the flames. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

You shook your head, joining him by the hearth. "No. The dreams..."

He nodded, understanding. "Tell me about them."

You hesitated, then began to speak, the words flowing out of you like a river. You told him of the dragons, of the visions of a future both beautiful and terrifying. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Those are just visions, what matters is how you act upon them and not let them get to your head” he said in a soft tone.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Cregan."

He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "You are stronger than you know, Princess. And I am proud to stand by your side."

The days turned into weeks, and the snow outside showed no signs of abating. Within Winterfell, you began to find your place. You helped in the kitchens, worked alongside the maids, and even joined the training sessions in the yard. Slowly, the people began to see you not as an outsider, but as someone willing to share their burdens.

Cregan watched with growing admiration. One evening, as you sat by the hearth, he joined you, his presence a comfort in the cold.

"You've done well," he said, his voice warm.

You looked up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Thank you. It hasn't been easy."

He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. "Nothing worth having ever is."

The thaw began slowly, both outside and within the hearts of Winterfell's people. The Northmen, once so wary, started to see you in a different light. Your actions, your kindness, and your determination had begun to win them over.

One day, as you helped prepare for a feast, one of the older women approached you. "You've done well, lass," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "You've proven yourself."

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "I’m glad i was able to prove myself." Cregan, watching from across the room, felt a surge of pride.

[yuyusuyu]

anatomy of a hug!

pairing. non idol! best friend! jeong yunho x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. hugging yunho always leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy in the inside, even if you're standing outside while it snows

warnings. a kiss, a pet name being used (tiny act surprised LMFAO), reader is shorter than yunho (act surprised again)

genres. fluff, best friends to lovers, non idol au

rating. sfw

wc. 0.9k

a/n. my first yunho post ever ?! as a hotteok ?! also this is NAWT proofread 😓

reblogs and comments are appreciated as it helps with not getting shadowbanned!

THE first snowfall of the year happens while you’re in the library with a group of friends; you sit near the window at the far end of the table, giggling quietly while your best friend nudges your legs from underneath and across from you. you shoot him a glare, mouthing a threat at him to which he grins at you brightly, sticking his tongue out at you. your friends start leaving one by one with a quick hug before they’re out the doors, eventually leaving you and yunho alone.

“the library will be closing in ten minutes,” yunho mumbles as he checks the time on his watch. “we should get going now.”

“it’s that late already?” you ask, peering up from your textbook to find yunho already looking at you. embarrassed, you hurriedly pack your things. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?” he hums, a teasing tone in his voice. yunho packs his things and grabs your bag when he sees that you’re done, slinging it over his shoulder along with his own. with his free hand, he grabs your smaller one and intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of the library.

“don’t play dumb with me,” you huff, smacking his chest with your other arm. yunho laughs loudly, throwing his head back while he swings your hands. “yun, it’s snowing harder.”

“looks like we can play it now,” he grins, his eyes twinkling. your protest dies on the tip of your tongue, your head feeling fuzzy instead at how your heart swells with so much love towards the tall male, seeing his face light up and his lips quirking upwards to form a dazzling smile as he giggles, so you let yourself get dragged around in the chilling cold that bites at your nose and exposed skin.

you snap out of your daze, finding yourself off to the side of the path that leads over to the nearest cafeteria on campus. yunho hums, smiling brightly when he looks down at you, cheeks flushed a pretty pink color and his hair coated in snowflakes. standing on your tiptoes, you grab his shoulder with one hand do your best to brush the snowflakes from his hair. he leans down so that you can reach better and looks at you intently, his gaze burning into you that it makes you feel nervous, too shy to look at him when you pull back and stand properly. this only makes him smile wider, suddenly bringing a finger up to your cheek and caressing the skin before pulling you close to him, brushing his lips against yours. your eyes flutter closed, savoring the short-lived kiss while your hands tremble against his shoulders.

“you are so cute,” he giggles, pulling away just enough to rub his nose with yours, resting his forehead against your own afterwards, “my cute girl.”

you pout, “jeong yunho, at this point everyone’s going to catch on.”

“well, it’s only a matter of time before we make it official,” he shrugs, his smile turning into a teasing one. yunho pulls away and you feel cold momentarily, letting out a sigh of relief when he hugs you. you feel the vibrations from his chest against your ear when he laughs happily at your comment (you tell him to hurry it up and make things official between you two), you feel a hand rest on your waist while the other one is on the back of your head, trying to press you impossibly closer to his body that radiates warmth in the frosty, cold air of winter. you grip onto the back of his long coat, pushing yourself against him almost if you want to— “what are you doing, tiny?” he chuckles, rubbing the back of your head. “are you trying to melt into me or something?”

you mumble that you are and close your eyes, wondering if what you’re hearing is the sound of his heart or your own. you can’t make out the difference really, but you warm up at the thought that maybe your hearts are beating at the same pace.

“you’re my favorite person, you know?” yunho tightens his hold around your waist, giving it a brief squeeze.

“i know,” you laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “you’re my favorite person, too.” with a lovesick expression that takes over his features, you look away and hide your face into his chest, hearing his heart start beating faster… or maybe it’s your heart? you genuinely can’t tell. the only thing you can tell is that your heart always aches, always yearns to be next to yunho. you wonder if he feels the same.

it’s like the brunette knows what you’re talking about when he hugs you closer to him, if that’s even possible, and murmurs something that leaves you feeling giddy.

“how about making things official now?”

while you did say yes to being yunho’s girlfriend, you two also ended up catching a cold from standing outside in the snow just to hug each other. and then yunho brought it upon himself to show up at your apartment with a blanket wrapped around him, a bag filled with warm takeout that you should definitely not be eating but how can you say no to yunho?, claiming that his duty as your boyfriend is to be sick with you.

and they say chivalry is dead! you two got sicker but hey! it’s the thought that counts!

perma taglist. @asjkdk @kodzukein @hrt4jeno @jeonride @lissiesykes @satsuri3su @atinytownclown @sanhwaism @ad0rechuu

wip taglist. @nnnarchives

[selfshipdatabase]

🌹Selfship Database Introduction!! 🌹

Hello, everyone! Inspired by other blogs such as selfshippersfromthissource and there being blogs with this kind of gimmick in the past, I wanted to try my hand at this—making a carrd that functions as a database sorted by source/fandom. While it can function as a way to find selfshippers in the same source or just wanting to see if someone ships from a certain source, I’d also like to see which sources are the most common within selfshippers!

Please reply/reblog/send an ask if you would like to be included! I will not include anyone who does not give me this kind of confirmation.  And below read more will be some ground rules going forth for this blog :-) of course, things can change as this database evolves, but these are the guidelines I am currently following!

1- While I understand this can and will impact results, I ask that those will label themselves as proshippers dni for my own personal comfort. i have no desire to entertain or be neutral toward incest, rape, pedophilia, whatever on my own blog. i have no desire to entertain people shipping with minors while they’re adults, rapists, fascists, pedohpiles, etc. While I try to stay in the know, I cannot simply know everything, so I will always assume 100% good faith unless I have proof otherwise. I can remove people from the database. However, outside of these reasons, unless you personally request to be taken off, I won’t ever remove anyone.

2- I will also refrain from including the following sources on my blog/database— countryhumans, hetalia, attack on titan, your boyfriend/boyfriend to death, the coffin of andy and leyley, degrees of lewdity, harry potter. Other than whatever is listed and anything that may apply to the first one, everything else is on the table. Whatever’s listed can be changed, but I would rather not blacklist a lot.

3- As there are some things that I won’t include and there’s some boundaries in place, I understand fully this won’t be a fully unbiased/100% accurate database. While I would like to see the data and to combine my interest in this kind of subject with selfshipping, this is purely for fun and a side project for me. Please do not use my blog as some kind of factual source (I mean, it’s a tumblr blog, so no matter… it’s not one lol) and please keep things lighthearted.

4- A source/fandom will be listed whenever there's two selfshippers for that source. Exceptions may apply if certain sources/fandoms are requested. Though, I won’t accept every request if there’s not enough selfshippers for a source.

5- For simplicity and not overworking myself, for this database, I will only include romantic and queerplatonic f/os. Queerplatonic f/os will be noted as such with (QP) by the character's name. If you want to he included, all I ask is there to be a public f/o list somewhere accessible on your blog. You don’t have to send it to me as long as it’s linked somewhere easy to find on your blog.

6- For the time being, some media will be lumped together, examples being Marvel, DC, Disney, Slashers, Tim Burton, etc. Some may be given their own section if there’s a notable amount of selfshippers for a certain media in that category and/or by request potentially.

7- For any updates to people’s f/o lists, I will try to schedule times where I personally look through them again and make any changes to keep the database current. It’s not required at all, but any heads ups would be appreciated! 

8- Anonymous is turned off for asks for my own comfort. If you send an ask that you don’t want answered or would like to have your url cropped out of, please include it SOMEWHERE in your ask, either at the end or beginning will work. Also, currently, messages are turned off. They may be turned on in the future if need be. Unfortunately, I cannot see shadowbanned blogs. Please be aware!

9- Please note that I am one person. I am also a selfshipper, a non-sharing one at that, but I am hoping to be able to push through if that ever comes up in order to make this database. There may be days where I’m not active on this blog or answering asks. Please be patient with me!! If I ever decide to step away from this project, I will make a clear post that states that exactly.

10- Now, as I am dealing with a large part of the community, I understand the risks that could occur with something like this. If something bad was to ever occur from this database (drama in general, me dealing with any strong negativity), depending on the severity, I will shut down this project. Especially if others are harassed for something. I do not tolerate harassment at all.

I may add more or remove some aspects in the future. For now, the carrd will be public with the sources in alphabetic order. Then, the urls and characters said selfshipper ships with will be in each section. Suggestions are welcomed for things I could add or change! Though, I may be picky with what suggestions I take to stay on task for this database.

[thisismeracing]

An avid learner | MS47

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.9k ― Warnings: not proofread; mentions of food and alcohol; graphic description of sex; oral sex (fem receiving); p in v; +18 (minors DNI); ― Summary: Mick has been nothing but an attentive lover since they started dating, what Yn didn’t know was that he would be even more attentive in bed. It’s their first time having sex, and Mick is an eager learner, he’s set to make sure Yn forgets she ever dated someone before him. ― A/n: Every piece I write here it’s a new experience, so your feedback, comments, and asks are more than welcome. *mwah* 🤍 (I listened to Pink + White by Frank Ocean while writing it, so feel free to listen to it while reading ;))

Based on this request.

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)

⁕ I had a glitch on my account (got shadowbanned) so I'm reposting this piece <3

“Yeah, and what else?” Mick mumbled, eyes squishy due to the sun, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He was listening to Yn’s rant about how potatoes were the best vegetable and bananas the best fruit, along with her arguments she listed that they were both really versatile and easy to fit into any recipe. Mick and Yn were together for two shy months, and he loved to listen to her and discover more about her when they were together, either her random rants or personal info, everything was a good subject for him. 

Today their conversation has had several topics, from color to airplanes, wine, and, finally, food. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining high in the sky, and the weather was good enough for only one thin coat. They were even sitting on the outside tables of the cafe. A wine bottle, probably their second,  and two wine glasses stand on the table, along with a charcuterie board. 

“Huh?” Yn asked after losing herself in Mick’s features. He was sitting by her side, one of his arms draped in the back of her chair, one hand drawing spontaneous patterns on the exposed skin of her shoulders, and the other busy with his wine glass.

They were inside their own world. Anyone that passed by would notice. 

“I don’t know,” Mick confessed after he too lost himself staring at her plump lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Yn blinked at him. 

Mick smiled giving her the perfect display of his dimples and red cheeks, “You don’t even have to ask.”

And his lips are on hers in the blink of an eye. There’s a flutter on her stomach, and Yn feels lucky she’s sitting otherwise her knees would give out. She almost meowls when Mick brings her closer by her neck, his big hands covering her skin for the chilly wind, and deepens the kiss. It was not usual for them to kiss in public like this, they were usually pretty reserved when the topic was PDA, but right now it seemed as if the wine loosened them a bit. His lips were frantic against hers, the taste of her lip gloss along with the wine took a low grunt out of Mick’s throat. 

When he withdraws there’s a small smile on his face.

They latch on to yet another subject to talk about, and when they decide to Uber home, the sun is not so high in the sky anymore. In fact, the sun is almost setting in the sky. They snuggled in the backseat of the car, talking in a low voice, inside their own bubble again, and they keep it as they get inside Mick’s house. Yn bends down to pet Angie who’s excitedly waggling her tails and barking for attention, and Mick walks for his Vinyl after taking off his coat. 

“You wanna keep drinking?” the blonde asked pointing to the kitchen and Yn nodded, still playing with Angie. He took his time screwing the wine, and getting two water bottles from the refrigerator, so when Yn walked in he pushed one in her direction. “Gotta drink some water and eat something if we’re gonna keep the alcohol coming,” he explained, and she stood on her tiptoes to peck his lips.

After a quick snack pause full o giggles and lots of talking, Mick and Yn made the path to his room. Yn had the glass they were sharing in her hand, while Mick held the wine bottle, a grin on his face watching her so carefree and happy.

“I got Frank’s vinyl, he’s your favorite, right?” Yn told Mick that Frank Ocean was one of her favorite singers when they talked about music, and though the conversation happened during their first dates before the girlfriend and boyfriend title came, Mick remembered. He was attentive to the details, especially because each small one made up who Yn was. 

Yn held her breath when the first accords to Nike started playing, “Mick, I can’t believe it!” she squealed running closer to the vinyl and leaning on his side. Mick turned his head to watch her eyes glow just like her smile. “You remembered,” she whispered.

“Of course, I did, babe.” 

The song filled the room, and they enjoyed the atmosphere from Mick’s rug, half sitting, half lying down. His back was propped against the bed, his legs stretched, while Yn was sitting cross-legged beside him. She would sip the wine, pass it for him, lie on his shoulders or chest, then sit back up and repeat the action. They did it in silence for about three songs, until her favorite started playing and Yn jumped from the comfort of her boyfriend’s chest. 

“It’s pink and white!! C’mon, get up, let’s dance,” Yn gushed, and Mick couldn’t do anything but leave the glass on the rug and follow. 

That’s the way every day goes, every time we’ve no control if the sky is pink and white, if the ground is black and yellow, Frank sang, and Yn laced her arms around Mick’s neck, slowly swaying around. 

The blonde smiled, dropping his head to the curve of Yn’s neck, and closing his eyes to enjoy the way his girlfriend was humming to the song and running her nails on his scalp. Mick left warm kisses on Yn’s skin and she felt the goosebumps rise. 

“This is nice,” she whispered when she felt his kiss turn into a smile on her skin. 

Mick hummed back an answer then withdrew just enough to stand face to face with her. His eyes roamed around her face and stopped on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Mick purposely repeated Yn’s words from earlier and she smiled, before sealing their lips together. Their bodies pressed against each other almost like their own way of caressing. Yn could feel the pumping of Mick’s heart, the beat of the song, and her own blood rushing through her body. It felt like the best symphony she’s ever heard. 

When Yn broke the kiss to drag some air into her lungs, Mick curled his arm around her waist and trailed kisses from her jaw back to her lips. She gave his hungry tongue the perfect opening and moaned when he squeezed her ass lightly. They backed up until their bodies crashed on the bed, Yn on top, Mick under her. 

His hands found purchase on her waist, and Yn whimpered when she bent down to reach his lips again and her clothed pussy dragged over Mick’s crotch. He swallowed her noises in a frantic kiss, up until she did the movement again and he was the one grunting. 

“You like it?” Mick asked against her lips, eyes open attentively watching Yn bite her lips on top of him. She nodded, her eyes were still closed as if trying to make the sensation last just a bit longer, and he smiled, using his hands on her waist to drag her body against his, guiding the movements at first, but giving her the reigns once she seemed to come back from the momentary bliss. 

Mick bites his own lips holding back some of the profanities that would go through them, while watching Yn change the movements to circles, getting just the perfect angle. He watched as she threw her head back, he detected how her nipples were hard against her thin blouse, and Mick witnessed a particularly loud moan leave her when he pinched them between his pointer and forefinger, rolling the bud and sitting up just enough to help her discard the piece of clothing somewhere around the room. He took his time admiring her naked top right in front of him, before sucking one of her breasts and massaging the other. 

Mick watched how her body would react and how her voice would change with each movement. He thrived with the knowledge that tentatively biting her nipples would turn her grinding into frantic thrusts against his hard dick. 

When half of their clothes were discarded in the room, Mick switched positions, lying on top of Yn. His hands roamed around her body, discovering just how she liked to be touched, how he could pleasure her, and how her body answered to his stimulus. 

“There! Yes, right there, Mick,” she pants once Mick’s fingers found her pussy, pressing her clit just right. He smiled, following her voiced directions, but also her silent commands, such as the way her hips followed his hands looking for relief. 

With a quick movement, Schumacher kneels bringing Yn’s body to the edge of the bed, and pushes her legs apart, each thigh on one side of his large shoulders, his face right in front of her pussy. 

Mick spread her lips and dived in, lapping her pussy entrance and taking turns to suck her clit, he did it all with his big blues eyes open, reading every response Yn let out. His focused face did it for her because the moment Yn opened her eyes to look at Mick having the time of his life between her legs all while looking for clues on how to make her feel good, she couldn’t help but buckle her hips upward searching for more, and extend her hands to caress his hair. 

He made figures eight and flickered his tongue, messily lapped, fingered, and made out with her pussy like it was the best thing he was ever granted. 

“Do you like it when I do this?” Mick asked, using her body’s natural lube to insert two fingers and curl them against her walls. Yn moaned his name in prayer, and he smiled, doing it again and again, until her legs started to close around his head in an attempt to reach her high faster, but also hold back his fingers. This time Yn felt his smile against her thighs, and she couldn’t help but let out one last whimper and shudder, body limp falling onto the bed. 

Schumacher guided her through her climax, and Yn kept one hand on his hair, lazily massaging his scalp while he took his time kissing his way up her body. 

“How do you wanna do this, Schatzi?” Mick questioned already reaching for his nightstand and tearing a condom package open. 

“Can you stay on top? I’m spent after this first orgasm, and the wine,” she confessed, and he smirked, bending down to peck her lips before resting between her legs.

He grind his shaft on her entrance, gathering just enough of her juices to help him slid in. He does it cautiously, observing the way her face contracts with each inch inside until he finally bottomed. Yn laces her legs around his waist, giving him the perfect opening. Mick lets out one shaky breath before sensually thrusting, their hips snap against each other, and Yn choked when his pubic bone grazed her clit. 

Mick grinds his hips against hers and goes for one, two, three thrusts before snapping his hips in a faster movement. He watches as her tits bounce, and her eyes close, and he bends down to her ear tugging on her earlobe with his teeth, and whispering “I can do whatever you want me to, love.” 

Yn cries out in pleasure and snaps her hips up finding his strokes midway, grinding her clit against him, playing with her nipples, and it’s a series of these moments. There were hard, long, deep thrusts, stares, kisses, and whispers before they came apart together. Happy to learn so much about the other’s body. Happy to give and receive so much pleasure. Happy to be the other’s choice. 

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @chaoticevilbakugo @smiithys @shhhchriss

If you liked this piece make sure to reblog or leave me an ask and follow me ❤️

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🏎️ Help me fill up and get to the finish line (write more) 🏎️

[daydreamerbunny]

Rumor Has It [ Jake Sully x human female!reader ]

Genre: Smut

Summary: You have a thing for Jake's avatar and Jake finds that out and decides to indulge you on it.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: size difference, biting, reader calls Jake 'sir', and stomach bulging.

Author's note: We are trying this again LOL this is like my millionth time posting this since my account was shadowbanned (realized this is probably the incorrect word for it...my account is fixed I should say). I wrote this back in January. Please reblog if you enjoyed it'll help me out TONS. anyways, sexy 8'11" blue cat man time. Cross posted on my AO3.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was an early morning at the base and there were only a few humans roaming around, drinking their mugs of coffee.  You approached the large door that would lead out to the Avatar training field and slip on the oxygen mask, snapping it into place and letting the oxygen fill your nostrils.  You liked to make out to the avatars before the rest of the crew did for, as creepy as it sounds, to observe the avatars.  It did not help the rumors that were already circling about you amongst your peers.  You roll your eyes as you punch in the code to unlock and open the door so you could enter Pandora.

Little did you know that Jake Sully was also having an early morning cup of coffee and saw you take off into a light jog to the large wooden barracks where his avatar was currently resting.  No one else was out there yet and wouldn’t be for another hour and a half.  He downed his last gulp of coffee before wheeling over to his pod to transfer to his avatar form to investigate what you were doing.

Once you reach the barracks you take out your stethoscope and approach the first avatar, placing it on the large wrist.  A strong, but calm pulse was heard and you smiled softly.  It would be rare for an avatar to pass while not inhabited, but you liked to check anyways.  You gently turn the hand to its original position before moving to Jake Sully’s avatar.  You had always thought Jake’s avatar was just breathtaking, but now seeing it outside of incubation and into the land of Pandora is a whole new feeling.

You take a seat on the large bed near Jake’s torso and lean over to run two fingers over the bridge of his nose, feeling the smooth skin.  You turned your hand to graze your knuckles lightly over his cheekbones and sigh as you felt your heart skip a beat.  You quit admiring and move your stethoscope to his wrist, listening to the pulse.  It was a tad faster than a normal sleeping pulse and you furrowed your eyebrows at the discovery.  You look back up to Jake’s face to see his big yellow-green eyes staring at you.  

“Oh my god!” You scream and fall backwards onto the ground as well as your stethoscope.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jake tried to hide the amusement in his voice but it failed.  “I was just wondering what you were doing out here so early and by yourself.”

The shock was starting to wear off, but now you were thoroughly embarrassed.  “Were you awake?  That entire time?” You asked with a blush.

“Yes.” He sat up and flicked his tail, placing his hands on the bed while staring at you.  “You have soft hands.”

Your face heats up some more and you place your hands over your mask, unable to look at him.  Jake tilted his head at your behavior and leaned forward, grabbing your forearms to slowly pry them away.  Your face was flushed as he pulled you to your feet.  At this height with him sitting down you could only reach his shoulders, but with him leaning down you were face to face.  His big eyes studied your face and your body.  Your chest was heaving slightly due to your panting and your legs were squeezing together.

“Hey, relax or you’re going to pass out on me.” Jake rubbed your shoulders with a soft smile causing his fangs to poke out.

You realized your knees were locked and your muscles were tight.  You nodded a little and dropped your shoulders.  You took in longer breaths as you looked at Jake.  You internally groaned and mentally prayed it would not come out physically.  He was intoxicating this close up.  You bit your lip which caused Jake’s head to tilt again.  Oh shit, you just totally gave yourself away.

“So it is true what they say about you.” Jake’s voice lowered as he spoke, “that you prefer the company of the avatars than the people who inhabit them.” He said that with confidence and a shit-eating grin.

“They say that about me?” You asked.  It piqued your interest, but mainly that it was coming from Jake.

“They do, sweetheart.”  His large fingers move down your shoulder and hold your small hand in his. “You know what else they say?”

“What?” You breathed out.

“That you like to be fucked by ‘em.”  Jake whispered.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach and you blushed again.  You try to pull your hands away from him, but he pulls you closer.  His wide nose almost touches your oxygen mask with a small smirk.

“If it wasn’t for your mask I would’ve kissed you by now.” Jake teased.

That’s what makes your knees almost give out.  You manage to move out of his grasp and your blood rushes to your ears.  Jake’s ears move downwards and his eyebrows furrow.  He really did not mean to scare you.  He stood up to approach you but you just kept backing up so he let you go.  Once you reach the iron gate you stop.  You wanted to say at least one thing and not cower away like a kicked dog.

“For the record,” you piped up and turned, keeping your eyes at the floor, “I’ve never, uh, fucked someone’s Avatar before.  Or a Na’vi.” You then looked up to Jake.  “I’ve never had the chance.”

You darted towards the base building after making such a bold statement and once you entered the building you ripped the mask off of your face.  Now that your body was fully relaxed you could feel how impossibly wet your panties were.

“Fuck me.” You cursed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A week goes by after that encounter with Jake.  Jake has adapted to the Na’vi body very well and has even integrated with the Na’vi people.  So, you’ve heard, since you have not seen him once.  You could not tell if you wanted that or not.  The barrack experience made your brain go haywire.  You never anticipated Jake or any person in their avatar to flirt with you.  It was a wet dream come true and you were not ready for it.  Jake’s confidence and his attitude of not caring that you were interested genuinely shocked you.  You would expect any normal person to be disgusted that you were attracted to something humanoid and not human.

It was your day off so you decided to pop on an oxygen mask and head out near the gardens to draw some of the flora.  Dr. Augustine always enjoyed your detailed drawings on the biology of Pandora and would often use your drawings to teach newcomers on which plants to avoid and which ones were safe.  You smiled to yourself as you passed through the garden and headed to the edge of the grand forest ahead.  You pushed through large leaves and stepped over the roots of the large trees cascading over you.

You started humming to yourself as you scanned the different colored foliage for something new to draw.  You sat yourself down in front of a group of plants and noticed a growing mushroom-like plant that you have not seen before.  You whip out your sketchpad and start to sketch out the skeleton of the mushroom.  It was entirely purple, but had a blue ombre towards the top.  It was really pretty.  

You were so engrossed with your sketch that you did not hear footsteps behind you.  Jake was just coming back from a night with the Na’vi tribe he stumbled upon while being chased by a thanator.  He noticed your humming and saw you sitting on the forest floor.  He was curious on what you were doing and moved closer, furrowing his brows when he saw you were drawing.  You were deep enough into the forest to run into trouble and you had no weapon with you.  Jake scrunched his nose in worry.

“What are you doing out here with no weapon?” He asked sternly.

You flinched which caused your pencil and sketchbook to jolt out of your grasp.  You placed a hand on your chest and looked up, almost hurting your neck while doing so. “Jake!  Are we always going to meet like this? You scared me.” You scolded him.

“I asked, what are you doing out here with no weapon?” He asked again.

You stood up while clutching your sketchbook and pencil to your chest, “I don’t need one.  I just came out to draw some diagrams for Grace.” You said, but you were totally thinking about how right he was.

“Are you kidding?” Jake’s tail flicked with annoyance and his ears went back, “thanator’s can come this far.  You could be killed out here.” He pressed as he walked forward.

You took steps back until your back met the tree trunk behind you and you rested your head onto it to look up at Jake.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry to worry you, sir.”  You mumbled out as his overwhelming and overpowering presence turned your brain into mush.  

Jake’s eyes widen a little at the honorific before smirking and leaning down to cage you against the tree.  His head tilted teasingly as his tail flicked behind him and he nudged his flat nose against the glass of your mask.  This mask is necessary for your survival, but it annoyed him beyond comprehension.  It annoyed you too.  You wanted to be devoured by Jake and cling onto him like his breath was the only air you needed.

“Jake, really quick just kiss me.  I need you.”  You admitted and reached to pop your mask off.

“Woah, pretty girl.” Jake’s large fingers wrapped themselves around your forearm to stop you and asked, “what do you say?”

Fuck.

“Please, sir.” You breathed out.

“That’s better.”  Jake hummed and got down onto his knees to have easier access to you.  “Now we have to make this quick. I can't have you dying on me now, right?”

“Right.” You nodded and blushed, but you could not hold back a smile. 

You slide your fingers under your chin to release the face from your mask and slip it off your face, quickly cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss.  His lips covered yours and you were met with the same amount of eagerness.  His arms wrap around you and cradle you close as the kiss deepens.  This is when you dare to let a whimper as your tongues meet and his one arm comes up to cup your cheek, his fingers moving towards the back of your head to entangle themselves in them.  

You start feeling dizzy as the kiss grows hotter and the air becomes more toxic, but you wanted more.  Your hands move down to his shoulders and your nails dig into his smooth skin.  Jake’s fingers dig into your hair and pull, tugging your head away from his.  You whined, but then gasped for air.  Jake quickly took the mask from your hand and placed it back over your head.  You scramble to lock the mask and take in a big breath of air once the oxygen filtered back into your lungs.  You nearly lose your balance, but Jake still has a tight grip on your waist and your hair.  You look up at him and notice him taking in your panting form.

Once Jake was comfortable with your ability to breathe he dove into your neck and nuzzled it with his nose before giving it a long lick, causing you to let out a pathetic mewl of pleasure.  Your nails were still digging into his skin, but he did not mind.  After a few licks and kisses, Jake scrapped his fangs against your skin which caused you to shake.  You wanted him to do it.  You wanted him to sink his teeth into you and mark you as his.  Jake’s grip on your hair kept you very still as his teeth nipped at your skin causing purple marks to blossom across your skin.  All of this attention was causing your body to overheat and your cunt absolutely throb.

With Jake’s size and strength he could maneuver you into any position he wanted and that excited you.  You grew impatient with his obsession with your neck and whined, you desperately wanted attention elsewhere.  His other hand moved up to grope at your breasts through the thin shirt you were wearing and you bit your lip.  So, this was not some quick make out session.  This was happening.  You move your hands up to his braids and curl your fingers around them, holding onto him for dear life.  

Jake’s hand pushed on your chest which caused you to slowly lower yourself to the forest ground.  He lowered himself between your legs and you wrapped them around his lower torso.  Due to his size he did consider his weight and did not want to crush you, but just keep you in place.  His fingers move to peel your shirt over your head and off to the side.  Jake sat up to admire the view and it made his cock stir under his loincloth.  You looked so small and desperate.  All his to mark and claim.  

You were having similar feelings as you stared up at him with blown out pupils.  You let your legs drop from his torso to admire his physique.  Jake’s large hands move from your knees and drive themselves upwards towards your chest which causes your hips to thrust upwards out of need.  You whimper loudly as his hands massaged your breasts over your bra.  The weight of his hands pushing down on the fabric to create a delicious friction against your nipples which caused white heat to travel down to your clit.

“Such a pretty girl for me.” Jake chuckled and reached behind you to remove your bra.  “Do you think you’ll be able to take my cock?” He teased and he shifted downwards so that he would lay between your legs.

You honestly did not know. “Yes, sir. I can do it.” You huffed a hot breath of air as his tongue slipped out to swirl around your nipple and your hands are back in his braids, whining at the new sensation.

“I’ll make it fit.” Jake growled as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked on it.  He leans to the side slightly to use his other hand to cup your cunt through your leggings and your hips shudder in his grasp.  

“Jake!”  You gasp and try to wiggle out of his unforgiving hold, but it was useless.  

“I can feel how wet you are through your clothes, sweetheart.” Jake grinned and continued his ministrations on the neglected nipple.  “You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes.  I wanted you to take me in the barracks.  Right next to all the sleeping avatars.” You confessed and moved your hips against his fingers, wordlessly begging for them.

A small growl erupted from Jake’s throat as he moved off of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees.  A squeal came from your own throat from the way Jake just manhandled you quite literally to maneuver you where he wanted you.  His fingers curl around the waist band and tug harshly down your thighs.  You swore you heard a rip.  Your panties came off with your leggings and now your cunt was exposed to the very humid air of Pandora.  You lean down to rest on your forearm so you can turn your head to watch Jake.

Jake tugged at his loincloth as he was desperate to be freed.  His cock was throbbing with need at this point, but he needed to make sure you were prepared correctly to take him.  Jake’s tail twitched from the stimulation of seeing you bent over and wet for him.  You were so small and his for the taking. Jake freed his cock and sighed, situating himself so he can be face to face with your cunt.  Down here he got a proper smell of your arousal and his pupils dilated.  That is when he dove in. Jake’s nose was nudging your entrance while his tongue focused on your clit.

“Holy fuck.” You moaned in ecstasy and almost lost your balance.

Jake acted like a man starved.  His hands use your ass cheeks to spread you properly to access your cunt.  His tongue poked and swirled around your clit, causing your walls to squeeze in need of something to be inside of you.  You whine at the consistent attention to your clit and reach back in a pathetic attempt to grab Jake’s wrist.  His hands squeeze your ass and then one moves to run two fingers over your core.  Your thighs shake in response and you wiggle your hips, silently begging for him to do something.

“Sir, please.” You begged.

Slap.  Jake spanked you in response causing you to yelp and dig your fingers into the ground below you.  He prods at your entrance while still flicking his tongue back and forth on your poor clit.  It was throbbing from the constant stimulation Jake was putting on it, but it was making you impossibly wet.  He then pushes two fingers into your hole and grins to himself at how wet you are.  You mewl happily at how nice his long fingers felt inside of you.  They curl up and down, and go in and out.  

“Is this what you wanted?”  Jake asked while nudging your clit with his nose.  “You wanted to be fucked by a Na’vi here on the forest floor like a little whore?”

You moan again.  “Yes sir.” You reply.

Jake’s fingers continue fucking you slowly and his ears flicked at the sound your cunt was making.  His cock twitched at the sounds coming out of your mouth and filtered through your mask. Your ass was red due to the grip Jake has had on it.  His tongue went back on your clit which made you jolt.  You were going to come like this.  Jake’s fingers kept curling in the correct direction and speed on top of the clit stimulation.  You whine and whine as the pleasure becomes too much that you want to crawl away from it.

“Take it.” Jake groaned and pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth, speeding up the thrust of his fingers.

“Fuck!” Your fingers dig even deeper into the dirt below, “I’m coming!” You cry out.

“That’s it, baby girl.” Jake praised.

You squirt lightly over his fingers and let your body relax, whining at the pleasure that just hit you like a wave.  Your chest heaves with your panting and you can feel your cheeks flush.  Jake’s fingers slowly remove themselves from your hole and he wipes his chin with his forearm.  He stands on his knees and he realizes how awkward this positioning may be for the both of you. 

“Hang on, sweetheart.” That is all Jake gives you as warning before pulling your hips up so that you're lined up against his cock.

You hold your upper body up by resting both forearms and try to mentally prepare yourself for what's to come.  This normally would be an uncomfortable position, but with Jake holding most of your weight it was actually the perfect position to be in.  In which Jake agreed due to the fact that he could still hold you and maneuver you into the position he wanted due to the size difference between the two of you.  It excited him.

“I’m going to fuck you real good now, baby girl.”  Jake lined himself up and he nearly came right then and there.

You felt the thick head of his cock push through and you bit your lip, trying to keep as relaxed as possible.  The stretch definitely was uncomfortable, but your body was adapting fairly quickly.  You whine at the intrusion and fight the urge to wiggle out of his grasp.  Jake let out a loud groan at how tight you felt and his fingers were digging into your hip bones.  His dick was huge and he was right.  He was making it fit.

Although it did not fit all of the way, you were stuffed full of him.  There was an aching feeling due to his size, but it made you impossibly horny for him.  Jake’s tail kept flicking back and forth from the pleasure and he licked his fangs.  When your whining calmed down he took that as a sign to move.  He gently pulled his hips back and then thrusted back in, causing a loud yelp to escape your mouth.  A wave of pleasure scorched your body as pathetic moans kept coming from you.

“Sir, please fuck me.” You begged again and reached one hand down to your stomach while your other arm kept you grounded, “fuck, I can feel you against my stomach.”

This was enough to cause Jake to growl and to grant you what you wanted.  His hips crashed against yours in a steady space and your moans were increasing in frequency and volume.  It was overwhelmingly good.  Better than any human you have been with.  You were officially ruined and Jake was eating it up.  You were so tight and warm around him it drove him mad.  His thrusts became faster as he fucked you open for him.

“Fucking hell, baby.” Jake moaned and panted, “you’re taking me so well.”

“Mmmm, sir.” You mumble and mewl out, unable to say much else as your brain and body were turning into mush.

“That’s it baby.  Just take it.” He praised and reached one hand down to curl into your hair that he could access.

You swore you could feel drool at the corner of your mouth as it felt like he was in your throat too.  You just felt so full.  You could get off with just this penetration alone and it was approaching fast.  Your body was white hot and your walls were squeezing around his large cock frequently.  Jake’s hips did not fail him as he continued to fuck you.  His moans fueled your arousal even more.  You were so proud that your human body could give him so much pleasure.  The idea of being his human plaything excited you even more.

“I’m going to come!” You manage to cry out and reach one arm behind to grasp onto his fingers that have a death grip on your hips.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” Jake gulped and moaned, “I’m right after you.”

Your walls give him another squeeze before you squirt again and you feel it immediately go down your thighs.  You cry out and then leave your mouth open in a silent moan at the intense pleasure you were experiencing.  Jake held your body closer as his thrusts became erratic and inconsistent.  He came deep inside of you and he pulled your upper body up against his.  Jake leans down and drags his teeth across your neck and onto your shoulder.  A couple kisses and then a bite, causing you to cry out in pain.  Your hand reached back to cup his cheek, digging your fingers into it.

Jake let's go with a sigh and nudges the side of your head with his nose, “sorry, doll.  It was too good.” He apologized.

“Don’t worry, Jake.” You blushed at his affection and smiled, “it was kind of hot.”

“You’re a little freak.” Jake teased and gently wrapped his hand around your neck, “I like that.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey.” You hear Jake’s voice from behind you and you turn around.

“Oh hey.” You smiled shyly at the human man before you.  “Do you need something?” You asked.

Your behavior around Jake when he wasn’t in his avatar was a little different as you were more confident in conversation with him.

“Uh, yeah.” Jake cleared his throat before continuing, “we are moving our base of operation away from here and Dr. Augustine wanted to know if you’d like to join us?” He asked.

“Oh.” You blinked and looked around for a second before leaning in, “Dr. Augustine is wondering?” You teased him.

“Well, actually, yes she is.” He chuckled and continued, “but also me.  I was also wondering.” He smiled.

“Hell yeah, let’s get out of here.” You smiled back and started packing your things.

[i2rizz]

Atlanta Lock AU Pt.2

Fandom:Blue lock | masterlist

Characters: Atlanta lock!Sae x reader

Summary:Sae's Atlanta Lock persona is all about being a cold, unbothered influencer...

until he gets shadowbanned on Instagram.

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Sae Itoshi had it all—he was the king of O'Block, the guy everyone feared, and the one that all the influencers wanted to be associated with. He had the followers, the clout, and the absolute dominance of his gang. His Instagram was a testament to his coolness—luxury cars, expensive watches, and gym selfies that made it seem like he didn’t break a sweat.

But today… everything changed.

It all started with one notification:

"Your account has been temporarily suspended."

Sae’s first reaction? Denial. He stared at his phone for a solid minute, convinced it was a glitch. When he clicked the "appeal" button and nothing changed, panic started to creep in.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Sae said, his voice a little too calm for someone about to lose his mind. You looked up from your phone, sensing the shift in his mood.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to fix something,” he said, his eyes locked on his screen, fingers tapping rapidly on his phone.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I got shadowbanned.”

You blinked. “You what?”

“Shadowbanned!” Sae repeated like it was the end of the world. “Do you even understand how much that hurts my image? This is a catastrophe!”

You snorted. “Sae, you’re in a gang. Who cares about Instagram?”

“I CARE, [Y/N],” he hissed, standing up dramatically. “Do you know how much clout I’ve lost in just ten minutes? All my sponsors are gonna drop me! My followers are gonna think I’m a joke!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay. So what do you want me to do about it?”

His response was immediate: “We need to take this to the streets. I need to remind the world who I am. The real Sae Itoshi. I want O'Block to see me."

You stared at him. “What?”

“I’ll prove I’m still the hottest thing on Instagram… but I need something big.” He pointed to the street outside, his eyes glowing with that manic energy you recognized all too well. “I’m gonna host an impromptu street race. Right here. Tonight.”

And that’s how, in the middle of O'Block, Sae’s entire gang—along with half of the other street racers—ended up on the makeshift racecourse. The streets were packed with heavily modified cars, bikes, and a sea of people who seemed to materialize from nowhere. It felt like a crazy carnival of chaos.

You stood at the side, arms crossed, watching as Sae leaned against his blacked-out sports car, his custom-designed “Sae Itoshi” logo glowing on the hood. He was wearing a designer jacket, sunglasses, and an expression of complete confidence. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You sure about this?” you asked, hands on your hips.

He looked at you with a smirk. “I’m Sae Itoshi. Of course I’m sure. I’ll get my followers back in one race.”

You just shook your head, thinking, This man is something else.

As the race started, Sae’s car roared to life, tearing down the street with a roar of fury. But instead of the usual focus he would have in a street race, tonight he was treating it like a show. His every move—every drift, every acceleration—was perfectly timed for the Instagram live feed.

“Look at this!” Sae shouted into his phone, clearly attempting to hype himself up for the nonexistent audience. “This is Sae Itoshi, the fastest, the best, the ONLY one who can rule O'Block! If you’re not watching this, what are you doing with your life?”

You stood off to the side, arms crossed and watching him do his thing, shaking your head. The race itself wasn’t important to him—this was all about flexing. The Instagram live stream was his way of clawing back his “status” after the shadowban incident.

Then, as expected, Sae made a sharp turn, hitting the perfect drift while flipping the camera to his face for a second. “Y’all see this?” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Sae Itoshi doesn’t lose.”

Of course, it didn’t go smoothly. As he rounded a corner too quickly, his car skidded, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Sae’s calm expression faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his cool and flipped the camera back on his face, waving off the mistake like it never happened.

“You see that?” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “That’s called making the competition think you’re weak, and then showing them just how good you are. Psychological warfare.”

But his gang wasn’t buying it. They could see his nerves creeping in despite his cocky exterior. And when one of his rivals sped ahead of him, Sae’s smirk quickly turned into a grimace.

“Yo, yo—who do they think they are?” he muttered, slamming the wheel harder. “This race isn’t even about winning anymore. It’s about showing them I’m still the king!”

You shouted to him as he raced desperately to catch up. “Sae, relax. You don’t need to prove anything.”

“Shut up, [Y/N],” he muttered, still zooming past intersections. “I need to remind them I’m the best.”

At the very last moment, as they neared the finish line, Sae surged ahead, his car speeding like it had a life of its own. He won by a hair.

Sae skidded to a stop, immediately pulling out his phone to check the live stream. The crowd was cheering, but his attention was entirely on the screen, anxiously refreshing the page.

When the notification finally popped up, he let out a breath of relief. “There it is. The likes. The views. The comments.” He started scrolling through them, a satisfied smirk forming. “Told you. I always win.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Maybe next time, you’ll race for the fun of it, not for Instagram clout.”

He shot you a playful smile. “Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

And, just like that, Sae Itoshi once again proved that even when things go completely off the rails, he always finds a way to get the last word.

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Idk man im not feeling this post since idk if i captured his atlanta lock personality🫠

[roomsofangel]

CHAPTER SEVEN

the act of holding on and letting go .ᐟ

wc 1.1k

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated!

chapter warnings metaphor of torture. hint/talk of depression and suicidal ideation without it fully being expressed outright. y/n learns their feelings were manipulated at one point.

other with the further we get into this — the more warnings that will be more prominent — the lore and y/n uncovering everything alongside the way they all handle / go about things aren’t exactly what a healthy person would immediately go towards. ( and maybe, that one line you read in a previous chapter that didn’t seem like much, was actually a key thing for a later time x )

other 2.0 bringing my forever first baby back! i tagged those who i can remember asking to be on the taglist but no hard feelings if you want to be removed! i just deeply missed this series and it’s nowhere near done so i want to bring it back to finish it! at the moment, the masterlist was taken down so i’m in the process of redoing it so its not linked! however, click here to be directed to my old blog and the intro for this work! it’s all my work, i just moved over when that blog got shadowbanned!

“you’re absolutely fucking insane if you think i’d just sit here after hearing the stunt he pulled—“

seonghwa’s pitch and tone could make any grown man cower into submission, tears swelled up in their eyes while asking if he wanted them to bleed on his shoes or in his hands, seonghwa stared ahead focusing on hongjoong who was only speechless — how could you run into the arms that put you in harms way?

well, if he looked at it through an outsider point of view, that’s what you did with seonghwa constantly.

something told hongjoong you didn’t go to san with seductive undertones, that just wasn’t you. in every life, you still held the same morals. it was something he knew would never change.

“why did they go?” seonghwa’s voice began to lower, softly raspy when his emotions began fully processing, allowing himself to sit on the armrest chair and put his head in his hands, pushing his hair out of his face that draped over his forehead, “was it my fault?”

hongjoong shook his head, “though, i really want to say it is,” he coughed, attempting to cover the laugh he wanted to let out because he knew it wasn’t a comedic matter. “has anyone seen them?” he changed the subject, his skin crawling with unease after noticing the suffocating silence with himself and seonghwa in his living room

“besides san?” seonghwa sneered, fixing his posture before standing, dusting off imaginary dirt from his clothes, “i have to pay a visit to cupid,” he scoffed

hongjoong followed alongside, “something tells me this isn’t a usual business call,” he amused while catching up with seonghwa’s pace who made his way to the door, swiftly grabbing his car keys that hung from the wall storage hooks, “san knows all about those.”

seonghwa stopped for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to shake his head, though, his small peeking smile showed he found the reference amusing — opening the door, he swallowed his nerves.

he wanted to trust you. but how could he when you were surrounded by people he didn’t?

‎

‎

‎

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the room was cold, goosebumps illuminating each part of your skin that was more exposed than the other — you curled up on the couch with a heavy weighted blanket and a mug of hot chocolate — wooyoung only seemed to have a sweet taste, everything he owned in the food department was a major hint at his severe sweet tooth

you learned wooyoung was the god of love — though, most humans knew him as cupid despite some not fully believing on his reliability and existence, he seemed warm and inviting. he made sure you changed clothes and let you keep the dagger you swiped, clutched next to you.

it didn’t make sense that wooyoung was considered an enemy.

recalling san saying he met wooyoung however, had alarms going off in your head — what was his involvement? san never elaborated on the so called help.

but it was enough for him to be punished. how did you die the first time?

“if you keep frowning like that you’ll have wrinkles,” wooyoung prompted, taking a seat across from you with a strawberry cupcake in his hand, “at least, that’s what humans say — i never had any.”

you scoffed, biting back your laugh, “how lucky you must be.”

he nodded, smiling, “i mean, yn, i’m stuck as twenty three forever,” he kept a light hearted tone and facade, but you saw through it.

his eyes screamed of something you could recall as despair — desperate for an ending, he was tired. anyone with two eyes that struggled with choosing if they should stay or go, could see he was holding on by a thread.

because right now, wooyoung may have had the brightest smile — but you saw he also had the most saddest eyes.

“how did you get involved in this?” you asked, tone soft — you hoped you didn’t overstep a boundary, but wooyoung looked back at you with understanding

clearing his throat, “san told you he came to me, didn’t he?” he amused

you nodded in response.

“it was inevitable really, if san didn’t drag me in, one of the others would’ve,” he sighed, cleaning his fingers with his lips and tongue from the frosting excess of the cupcake he finished, “i felt bad for him, he was desperate for love and specifically from you.”

frowning, heart swelling, you knew if you were going to get the full story, you had to get your hands dirty and go to those who were all involved

it wasn’t smart in a sense — but with everyone telling different sides and their point of views, it was your job to pin point the consistency and bring it altogether.

for your final life.

‎‎

‎

“seonghwa is looking for you,” wooyoung mentioned, helping you wash the dishes — his eyes glancing to the side you resided, wet rag in hand focusing on the mug you drank from, “i can feel he’ll be here soon,” he frowned

“with hongjoong.”

your eyes lifted, attention gained fully, “do you know how long it’ll be?”

wooyoung shook his head, “i just wanted to tell you, give a heads up,” he pressed his lips together

you could see he was holding back, the same expression of wanting to say more than he was — was evident — you understood it all too well, that was your constant default.

words left unsaid.

“tell me what you want to, wooyoung,” you turned to face him

defeated, he smiled, “you made me feel human today, y/n,” his cheeks flushed and he looked away from you, “domestic even,” he teased which earned a small laugh from you

“i don’t know if i like it yet, but it’s not a bad feeling,” he briefed, finishing the last dish, “i just… want this with someone in particular..”

now this.

this was something you didn’t expect to hear.

“is it okay if i ask who?”

wooyoung laughed, “just as nosy as me, huh?” teasing, he cleared his throat and the amusement he held faded, recognizing the one thing you noticed, wanting the one thing you could never have.

“it’ll never happen, he’s been chasing after the same person for centuries,” he shook his head, “i can be blamed though.”

“i always helped him.”

then it made sense.

if wooyoung helped someone else, you weren’t aware of such — but something told you, whoever you thought of — was that person.

“why stay?” you asked

wooyoung contemplated on admitting it, tears swelling in his eyes before he whispered, “anything is better than being alone again, y/n.”

‎

‎

‎

you sat outside the porch, the talk with wooyoung left the two of you with overwhelming emotions — they weren’t directed at each other, but towards the confession and why wooyoung even got involved.

giving him time to adjust himself, you let wooyoung shower while you stared up at the full moon that shined down on you, appearing to slowly fade— nostalgic, you smiled.

you don’t know how long you had been staying with wooyoung, assuming half a night — at least, until the sunrise.

swallowing your nerves, you attempted to gather the information you received.

san didn’t give you an exact timeline but something told you he knew — you’d gather that later.

hongjoong and you had already been best friends — every life.

seonghwa was never meant to be your lover but somehow always made it happen.

and wooyoung helped san with you.

your expressions showed your progress and you couldn’t help but audibly gasp, “that fucking asshole.”

my yn never let a man control them.

“what a hypocrite you are, choi san,” you bitterly whispered under your breath

before you could stand and let wooyoung know you should be heading out soon, your nose twitched and felt a hand wrap around your wrist to pull you back

“yn, you have explaining to do.”

PREVIOUS . . MASTERLIST . . NEXT

taglist (open)

@onedumbho3 @chngbnwf

[liminalweirdo]

unanswered email sent to tumblr support for posterity

Hello, I'm having several issues with my blog (@ liminalweirdo) which I have outlined below.

- For some reason I can no longer send posts to other users at all despite following multiple people. - My friends say that they can no longer forward posts to me. In the app, my name appears but if they attempt to send a post tumblr gives the red bar that says "hiccup" or "something failed". - When I go to open my messages in the taskbar (little smiley face icon) to send or receive messages nothing loads at all, not old messages or even other people's usernames. - My likes, reblogs, and comments on posts do not show up at all on anyone's posts. - I cannot see my own posts on my own blog if I search. For example if I go on my own blog and search "dogs" nothing will come up, even though I have multiple posts tagged "dogs". - My personal posts that I have tagged within a fandom do not show up in that tag, and when I search it on tumblr (when they did previously). - If I reblog a post from someone else and add any information/comments, I can see it on my own blog, but it never shows up in the tag either.

I apologize if this is a duplicate ticket, but I still haven't received any response for over a month here or when I asked over @Tumblrsupport on twitter and I'm wondering if my account is flagged for some reason.

I'm seeing through twitter that other people with more recent problems are getting help before me (sometimes within 24 hours) and I'm just wondering how the queue works and why I've been overlooked for so long!

I have this as an ongoing issue since March 10th at least. Today is April 9th. I sent my first ticket 10 March because I no longer had access to my messages/chat and my original posts are not showing up in the tags. I'm wondering if the lack of response from your support team is because my account has been flagged as a bot?

A few months ago, there was a scam post where I sent messages to several people letting them know that they had reblogged the scam post where someone was soliciting money for their "cat" but using stolen images and pinning posts of different cats that all went back to the same paypal account. I reported this account to tumblr and it was removed, but here's one of my posts warning about it, back in January. https://liminalweirdo.tumblr.com/post/706997288785035264/my-cat-macaroni-was-hit-by-a-car-and-broke-the

There was a person posting this same cat scam more recently, and again I messaged the people who had reblogged the scam post, warning them that it was a scam, so maybe that's why my account may have been flagged as a bot or a spammer because of the number of similar messages? It's the only reason for this apparent shadowban I can think of, and the only reason I can see that my account would be flagged to be ignored, outside of a system glitch.

I know you guys are really busy, but it's discouraging to see people get help within 24 hours while I've been waiting over a month. It's even more discouraging to build a community on tumblr for 10 years and then suddenly not be able to contact any of my mutuals or participate in fandom, and then to not receive any response to any of my tickets or requests for help through support, the help center, and Twitter @Tumblrsupport. Please help me get my blog back to normal, it really means a lot to me!

Thank you!

@staff

[gnawed]

                   #   𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙸    +    𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙾    :     pourriture  éternelle

an  independent,   highly  selective and  private  crime   +   horror  dual  muse  original  characters.   absolutely  loathed  by  yerin.   please  read  through  their  doc  and  the  rules  below  before  interacting.   highly  triggering  content  will  be  present.  

venture  into  the  depth  and  darkness  of    :    wrath  disguised  as  decay   .   roaring  rampage  of  revenge   .   rotten  mind   ;   rotten  heart   .   paying  evil  unto  evil   .   codependent  twins   .   hunter  of  monsters   ;   worshippers  of  demons   .   born  together   +   die  together  

01.         ACTIVITY:    this   blog   is   relatively   medium   activity   +   mostly   active   on   weekends.   while   i   do   try   to   reply   as   often   as   i   can,   my   activity   will   be   sporadic.   i   kindly   ask   you   to   please   do   not   pressure   me   for   replies.   we   all   have   our   own   things   to   do   outside   of   rp,   after   all   !   however,   i   will   definitely   try   to   reply   to   tumblr   threads   within   a   week.   any   later,   it's   probably   dropped.   i'm permanently icon-less. i   do   reply to   d.scord   +   wire   (mutuals   only)   quite   fast   so   feel   free   to   ask   for   it   !!.

02.         FOLLOWING:        out   of   my   own   comfort,   this   blog   is   both   private   +   highly   selective.   i'll   only   follow   blogs   i'm   interested   in   writing   +   vibe   with.   if   i   don't   follow   you   back,   it's   nothing   personal   !   doesn't   matter   if   you're   an   at   canon,   oc   /   not   even   involved   in   the   fandom   at   all   —   if   i   do   follow   you,   that   means   i'm   very   interested   in   interacting   with   you   !!   whether   it's   about   ic   /   ooc   things,   please   feel   free   to   reach   out.   i'd   love   to   talk   to   any   of   my   mutuals   &   hear   all   about   your   muses   !!   the   best   way   to   start   things   with   me   would   be   through   plotting   +   memes.

03.         PLOTS   +   SHIPPING:    i   absolutely   love   plotting   !   my   ims   are   open   anytime   for   any   of   my   mutuals   to   slide   in   to.   i'm   very   much   open   to   creating   /   modifying   verses   if   we   have   a   fleshed-out   plot   idea   as   well.   when   it   comes   to   romantic   shipping,   i'm   highly   selective   +   strictly   chem   only.   of   course,   it   needs   to   be   age   appropriate   as   well.   i   prefer   to   get   to   know   the   mun   first   before   we   start   shipping   since   i'm   all   about   sending   each   other   pins,   hcs,   playlists,   etc   !   however,   any   other   connections   such   as   friendships,   familial,   antagonistic   -   are   always   welcome   !

04.         TRIGGERS   +   NSFW:    due   to   the   nature   of   the   muses,   there   will   be   some   triggering   content   present   such   as   blood,   murder, drug   use,   death   and   more.   please   be   warned   before   following   !!   triggers   will   be   tagged   under   one   tag   that   is:   //   yerins   being   ugly   as   my   blog   has   been   deleted   +   shadowbanned   twice   because   of   it   so   please   bear   this   in   mind   before   following.   i   do   not   participate   in   smut   in   any   form   on   any   of   my   blogs   +   this   absolutely   applies   here   as   well.

05.         ABOUT   THE   MUN:    if   you   read   all   of   this,   i'm   <3   you   !!   my   name   is   yerin,   i'm   23,   based   in   gmt+9   &   i   use   she/her/hers   pronouns.   i'm   east   asian   (korean)   so   english   isn't   my   native   language   -   i   might   make   mistakes   sometimes.   i'm   an   extrovert   so   i   do   love   meeting   people   so   please   never   be   afraid   to   message   me   privately   to   get   to   know   one   another   !   <3   other   blogs   you   might   know   me   from  @guilehero and @nitekill.

05.         CREDITS:    psd   is   edited   from   sereg0re.

[chuluoyi]

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

back to pinned » about the host

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖

not spoilers-free. contains sfw and nsfw content—so pick your poison. i’m not your police and therefore, not responsible for what you see. read warnings !

this is also my personal blog in which i post my thoughts and random posts so don't expect it to be fully about fics. there are tags for you to block if necessary

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄

of basic dni criteria (racist, sexist, homophobic, etc.)

porn link posters

subposting often and disguising it as “shitposts” or “opinions”

haters of my works/opinions

against fics basing off manhwas/tv shows

for subposting: i do not subpost. but i’m also no pushover. if you dare to subpost about me first then i won’t hesitate to respond it so don’t you dare to play victim—you started it

this is my safe space and also intended for those who genuinely want to have fun too, so if you intend to spoil it, please just reflect hard on yourself and begone for both our sakes

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

please be respectful. i don’t appreciate swear words being used in asks sent to me (or targeted to my anons). anything remotely close to unpleasantries will go straight to trash bin on sight

do not rant about or bring discourse into my askbox

do not spam like or i’ll block you. tumblr will think i have a bot and shadowbans me. if you want to show support, please reblog instead. rule of thumb: mass like + mass reblog = OK // mass like = NO // mass reblog = OK

do not send questions about other writers to my askbox. if you want to clarify or bring something to my attention, then ask it in my dms or off-anon. but if your intent is to start discourse between me and other writers, then do your worst because i won’t entertain you

i put reblogs, asks and posts on queue, so if i haven’t replied your asks or messages and you see me reblogging or posting answers, that’s because they've been queued—i’m not ignoring you! i will get back to you asap! and my askbox has like 100+ messages, so it’s taking me a while to answer them too

you can talk to me outside my fics! you can randomly drop by my askbox but no trauma dumping (because i'm not a professional) and be nice!

do not ask me to become mutuals. i follow on my own accord. we can always be friends even if we are not though!

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

i write female reader only, for: ⟡ jujutsu kaisen: gojo, megumi, nanami ⟡ love & deepspace: sylus, zayne, xavier

do not rush me to write. i’m an adult with 8-5 office job. there’s a lot going on in my life and writing is just something i do as a hobby and for free. i can write/post as soon as the next day, next month, or never

i mainly write fluff, angst, crack and occasionally, smut i don’t write: bimbo reader/dumbification, degradation, hate sex, period sex, poly, dark content (rape, incest, stepcest, non/dubcon, etc), vulgar kinks (vomit, scat, piss, sex toys, etc)

please do not ask me to write specific traits/attributes (e.g skin tone/weapon/cursed technique) for the reader and by default, she is always described as smaller/shorter than the characters i'm writing. if you have problem with this, then kindly block me and move on—any preaching/hate comments will be blocked immediately!

do not use my headers, headcanons, gifs, plagiarize my fics for your blog/send it to another blog to write it. i will call you out for plagiarism—and it’s not going to end pretty, so just don’t

i do not allow translations or reposts in other platforms such as wattpad or tiktok. should i ever catch you, i’ll call you out as well

i have no qualms with aging up so if you’re a bigot who can't separate fiction and reality then my blog isn’t for you. do not interact or just block me, and do not bring discourse about this to my askbox. you’ll get ignored, blocked and reported

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

porn links poster. say what you want, there’s no justification for it—porn links are not writings!

spam liking without reblogging. there’s no reason for you to mass like my posts if you’re just mindlessly liking it. please at least reblog instead to show support

leaving rude comments. i don't tolerate rudeness in my blog

plagiarists. pretty self-explanatory, these shits must be driven out of here

subposting often. mutuals or not, i’m blocking you. vaguely spreading hate about me/other creators in the form of “rambles” or “shitposts” just because you don’t like someone is peak children behavior. i don’t want that in my dash!

a bigot, problematic individual, or instigating discourses. i neither have the time to deal with these shits nor do i want to partake in them, so goodbye. and if you’re affiliated with them, i’ll block you too

making me uncomfortable. i’m curating my own experience too here so if i see you posting or venting things i don’t want to see in my dash, i’m going to block you—this also applies to mutuals. no hard feelings, i just want to keep my peace

for mutuals: if you want to break the mutual, feel free to do so—but please hard-block so i won’t refollow you by accident

i believe this goes without saying, but if you disagree with any of my rules above, then my blog is obviously not for you

thank you for those who have made it this far! i don't mean to sound harsh — i'm just establishing boundaries. if you have any further questions or unsure about certain topics i can write, feel free to send me an ask, i promise i don't bite :)

[bradshawsbaby]

Happy Birthday, Bradley!

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: I will always be a little salty that I wasn’t able to post this on his actual birthday, but I’m so glad that the shadowban has finally been lifted! This one seems like a good one to celebrate with!

Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff, hints at some spice (nothing explicit).

- Every year, when June 27th rolls around, you make it your personal mission to spoil your husband rotten for his birthday.

- Rooster is always incredibly low-key about his birthday, and never asks for anything, but you always spend weeks planning something special for him.

- On his first birthday as your boyfriend, you got the two of you tickets to a San Diego Padres game. Rooster had mentioned several times how much he enjoyed baseball, and how he remembered his dad taking him to a few games when he was little, so he was incredibly grateful for the gift.

- “Just please tell me you didn’t have them put my name up on the jumbotron,” Rooster teased, tugging affectionately on the bill of your baseball cap.

- “No, no, of course not,” you winked, giggling when he jokingly groaned.

- What you hadn’t planned on was the two of you getting picked for the Kiss Cam. Everyone around you cheered and whistled as Rooster planted a big kiss on your lips, waving to the cameras as you blushed.

- “Happy birthday, Bradley,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he settled an arm around you to enjoy the rest of the game.

- Another year, you planned a weekend trip to Miami for the two of you, figuring it would be a perfect time to hit the beaches and soak up some sun by the pool.

- Rooster ended up wanting to spend most of the time you were there in your hotel room. But, hey, he was the birthday boy. Who were you to refuse?

- “Happy birthday, Bradley,” you giggled in between kisses, feeling like you were the one getting the gift with him as your boyfriend.

- During the year of your engagement, you knew you wouldn’t be able to do anything too extravagant since most of your money was going towards the wedding or being saved for the future. However, with help from your friends, you were able to throw a lovely surprise party at Penny’s house.

- “I promised I’d drop something off for Penny on our way to lunch,” you told him as you drove the two of you in the direction of the Benjamin household. “Come inside with me. Penny made lemonade for your birthday,” you added with a wink once you pulled up outside.

- Rooster had been genuinely shocked when he’d stepped into the house and everyone had jumped out of their hiding places with a raucous shout of “SURPRISE!”

- Though it was nothing too elaborate, Rooster had been deeply appreciative of the barbeque and yard games in celebration of his birthday. He made sure to whisper in your ear over and over again how thankful he was and how lucky he was to have a fiancee as amazingly thoughtful as you.

- “Happy birthday, Bradley,” you grinned, playfully wiping some off the frosting from his cake onto the tip of his nose. He got you back by nuzzling it across your cheek.

- On his first birthday as your husband, you surprised him with a photo album you had made of all the pictures you’d discovered among his mother’s things. There were pictures of his parents when they were children, pictures of them as a young couple, pictures from their wedding, and tons of pictures of them with Rooster as a baby. You’d also included pictures of Carole and Rooster from his graduations and sporting events growing up, as well as some pictures from your own wedding, side by side with his parents’ wedding photos.

- “God, baby, this is amazing,” Rooster told you, reverently flipping through the pages as he sat beside you on the couch. “Thank you,” he murmured, choked up as tears glistened in his eyes.

- In addition, you’d also found a company online that could convert old home videos into DVDs and digital files. So you’d sent all the Bradshaws’ home videos off just in time to be able to play them for Rooster on his birthday. You’d both cried watching Goose’s and Carole’s bright smiles fill the screen, their infectious laughter present in every take as they brought Bradley home from the hospital, took him to the beach, celebrated his first Christmas, and shared so many other special moments together as a family.

- “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me,” Rooster whispered, squeezing your hand. He’d missed the sound of his parents’ voices and now he could hear them whenever he wanted.

- Once you and Rooster started having children of your own, his birthday celebrations became simpler. You and the kids usually surprised him with breakfast in bed or made a special dinner for him.

- Every year, you help the kids make cards for their daddy and pick out gifts which you claim are from the children. Rooster always makes sure to make a big deal about everything that they give him.

- Once the kids are asleep, you make sure to give your husband a little gift of your own.

- “Mrs. Bradshaw, you have really outdone yourself this year,” he whistled on his most recent birthday, smiling widely at the lingerie set you’d picked out just for the occasion. Lifting you up into his arms, he kissed you fervently as he turned and gently laid you down on the bed. “You spoil me too much,” he whispered, kissing his way down your neck.

- Laughing, you wrapped your arms around him and smiled as his hands roamed freely all over your body. “Happy birthday, Bradley!”

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

The Fate You Fight - Pt. 1

Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

[TFYF Masterlist]

Tags: soulmate AU, telephatic link soulmate, architect!reader, jewish!Wanda, post-MoM, hurt/comfort, no proofreading

Warnings: mention of abuse, description of violence, language

Summary: You never wanted anything to do with your soulmate, but when you find her in an advanced state of distress you had to help. After that, it becomes hard to let her go.

A/n: so, after asking everyone's opinion, i of course decided to do exactly the inverse of what people advised me to do because im a rebel like that. Or at this point im just accepting my fate that im not build to write one shots, one or the other

(Also the shadowban situation for my main fic blog is not resolved, so for now im gonna use that account and either it will become my full time fic account or if the shadowban reverse in like a week i'll go back to the old one.)

Taglist: @red1culous

It is said that the first time you cross paths with your soulmate, you develop the ability to hear their thoughts.

Needless to say, for Wanda, it meant nothing. Since she received her powers, she had always been able to hear everyone's thoughts around her. No matter how much she tried to block people, some would always get to her, loud thoughts, or the ones that were pushed the closest to the surface. And that meant she would likely never be able to find her soulmate, unless her soulmate found her - and that too was unlikely. As an Avenger, she mainly kept to herself. She didn't like to meet new people, or to go outside in crowded areas. In the end, as much as she dreamed of it as a kid, she gave up. She didn't need a soulmate anyway, she was one of the most powerful people to ever exist, and she had her friends. She would be fine without anyone.

As for you, you hated the concept of soulmates. You thought it was an egregious concept that you should follow someone around just because 'fate' (what was even fate? Did that prove the existence of a superior being or was it just a weird evolution of humans DNA? It was unlikely since you heard of humans having aliens soulmates. In the end, this was a debate for philosophers and scientists to settle, and you had no time for that) said you had to. And maybe it was motivated by childhood trauma - your parents were soulmates, but your dad still tried to kill your mom - but it was how you intended to live your life. No matter the thoughts that manifested in your mind, you would stay away from whoever intruded in your brain.

It was with this mindset that you heard a voice that wasn't yours in your head for the first time. You remembered it quite vividly since it happened during a bank robbery in which you were an unfortunate hostage. You usually led a peaceful life, you would wake up in the morning, get ready for college - you were a Columbia architecture student on a full ride scholarship thanks to your stellars marks and rowing prowess - go to your classes, stop at the library to work, then go to training, but today your roommate needed to stop by the bank, so you went with her. And that's when it happened. A loud bang and a hole in the ceiling, and everyone was on the ground in an instant, the people in masks barking orders around.

Next to you one idiot tried to stop the robbers, thinking it was his moment to shine as a licensed handgun owner. He was quickly shot down, blood splattering on you and your friend. You wiped your lips, trying to avoid tasting the iron tasting substance, only to see Anath, your friend, scramble to her knees to try and stop the bleeding. She was a med student, and she was a good one at that.

"Hey! Get back to your knees!" You heard the closest of the thief yell at her, the man's weapon in his belt now.

"I need to stop the bleeding," she said defiantly, her eyes on the dangerous man while she kept pressure on the wound. "Or this guy will die."

"I don't care! Lie down!" He pointed his rifle at her.

"No!" She was stubborn, she always had been.

The next second, it was like everything happened in slow motion when you saw him put his finger on the trigger. It was your turn to be an idiot as you were barely standing up when you dived to tackle him. Bullets flew around the room while you wrestled him. You might not be big on fighting, but you were able to compensate with sheer strength. Rowing sculpted your body years ago and it was easy to overpower someone who was so clearly out of shape. Taking the rifle from his hands, you used the cross to hit him in the head and have him pass out. Now the problem was two of his other friends who had weapons pointed at you.

You closed your eyes. That's not how you wanted your life to end, but you saved Anath, so you were fine with it.

But there was no roaring sound, and instead you heard groans and grunts, and the sound of people being slammed around. So you took a peek, and you saw both men enveloped by red auras being pushed against the ceiling, and then the ground, falling unconscious from the impact while the rest of the Avengers team rolled in with some SHIELD agents. Before you knew it, the situation was resolved and you were sitting at the edge of an ambulance with Anath next to you, both in a shock blanket. The man who was shot had been brought to the hospital while most of the other people stayed behind to give statements to the police or SHIELD, or went back home after giving their contact information. Everyone was safe, but you kept replaying the events in your head, the blood flying around, the fear of almost losing your life, when you heard it for the first time.

You had absolutely no idea what she was saying, the words in a language you couldn't understand.

Oh no, no, absolutely not, you thought to yourself, tensing like never before, even when you were in that bank you felt better. But you didn't really have time to flee before someone was in front of you, wearing a long red coat with a black corset and a skirt, brown hair flowing freely around her very, very pretty face. Her green eyes placated you into place.

"What you did inside… it was very heroic," she said, with the most stunning voice you've ever heard. Was it her? No. No way. First of all, Avenger, second of all, way too pretty, and finally, she had no accent - something that you of course ignored was that Wanda heavily worked with Natasha to get rid of her accent.

You opened your mouth uselessly before words finally fell out of it. "Oh, huh, you know, couldn't let my best friend get shot." She offered you a small laugh, and you wish you could have registered it to play it again and again.

"I understand. But, just so you know, you're safe now." She tilted her head as she gave you a warm smile.

That was an odd statement, so you tilted your head, mimicking her, but arched a teasing eyebrow. "How? Do you intend to follow me around to protect me?"

"What?" She blushed deeply, looking away. "No, of course not!"

Your snort turned into a laugh. "Sorry, I was joking." She was still blushing, but your laugh soon died down. "Hey, huh… thanks. For saving me."

"If that's how you thank me, mocking me like that…" she pouted just a bit, and it was adorable. You wished to see more of it.

"Okay, no more teasing."

She looked a bit longer at you, in an hesitation. Next to you, Anath was drinking the water she had been provided while watching what was happening in front of her with vested interest.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around another time," Wanda settled on. You were disappointed, but you kept it to yourself.

"See you around."

With that, she walked away, and Anath slapped your upper arm.

"Dude!"

"What?" You asked with a frown, rubbing your now pained arm.

"Sparks were flying, you should have asked for her number."

You scoffed at that. As if. "I don't have time to date."

And that was that. Your friend groaned from frustration but didn't insist. She knew of your aversion for soulmates, or at this point, dating in general.

It would be years before you saw Wanda again.

*

Years went by. The Sokovia Accords happened. Wanda found comfort in Vision. As a Synthesizoid he didn't have a soulmate, and she knew she would never find hers. And if she did? It would be unfair to impose that on that poor person. So she went with him. It was easy, uncomplicated, and she had good times. And then Thanos happened. Vision died. Westview. She became the Scarlet Witch and almost took one more life for herself, to claim a power she needed to protect her kids. They were all that mattered. But in the end, she couldn't. So she tried to destroy herself along the Darkhold. But she failed. She was still alive, she was still suffering, and she didn't know what to do. She became a shell of herself, called back to one of the only places she ever called home. She went back to the United States. To New York.

*

Years went by. The Sokovia Accords happened. The Blip happened. You stayed behind, already having lost everything else to illness, your mom dead after years of a losing fight - and were lucky enough to still have Anath with you. Your friend wasn't so lucky; she lost her soulmate that day. You moved back together again and for five years you did your best. It was hard. Humanity had lost so many people and the general grief that floated over everywhere in the world was too heavy for those left behind to truly move forward.

But you tried. 

God, you tried.

Then everyone came back and so many people were reunited. But the world lost two of their greatest heroes for good, and some more when they decided they couldn't fight anymore.

Anath and her soulmate reunited, but they both stayed with you as they still had to adjust to many things. It was good to hear your best friend laugh so hard again, and you were happy for her, but sometimes when you saw them together you would feel so lonely. You found yourself wondering how it would feel, but it was probably too late for that. You missed your opportunity and clearly, whoever your soulmate was wanted nothing to do with you or they would have manifested themselves the day you heard them for the first time. So you just accepted your lack of fate.

But Fate hadn't given up on you.

Since half of New York's population returned, your architecture firm had a lot of work and you were assigned to an old new project - one that was abandoned when money dried up due to the disappearance of those who commissioned your firm. The building you were working on had been left as it was, people with no homes moving in and out with no one to keep them out, before they were chased recently. It was none of your business, but you still felt bad about it and hoped they found their way back to loved ones or a place to stay, where they would get the help they needed.

You walked the decrepit building with an inspector to gauge the damages and what would need to be replaced or entirely remade before the project could get back on track. Garbage was littered around with moldy mattresses, the smell was terrible and you didn't need the inspector with you to guess there would be a lot of work to be done when you noticed the broken walls and black stains. But as you walked around, the both of you noticed a silhouette laying down on one of the mattresses. At first it was easy to miss it; there were a number of garbage bags and cardboard boxes thrown around.

"Shit! Did one of those parasites die here?" You frowned at the man next to you. "That's bad for us, it will give us more paperwork," he grumbled and you wanted to slap him across the face. He was talking about a person, for god's sake. "We should still call the cops."

As he was talking you came closer to the body and that's when you heard her again. It was barely above a whisper but it was there, somewhere in your head, and it hit you like a truck. How was that even possible?

You turned to the inspector who already had his phone out. "Call an ambulance. She's alive," you ordered him firmly.

He was surprised but he complied and soon enough you were in a hospital room, sitting on a chair in the corner as you looked at the woman hooked on monitors and fluids. Apparently, she was severely dehydrated and malnourished. You could see it in the way her cheeks caved inside, her skin pale and sickly. The end of her fingers were also colored black but the doctors had no idea why.

Of course you had recognized her, but you seemed to be the only one, and considering her state you decided to say you had no idea who she was, and she was entered as Jane Doe in the files. It was probably better that way. If she was leaving in this building slowly wasting away she probably didn't want any of her old friends to find her. Still, you were half of a mind to try and contact them. Get her off your hands. But something kept you from doing it.

You were ripped from your thoughts when Anath entered the room with two sandwiches and she handed you one.

"Can you still hear her?" She asked. Despite not giving away her real identity you informed the staff that she was your soulmate so she could be covered under your medical coverage. It was a neat little bonus you had thanks to your position in your company.

You took the sandwich, looking up to your friend briefly. "From time to time, but it's very faint."

"That's still a good sign." Your eyes fell back on the woman laying in the hospital bed. You felt Anath's hand on your shoulder. "She'll be fine, she just needs some rest."

Your best friend didn't try to address the elephant in the room; she knew of your aversion to soulmates but would never bring the subject up first.

"How long?"

"Hours, a day, maybe longer."

You kept your eyes on her even as you ate. You'd be there when she woke up, you owed her that. After all, she saved your life once upon a time.

*

You were in the office when Anath sent you a message. It took you twenty minutes to finally open it, and when you did, you swore in front of your boss. He sent you an empathetic smile when you told him what it was about and let you go. He was one of the people who lost his soulmate during the blip, he understood in some way how you felt about yours being in the hospital. You bolted. You were never one to run - you liked to take your time - but you made an exception. When you arrived, Wanda was awake.

"Sorry!" You exclaimed, breath ragged by your run. "I was working when I heard you were awake."

The confusion on her face was obvious, and you cringed. Of course she had no idea who you were. When she saved you, she was just doing her job, and you were probably only one in thousands of people.

"I'm Y/n, I'm the one who brought you here. And…" you came closer so you could whisper. "I know who you are, but thought you'd want to keep your anonymity," you explained.

And Wanda was very grateful for that. She remembered the relief she felt when she realized no one here knew who she was, so when they asked her, explaining they didn't know, she kept the charade up.

"Thank you," she simply said, accent thick to your surprise, voice rocky.

"That's the least I could do." She frowned at that and you looked away. You felt so dumb. You were always so stoic and self-assured, and for whatever reason you just turned into a puppy with her. "A few years ago you stopped a bank robbery and saved me."

A number of things went through her face, but finally recognition settled on her features.

"You're the girl who saved her friend." She would have exclaimed herself if nlt for her way too dry throat.

You grabbed a glass of water that you put in front of her. "Yeah, that's me," you admitted simply.

She took the water and considered you for a few seconds before she finally drank. Apparently she deemed you worthy.

"Why…?"

"Huh?" You put, very eloquently you might add.

"Why… help me?" She looked down in her glass, and your heart broke when you saw all the grief, all the pain, everything that made her say her next words. "I would be better off if I were dead. Everyone would."

You sat at the edge of her bed and ever so gently scooped her face to have her look up at you. "That's not right."

Tears formed in her green eyes in droves. She couldn't hold your gaze, but you were keeping her from looking away.

"You have no idea what I did."

Truly, you didn't. "Why don't you tell me?"

She tensed, grabbed your hand to push it away. You let her do it without any resistance. "I don't deserve to." She looked back down. You had no idea what to do to help her at this point, and if you were honest, there was probably not a lot you could do besides be there for her. So you would do exactly that.

"I don't agree." You followed her gaze down and noticed she was looking at her hands. "What happened to your hands?"

She frowned and never answered. Her silence was enough for you to let it go, so you stood up. She didn't look up but you noticed her eyes following you.

"Leaving?"

You arched an eyebrow and hid a smirk. "Will you miss me?" You teased. But once again you were met with silence. "Don't worry, I'll be right back."

You left the room and headed to the hospital gift shop. Once you arrived, you looked around, grabbing some books at random, a stuffed animal - a bear with get well soon shirt - and some snacks. You don't know what she likes, so you take a few different ones. You ended up with two small brown paper bag with the gift shop's brand printed on it.

When you come back to the room, you see her looking out the window, sadness painted all over her face, so you make sure she hears you come in. You didn't want to intrude on her. She still jumped slightly at your sudden arrival, seemingly surprised to see you again.

"I'm back," you announced pretty uselessly and wondered if she thought you left despite saying you were coming back.

She just looks at you.

Carefully, you took the books out of the bag you were carrying and put them down next to her in a neat pile. You left the snacks in the bag and simply put it next to the books. "I brought you some stuff," you told her as if it wasn't obvious.

Then you hesitated a bit before you took the stuffed bear out.

"Thought you'd like some company when I'm away." You placed it on top of the books. Still no answer. But you hear her questions running in her mind. The whys, and the self-loathing comments. She doesn't seem to have noticed yet that she can hear your thoughts, or maybe she did but doesn't care. The latter makes you ache no matter how much you try to fight it. 

You open your mouth, you want to tell her something, the silence around you both suffocating. It made you feel uncomfortable and incredibly inadequate. But before you can really say anything, Anath came in the room after a short knock.

"Hi guys, sorry to interrupt, I'm doing my last round for the day," she explained and grabbed the chart at the end of Wanda's bed. "You seem to be doing fine. We're going to keep you here a few more days to make sure you're on track, then you can go home." She gave you a look at that. You suddenly found the outside fascinating.

"I don't… I don't have money. Or insurance," she said finally, in an attempt to be let go. She knew she wouldn't have the energy to fight her way out. She didn't want to either. She was so tired of everything.

"It's okay, it's covered by Y/n," Anath told as she pointed at you with her chart. The Witch's gaze bore into you and you avoided it. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, miss Doe." She was about to leave the room, she got her upper body back in. "Do we wait for you for dinner tonight, Y/nn?"

You shook your head. "No, I'll probably grab something on my way back."

Finally the doctor left, and once again you were alone with Wanda. You could see in the way she looked at you that she was trying to figure out your motive. You scratched your head and grabbed a book from the pile.

"I'll try this one, I'll tell you if it's any good," you tell her as you go sit in the armchair in the corner of the room. Her eyes stayed on you ten minutes in your reading, until she seemed to lose interest and settled in the bed.

She could hear your thoughts so easily, not all of them, but those she caught were crystal clear, it was uncanny. It was probably because of how weak she was currently, she couldn't put up her mental barriers. Right now she could hear you read, so she listened, your voice calm against the roaring thunder of the tempest raging inside of her. Soon enough, she fell in a deep sleep, and for once, no nightmares plagued her.

*

A nurse came in to inform you that visiting hours were over, and you got up. Wanda was asleep again after eating, and so you decided to let her rest. You checked your bag and found a pen and paper easily to leave her a note you put in the bear's arms. After that you sneaked out.

Wanda woke up in the night and looked around, panic setting in until she remembered where she was. The hospital. She frowned. Last thing she remembered she had just eaten and you were reading again. She must have fallen asleep. She looked around and noticed how dark it was. You were nowhere to be found, but the note in the bear's arms got her attention. With trembling fingers she read it.

'Hey, I had to leave and didn't want to wake you up. I'll be back tomorrow, in the meantime take care of yourself. For me.

Y/n'

She read the words again and again, especially the two you crossed. For you. A warm feeling sparked in her, under the rubbles of her life. Slowly, with utmost care, she folded the little note and put it in the book you had been reading while you were here. She eyed the bear before she settled in bed, looking away. A few seconds later, she turned around to grab it in her arms and resumed her position. There, she fell asleep again.

*

You came by the next day, and the one after that, and again. You brought work with you, knowing that even if your boss was understanding you still needed to put some hours in. From time to time you would try to talk with Wanda, but she barely answered, and when she did it was monosyllabic at best. She was looking better, less famished, but still grieving something you knew nothing of. So you didn't push, giving her the time qhe needed, until Anath came around to check on her once more.

"Everything looks great. We're going to send you home tomorrow," she declared.

"Home…?" There was something in her voice and tears started to pool in her eyes. That was bad. You could feel her thoughts spiral.

"You don't have to," you intervene. You stood up to come closer. "You can come to our place."

Anath looked at your, arching both eyebrows. You never discussed that with her, but now that the offer was out there it's not like you could take it back. Especially since it seemed to have shocked her enough for her to calm down slightly.

"Your… place?" She looked confused.

"Yeah, huh, with Anath. We're roommates, and we have a spare bedroom. You could stay there. If you want." You looked at her expectantly. "You don't have to answer now. And if you don't want to, I can arrange for a hotel or something."

She didn't answer and your best friend looked at the two of you. "Okay, I'm gonna go now. Someone will bring the paperwork for your release."

Wanda kept her eyes on you, so many feelings in her eyes. You gave her the time she needed to talk, hearing the questions in her head.

"Why are you doing this for me?" She asked, and it surprised you.

Why were you?

It could have been the soulmate bond, and maybe it was, a little, and it could also just be that you wanted to repay her for saving your life, but the truth was you just wanted to help her. She looked crushed under the weight of lifetimes of pain, and you wished you could take some pain off of her shoulders. Was it that you wanted to get closer to her? Was there an ulterior motive? Honestly you had no idea. You hated it.

"I… I don't know."

"I feel like you do." She looked down at her hands where the tip of her fingers were still black. "Or at least have some idea."

Did she read your mind?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to." You frowned slightly. "You don't owe me anything. Not for your life, or because we're…"

Wanda did hear you, and now it made a lot of sense. But it also meant that until you found her almost dead on the floor you wanted nothing to do with her, but the truth was, you wanted to explain how this whole concept made you feel, to tell her that it wasn't what made you act that way, to defend yourself. That you were better than that, but were you?

"I know," you said. "I still want to help. Once you're back on your feet we can go our own way." 

So many feelings were burning down your throat, and you hated it all. You hated that you were soulmates, and you hated how it took your choices away, and yes, you played with the idea of it recently because you didn't want to live your life alone, but still. This was different, and you didn't know how to deal with it. Maybe you'd find a way one day, but today wasn't that day.

Wanda seemed to have her own train of thoughts on her side, even if she mainly looked at your inside conflict from the outside. She could only grab some passing thoughts of feelings but refused to look at it closer, and decided to stop the cacophony in your head.

"I'll go with you," she finally answered to your big surprise. That was unexpected.

"Are you sure?" Your question was genuine, you didn't want her to feel forced into staying at your place.

She nodded, and that was that. She didn't say anything else for the evening, even when you left and told her you'd pick her up tomorrow morning.

Once you were gone, she thought about everything. Everything that had happened in her life, especially since she met you, and the longer she thought about it, the angrier and more desperate she became as what ifs hit her. What if she realized it when you met? She wouldn't have gotten with Vision, maybe, and she wouldn't have lost him and then her kids. What if you spoke at the time?

She was mad at herself, but also at you. And the worst was that she actually kind of liked you. Your presence made her feel better. It scared her so much, all this, after what she did, because she couldn't slip again.

All she could do in the end was cry.

[yuyusuyu]

bloody hell — forgive and forget

synopsis. oh, if only, if only she hadn't crossed paths with him. then maybe, just maybe, all of this could've been avoided... except, it was bound to happen by fate. there was no escaping the fate that was given to you at birth.

pairing. ot8! vampire! ateez x fem! reader (not poly! everyone will have their own ending!)

genres/aus. vampire au, suspense, romance, angst, slow burn

warnings. mentions/description of blood, arguing, cursing, jongho about to throw hands oop, mention of k wording someone help. if there's anything i should add, please lmk !

rating. pg-13

wc. 2.6k lol...

a/n. this was nawt proofread... super duperrr sorry for uploading late !! was very busy and am very busy right now but things should calm down next week heh.

send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

YOU ABSENTMINDELY TAP YOUR PEN ON THE DESK, your eyes reading over and over again what you had written down in your notebook.

MIDTERM

Find someone whose first/native language isn’t Korean + do a presentation on the phoneme of their language and choose one interesting phonetic element of that language and do a more in depth look at it

includes recordings + analyzing

MANDATORY TO FIND A SENIOR TO DOUBLE CHECK THE WORK (prof said she doesn’t want to do it and is lazy)

the last bullet point you wrote down makes you snicker—your professor is a prime example of how blunt she is— and shake your head, deciding to finally close it and put it away. the lecture room is empty now, your classmates having left minutes ago after the clock hit one in the afternoon. you remained in your seat to avoid their trampling, and quite frankly, you want to remain there.

but your phone buzzes, vibrating against the table and reminding you that you have to get going if you want to get there in time.

you grab your phone, your finger right over the screen.

jjongs: are you out?

you get up from bed, sluggishly walking to the kitchen to drink a cup of water, walking past jongho as he leans against the wall outside your door. it was when you had filled up your glass cup and brought it to your lips that he spoke softly.

“why didn’t you text me yesterday?”

he remains in his spot, his head hung low while he waits. three gulps and the cup is empty; you turn your back towards him and head to the sink, beginning to wash it. “i forgot.”

“you forgot?” his tone is… weird. not quite mad, but in disbelief? he doesn’t believe you, and you don’t know why. you’ve never lied to him, never given him a reason to not trust you.

“yeah,” you answer, scrubbing the inside of the cup harshly with the sponge, creating a lot of foam. “i forgot. why?” you pause for a second. “you don’t believe me?”

he scoffs, and you hear him walk closer to you by the way his voice gets louder. “did you really forget? you usually don’t forget anything at all.”

“well, this time i did.” you open the tap, staring intently at the water wash away the soap. “why are you asking?”

“i just think you’re lying.”

this time you scoff, finding it absurd that he’s telling you that. “why the hell would i lie to you?” is he really trying to argue with you right now? this early in the morning? the thought makes you angry.

jongho’s eyes widen the slightest bit when you turn around abruptly. you’re glaring at him, waiting for his next words, missing the fact his eyes are a shade darker than normal, like the color of obsidian, no hint of the usual brown in them. “kou told me he saw you with a man by the pharmacy at the corner. did you go on a date? did you even go to work yesterday?” the words spill from his lips before his mind even processes them.

“you’re kidding right?” when jongho stays silent, you dryly laugh. “jongho, are you even listening to yourself? you know i would never skip work: he’s too important. i work for kou, i work so i can pay the damn bills. did i go on a date? please,” the anger fades from your features, replaced by an odd calmness. “don’t make me laugh by asking stupid questions, jongho.”

“it’s not stupid,” he says, his gaze hard. “i was worried the whole time.”

“maybe you should stop worrying.”

jongho falters, blinking once, then tensing. “what?”

you shrug, “you heard me. maybe you shouldn't worry about me anymore.” you lift your hand and point at the door. “you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

you glance away. should you text him? apologize for what happened in the morning? or do you ignore him until you both forget about it? well, the third one isn’t the best to do right now, but—

the phone buzzes again, and you glance down just in time for the screen to show another message.

song mingi (womanizer? co worker): are you clocking in today?

“what?” you squint at the screen. “what is he talking about?”

another message pops up on your phone.

choi soobin (good co worker): i have sumn to tell you today ;/

choi soobin (good co worker): SHIT I DINT MEAN THAT

choi soobin (good co worker): I MEATN ;/

choi soobin (good co worker): WAITTTA3TTT

choi soobin (good co worker): I MEANT :/

you clear your throat.

choi soobin (good co worker): can i have a do over

choi soobin (good co worker): i need to redeem myself

you: have at it

choi soobin (good co worker): i have sumn to tell you today ;/

choi soobin: WAITITJITK

you: i’ll see you soon then

choi soobin: NO GIRL COME BACKKCKE GIMME ANOTHER CHANCE OLSSSS

“how silly,” you chuckle, checking the time.

jongho should be gone by now, hopefully already on his way home. there’s no way he’d wait out by the parking lot for you.

except he is, or rather, he just happens to be near the parking lot. when you spot him, walking down the path with two guys, you see that he’s staring intently at his phone. then, he looks up, as if he knew you were looking at him, and meets your gaze.

he leaves his friends behind, though they trail after him, and he's quickly in front of you, his other friends right next to him. jongho is rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish expression painting his features. “i—”

“you have got to be kidding me.”

a quick look to the right has your lips curling into a frown, seeing the redhead from days ago scowl at you. the redhead, wooyoung, glowers at you as if you’re some insect he can’t bare to look at, averting his gaze to the side and huffing. “just my damn luck…”

“well, you’re a rare sight around these grounds.”

you, jongho, and wooyoung snap your heads to the left: a man with black hair and cat-like features smiles at you. you’re about to bite back with a snarky comment on how he sounds like he’s talking in the medieval ages but with a modern twist, but wooyoung is quick to beat you to it.

“san,” wooyoung leans forwards to look at the male, “who the hell talks like that?”

san and wooyoung get into a heated argument, and you take this opportunity to step to the side and walk away with brisk steps, holding onto your bag with such strength your knuckles turns a shade paler. but you don’t make it far when jongho wraps a hand around your wrist. he’s gentle, afraid that one wrong movement will have you fleeing from him.

you look over your shoulder. “what?” your tone is harsher than what you wanted for it to sound, it has you wincing as your best friend grimaces.

his eyes, you note, are now it’s usual deep brown hue, though lighter now that the sun shines down. “i wanted to apologize for what happened this morning.”

his shoulders are tense while yours relax. you feel like a weight has been lifted off you now, like you can finally breathe. “you were an ass.”

“i know i was.”

“and you were being unreasonable.”

he huffs through his nose, the corners of his lips twitching. “you’re right.”

you swivel around and narrow your eyes at him. “and you were being weird. how the hell did you jump to the conclusion that i was seeing someone?”

jongho kicks a foot against the pavement of the sidewalk, looking down as if, suddenly, his shoes are the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “the… the demons inside me took over. like, literally.”

“the… demons?” you repeat, confused.

he looks up, looking sincere. “yeah… i just, i genuinely don't know what happened to me. the demons literally took over and i ended up losing my cool.” jongho pauses, eyes darkening for single second while he thinks, and turns his attention back to you, the usual deep brown back. “it must be the stress getting to me and i took it out on you in such a horrible way. i truly am sorry, y/n.”

he means it, you know he does. jongho taps a finger against the side of his leg, something he does when he's nervous.

“apology accepted.”

jongho brightens, “really?”

“yeah,” you smile, deadpanning the next second, “but no more pulling whatever the hell you pulled in the morning.”

“i promise that won’t happen again.” he beams, taking a step closer to you. his arms open up, and you huff through your nose and shake your head.

jongho’s hugs are always warm when you decide to indulge in them every once in a while. he never has a tight grip around you, it’s always gentle but firm. they’re nice and manage to ease your worries and whatever tension you have away.

“i’m sorry too, you know,” you mumble against the fabric of his hoodie. you realize then it’s the one you gave back to him yesterday by the smell of the expensive detergent mixed with that of the cologne he usually wears.

“what for?”

“i said some pretty hurtful things.”

“well, i deserved them.”

you don’t say anything else, instead closing your eyes and letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. that is, until someone decides to break this moment of tranquility.

“wait…” san points an accusing finger at jongho, who merely tilts his head in confusion. “don’t tell me…”

“what?” both jongho and wooyoung say.

“is she your girlfriend?”

“what?” the statement is so absurd that it has you reeling away from jongho, squinting your eyes at san like he just said something you can’t comprehend.

jongho lets his arms fall to his side. “no.”

“oh,” san breaks out into a smile. “you don’t mind if i steal her from you then?”

your best friend scoffs and ignores san. “listen,” he says, glancing at you. “stay away from those two. they’re… not very good people.”

“then why are you friends with them?” you watch jongho’s eyes widen.

“…it’s complicated,” he grumbles, “just—just don’t get too close to them.”

just don’t get too close to them. jongho’s words echo in your mind, the scene of him dragging both his friends away replaying over and over again. you never knew he was friends with people like them, and your mind can barely wrap around the sudden realization that you actually don’t know anything regarding jongho’s personal life.

there’s a tug at your hand that brings you back to the present, eyes falling down to the eleven year old holding it. “sis,” kou says, “we’re here.”

the book store you work at is right in front of you, the words ‘LUCID DREAMS BOOKSTORE’ in gold lettering staring back at you.

the doors chime when you push them open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose. kou lets go of your hand and runs away to his usual table, dropping his things on top and then disappearing into the fiction aisle.

you make your way to the back, reaching out for the handle when the door swings open.

“what are you doing here?”

“no ‘hello?’ no ‘how are you?’” mingi pouts and wipes a fake tear away. “do you hate me, yn?”

“no,” you reply, “but what are you doing here? we don't work the same shifts here.”

your shift buddy here is choi soobin, not song mingi.

mingi grins, “starting next week we will.”

“huh? what happened to soobin?”

the culprit himself comes out from the back, a pout on his lips. “screw this.” he grumbles, his once gloomy expression morphing into a happy one when he sees you. “ynie~”

“ynie?” mingi repeats, an eyebrow raised at soobin’s sudden change in behavior.

“yeah,” soobin says, giving him the nastiest side-eye you’ve ever seen. “because she’s my favorite co-worker and i’m hers, too.”

mingi looks at you with both his brows raised, shocked at the information. “for real?”

you shrug. “yeah,” you say, “soobin’s great to work with.”

“well not anymore,” mingi replies, smiling triumphantly as if he just won a prize.

“what?”

“yeah…” soobin drawls, looking away from your questioning gaze. “mingi and i switched shifts.”

“what—”

“—the hell is wrong with you?”

the door hits the wall with such frightening force that it leaves it broken with a dent. it's such a hideous thing to look at, the dent, that is. it stands out against the other pristine, white walls.

“i assume you’ll be fixing that,” seonghwa looks through the mirror in front of him at jongho, his eyes a deep maroon color, completely different to the bright red coating his lips. “right?”

jongho glares angrily at him, watching as the older male leans down, gripping the neck of the poor girl next to him. the platinum blond opens his mouth, his canines enlarging and about to pierce a new spot.

“tell her to leave.”

seonghwa stops, and his eyes turn into the hue of a ruby. “clean yourself up, bandage your neck. then you will leave this place and forget about it. today never happened.”

the girl stands up, eyes glazed over as seonghwa hands her a cloth and gauze, wiggling his fingers at her as she leaves silently. jongho hears him mumble something about killing her later as an extra precaution.

“what is it that you want, jongho?” he asks, grabbing a napkin from beside him and dabs the blood away from his lips, his eyes going to maroon and then a dark brown. “you interrupted my feeding.”

in the next second, jongho stands in front of him. seonghwa looks at him through his eyelashes, clearly unimpressed with his attitude. “well? you ought to spit out whatever is wrong before my patience wears thin.”

“you had no right to do that.”

seonghwa’s lips curl upwards into a wicked grin, eyes reflecting the amusement he feels. “ah,” he says, “so that's what this is about.”

he continues to speak at jongho’s silent rage. “i was just testing my hypnosis. i guess my theory is correct,” seonghwa doesn't falter when the collar of his white button up is fisted and he is made to lean forwards, “seeing as how it worked on you to some extent.”

“you had no right to do that,” jongho repeats. “absolutely no right.”

his thin fingers wrap around his wrists, tugging them off in one swift gesture. “i don’t understand why you’re so upset at me.”

at this, jongho scoffs, eyes blown wide from the fury that almost blinds him. “don’t understand?” he laughs through his nose, “you don’t understand why i’m so upset? i could’ve lost her because of you charming me!” he falters, the anger replaced by fear at the dangerous glimmer in seonghwa’s delighted eyes.

“so it’s a girl,” he hums. “who you care for the most. i thought it would’ve been hongjoong, maybe even yeosang.”

“don’t ever charm me again.” jongho backs away and crosses his arms over his chest. “don’t think about seeking her out either.”

“i’m not curious enough to do that to your little human,” seonghwa shrugs, “i don’t have enough time for that.”

“then why charm me at all?”

seonghwa smiles, “yunho suggested it.”

“what?”

“he told me i should try charming you to see if it works on you, told me to charm you into hurting the one you most care about.”

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BLOODY HELL | yuyusuyu 2024

[kushami-hime]

Yo! I was imagining a scenario where dragon king bakugou receives a mysterious gift box which reads "come closer to me and you will see" and as he moves that box closer to his face that box opens and sprays fae dust all over his nose and the reaction is so quick that he drops the box and begins sneezing like crazy and somehow due to that fall the off spray button gets broken so...the scene unfolds like this...bakugou cant stop sneezing..fae dust keeps on spraying..and we (half blood servant) cant stop staring 👁👄👁..although he is almost yelling at us to do something but we really dont want him to stop...also i love it when the nose is so irritated that there are rapid ,desperate, mini sneezes before the actual mega sneeze..so can you write some headcannons or probably a whole fic based on this one..that would be really appreciated^v^ hime

This ask has been in my inbox for like a year and I WANTED to write it but never found time or motivation to. Well! Ive been shadowbanned and IDK how long itll be until its fixed (Tumblr Support get off your ass already) so until then, here we go! First fic in ages!

Surprise!

Dragon King! Fantasy! Bakugou & Half Dragon! Servant! Y/N

CW: Servant! Reader, Master & Servant roles, fantasy setting, sneezy angry B/akugou, K/iri being a good boy, Submissive Listener, one mention of fictional slavery, closeted snzfucker! reader

As usual all characters are aged up to 18+!

"Mm. This is…odd." 

Before you, was a box. A small, wooden thing. Could have held jewelry or coin inside from the shape of it. You weren't an expert in these things but the ever knowledgeable King B/akugou was one to educate you when it came to the outside world and all its inhabitants. Curiouser and curiouser. 

Without so much as a messenger or even a carrier pigeon, this box had been left at the doorstep of his majesty's southern palace, deep within the mountains where no mortal dare venture. You peaked out into the open, looked left and right, and even in the clouds for some sort of clue…but there was not a soul! The only thing stuck to this small box, was a letter sealed shut by a stamp meant for royalty. And surely you, a mere dragon half blood, were not going to anger his majesty by rooting through a package that was meant for his eyes only. That man's anger knew no bounds. 

“Hey! Y/N!” A familiar voice caught your ear, belonging to a tall and muscular dragon shifter. His ruby colored eyes looked you up and down with warmth. “Oh, K/irishima. I received this for his majesty but…there was no courier.” You said, caressing the box in your hands. K/irishima pursed his lips into a thoughtful pout, before noticing the wax seal, “Must be important if it’s got that seal on it.” Better get it to B/akugou quickly, in case he’s expecting it!” He advised. Right! You’d rather not keep his majesty waiting, especially if it was something direly important, and especially so, if there was a time limit. With a quick bow you tucked the mysterious chest under your arm and quickened your pace, only to find his majesty lazing away in his parlor room. With his strong body laid down over a soft looking fur rug, his vermillion eyes gazed over a book he didn’t seem all too interested in. You knew that look…the Dragon King was bored stiff. You almost made the mistake of walking right in without announcing your presence. 

With a free hand you smoothed out your apron before speaking up, “Ahem…your majesty.” Your voice came across as meak, and your long tail curled behind your form. He gazed towards you, waiting to hear what you had to say. “A package has arrived for you.” You said simply, holding the box in your hands. A flicker of interest crossed his usually irritated features as he sat up, and held a hand out. “And who’s it from?” He asked, his tone still as dull as his mood. You hesitated for a moment as you wondered over, “I…um…I do not know.” You admitted, avoiding his eyes as you stared down at the box. “Hah?” His brows furrowed, “What do you mean you don’t know? Someone MUST have handed it to you.” He stared at you while you shook your head. “No, your majesty. When I exited the main gate, I couldn’t find anyone. Not a soul.” You admitted. His lips pursed into a familiar scowl, “Give it here.” He almost snatched it from your hands, which he dwarfed with his own. “Mm?” He grazed the seal with his fingertips and jumped to his feet, taking a seat at a nearby table to get a better look at the surprise package. You followed suit as he removed the sealed parchment. Again, his brows furrowed, but with concern. You thought of the worst. A declaration of war? An old enemy announcing their return? Perhaps greedy humans who wished to raid his castle for the endless supply of gold he’d been hoarding over the course of his elongated life? Your hands tampered with the hem of your apron as you watched your master open the letter. You didn't even notice that you'd been holding your breath.

“Come closer to me, and you will see…the hell is that supposed to mean…?” He already seemed irate. “Perhaps a riddle…?” You offered your input, but Bakugou simply scoffed at the notion. With a glance towards the box, he took off whatever brown string was left to hold it closed, and picked it up to look inside. But what happened next was…well, unexpected to say the least.

A shimmering cloud of dust erupted from the box, and enveloped your master, coating him in a layer of glittering gold right down to his bare neck and shoulders. A gasp escaped your lungs as you watched the box clatter to the floor, the lid snapping off. Even then, it continued to gradually release the golden dust into the room, and all over the floor, like an ornate fountain. Bakugou snarled, gasping for clean air as his calloused hands tried to wipe away the dust covering his face. A slew of curses waterfalled from his lips while you panicked and attempted to clean up the mess. 

“Y-your majesty! Are you alright? I-I’ll try to…-Oh…oh nono this is…” It was easy to tell just from the smell, and the way it felt in your hand. This was not just dust. This was fae pollen. And after the interesting trip into the fae woods but a fortnight ago, realization caught up quick. Almost as quickly as Bakugou’s breath began to hitch. It all happened so quickly you could barely gather your thoughts before he’d started sneezing. His chest muscles bulged before he snapped forward with a powerful explosion, which sent more of the fae pollen flying through the air and traveling to every corner of the room. All you could think of to do was to snatch your apron off, and rush to his side to start wiping away whatever pollen was on his bare skin. He didn’t fight you on this, as he was busy fighting with his nose instead. 

“Hh-! Hh-EeDD’ZZSsshUUu!! Hii-IItt’SSHhhuuOOo!!” He wouldn’t dare sniffle, knowing damn well it’d make things worse. His mouth fell open, and his sharp nose twitched with a pink hue spreading to his flaring, itchy nostrils, “HHh-ISSHHHuuOO!! H-Hh-ESZzZZshhUuu! Hh–hHZzcHH’CHuue!” His muscles spasmed under your touch. “Y-your majesty…a-are you…-!?” His red eyes were hazy with tears that threatened to break free and roll down his cheeks. The flush across his cheeks was, dare you say, a lovely shade. And the more he sneezed, the pinker and pinker his slender nostrils became. The bridge of his nose furrowed harshly while his eyebrows pressed together.

“Hh-EeeSSHHUUuuee!! G–Ghh–IDZZzSSHuuuee!! G…rid…of–! HH-InNxXnN–Uuughh!! Uu-HHrr-ESsHHUUuooo!!” A fine mist shot from his mouth and nose and into the air, mingling with the fine particles of fae pollen that tickled and tortured your master, practically bringing him to his knees. “Hh-!” His teeth bared as he bent at the waist into his elbow, “HKK’GnnNNT! HH-KNNXXxt!!” Two rather painful stifles came from him, resulting in a pained groan. 

“M-master you’ll hurt yourself if you do that…” The words escaped before you could even stop him. Truth be told, you adored seeing the Dragon King sneeze. To see such a strong and unstoppable force of nature be brought down by fae dust was a joy to watch…and practically a pleasure. A mix between a snarl and a snort came from him as his unfocused, hazy red eyes stared you down, “T-tha-Hh-! Hh’IHTssSShhchu’uh…!! Is…an – Hh-!” Bakugou panted helplessly, covering his mouth and nose with his shaky hands, “ Hh’GNxxT-Chew…Hh-HaH’ETSSHhhuuoo!! NOW! Half bre-Hh-EdDdsshuu!! Ha-Hhh-Half b-...bree-EE’EsSHHuu! -Hahh-! e’SShhuuooOO!!” His fingers glistened with wetness from his fit, and you could see it dropping to the floor. Your heart quickened in pace before you picked up the still overflowing box. You didn’t know any magic! How were you supposed to stop this!? All the while, B/akugou is clutching the edge of the table behind you, bracing as this hellish fit of sneezing wracks him to his very core. As you stared back at him, even his toned abs convulsed and twitched with each hitching breath and explosion. Big and small, long and short, you’d never seen him afflicted in such a way. By this point he was using your apron to save whatever dignity he had left. “Hh-! AaESSsHHuuuee!! IsshhUu! ISSH’UUuu! Hh-Hih-!! HehH’ESSHHUUuooo!! DAMN it!!” You could tell, if he ever managed to find out who sent this thing, they were going to die by his hand. 

No matter how hard you tried to put the lid back on, it was as if a switch had been flipped and was broken off. You panicked, wondering if his majesty would release his anger onto you instead of the prankster who caused him so much anguish. But, as luck would have it…the gods were on your side. Amidst all of B/akugous sneezing, the commotion had alerted K/irishima, who rushed into the room. His usual peppy smile was traded in for an agape mouth. “W–...??” He was utterly flabbergasted, but that was understandable. Before you could utter a word, Bakugou beat you to it. 

“S-Shitty s-Sca–AAhh’HHssHHuu!! IssHHeewww!! T-the b-Oo’-...Box-! EsSZZsshhuuu!” You could feel the wet spray from his breathless sneezes hitting the back of your neck and your tail. It sent a shudder down your spine that anyone would have noticed. It didn’t take long for Kirishima to realize what had happened. He rushed to your side and picked up the box, before whistling for a few of your colleagues. “Get this thing as far away from here as possible! Choke it with a counter spell if you have to, just get it outta here and get this mess cleaned up, OK?” Even while barking orders, E/ijirou still managed to sound pleasant and kind. The others quickly whisked away the dangerous box as a few stayed behind to try and help clean up the mess. And with that covered, you rose to your feet to rush to B/akugou’s side.

“HHhdt-EssZZSShhhuuuoOOo!” Your head snapped to the side as you were coated in his majesty’s discharge. The spray was cool on your skin but nevertheless…a bit uncalled for. A pitiful moan escaped from Bakugou’s wrecked throat, before he snapped forward again, “Hh-HHDZzSShhuuuooOOO!!” Again, enveloping you in spray, for which he had no intention of apologizing for. His nostrils stung as the source of his agony was finally removed from his presence, before you pulled a clean handkerchief from your pocket and offered it to him. “B-blessings, your majesty…” You croaked, watching as he snatched the cloth from you and blew his nose into it quite messily. He was indeed upset…K/irishima sighed, “Well…Guess we should find out just who sent that little care package, huh?” He grinned nervously, watching B/akugou’s shoulders quake. “HH…Hahh–IDSShh! HhETtSSHHhuuuuooo!! The goddamn NERVE…” Smoke rose from his mouth, “K/irishima…start tracking down every damned fae folk you can find…” He seethed, his nose still eagerly dripping into the now filthy hankderchief. 

“When I find the worthless BASTARD who did this…I’ll wipe him off the face of this Earth…Not even the GODS will be able to SAVE him!!” He turned around, eyes burning with unbridled rage. It almost scared you. His right hand man quickly bowed, “Yes, my King! At once!” He took the hint, and quickly fled the room. Now, it was only the two of you, and the remaining servants. 

“And YOU.” Instinct took over, and you immediately went down onto hands and knees, bowing to him. “I sincerely apologize for my hesitation, Master. It will never happen again.” B/akugou had been kind enough to liberate you from poachers and slavers of enchanted folk, and the last thing you wanted to do was to make him mad enough to throw you back where he plucked you from. A wet snort came from him before he sniffled, rubbing his exhausted nostrils which squelched at the touch. “...I’ll find a fitting punishment for you. Now stand. And get this MESS cleaned up!!” He spat, hiding his still tickling nose behind the well used cloth, “Hh-Hh’EssHHH!!” He groaned, "And for Gods' sake, bring me another damned handkerchief..." With that, he'd left the room. His loud sneezes echoed from the corridor even after he'd slammed the door behind him. It could have gone much worse, but as you helped the others contain the remaining fae pollen…your mind began to race…just what kind of punishment did the dragon king have in store for you…?

[darsynia]

Day Eight, Part II

(MCU; Stephen Strange/OC, 'mistrust' to lovers)

gif from @doctorstrangegifsparadise

Summary: Stephen Strange is settling into his new post as master of the New York Sanctum, and he's noticed quite a few people are hanging around the building lately. Is someone sending them or are New Yorkers just enjoying the spring thaw? Somehow the pretty loiterer he confronts is chosen by a Babylonian relic within minutes of stepping into the Sanctum. Is she a spy trained in the mystic arts?

Length: 4,198

My Masterlist | Animate Objects | Link to Part I

I'm so grateful to @sobeautifullyobsessed for inspiring this series! I apologize again that the odd tumblr shadowban hid your response from me. I'll watch this like a hawk this time! Your response meant the WORLD.

Tags (feel free to ask!): @starryeyes2000 💚

Day Eight, Part II

Stephen’s sense of duty was what kept him as the Master of the New York sanctum, but it was his sense of wonder that kept it interesting. As the season changed from winter to spring, though, his patience started wearing thin.

The Sanctum had an array of defenses, from magic wards to surveillance cameras, and it was the latter that revealed a new possible threat. Random people of all sorts had started to linger outside. Each night since then, there were multiple triggers in the protection spells around the Sanctum. 

Pattern recognition was a tool of diagnosis, something he excelled at in multiple spheres. Here, though, there was no common element between types of people that he could see. One day it would be a harried-looking business woman in heels. Another day it was a pair of teenagers with a basketball. The day after that had three different visitors, one of which had made it a point to put out their cigarette in the very center of the stairway.

It wasn’t like he could ask his dead predecessor, but when Stephen casually mentioned the issue to Wong, his friend had decided to visit (actually visit, rather than just portaling in and out a few times. He’d set up in a guest room, and Stephen was going to miss him when he left, because he was a damned good cook). The two of them agreed that it was likely just a surge of New Yorkers enjoying the unseasonably warm spring weather, but if it wasn’t, they shouldn’t ignore it.

Yesterday, Wong had gone out to walk the streets looking terribly busy and see what he could observe. He’d returned an hour and a half later with a cake in a bag and absolutely no insights about their predicament.

Today, Wong was the most unhelpful he’d been yet, because the first thing he said to Stephen was, “It’s supposed to rain most of the day, maybe no one will show up.”

It was a habit to eat lunch in the converted linen closet that served as the surveillance room and go over the recordings. The room just held a modem at first, but a good deal of the protective spells they used flat-out didn’t work on mundane threats like nosy urban explorers and thieves. Stephen almost didn’t go today because, as Wong had pointed out, it was raining hard enough to discourage most loiterers.

Most-- but not all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, leaning forward and rewinding the corner cam. It was the woman he’d seen midweek, the one who’d mutely stared at him with her wide hazel eyes before calling him pretty. Of all the random encounters he had when he left the building, he would never have expected to see her again.

Stephen frowned at himself. The thing that was memorable about her wasn’t her eyes, it was the fact that she’d almost been flattened in the street! He hadn’t even known she was there, it was the Cloak who’d stopped her, for which he was grateful. Now he felt almost used, like she’d known of his sentient relic and exploited both of them to make some kind of connection she was now cashing in on.

He wasn’t going to stand for it.

When he got to the front door, Stephen walked right past the ancient parasol relic that was resting helpfully in the umbrella stand and instead cast some spells to keep the rain from bothering him. Either his unwelcome visitor would reveal her knowledge of what went on at the sanctum, or she would be unnerved. Either reaction would give him useful information.

He shoved the door open, his expression of stern disapproval nearly waverering when he saw her tip her head up into the rain and spin in a circle. She was wearing a skirt that twirled out in a charming way, giving him a glimpse of shapely legs above her stylish boots.

“What is it that you want?” he asked, annoyed as much at his own distraction as he was about her presence there at all. Behind him, the Cloak was nudging at his knees in a way that made him adjust his stance in case he needed to cast something.

The way the rain intensified as he spoke to her made Stephen even more suspicious. If he were trying to ingratiate himself to someone, setting them up to save his life and then showing up bedraggled and rain soaked would be a strategy to lower their guard. The question was whether she was a pawn, a queen, or the chess master.

One way to find out would be to get her inside the Sanctum’s protection. The inherent magic there prevented mystical eavesdropping, and if she were wired for sound, the devices wouldn’t react well to the rain.

She was waiting for an answer, and Stephen couldn’t remember what she’d said. “No,” he bit out.

“Sorry, which question of mine was that in answer to?” she asked, tipping her head to the side. The polka-dotted headband she wore slid back, soaked, and a lock of hair splotched against her cheek.

“Both,” he said-- “Neither,” he corrected. “What--” he started, infusing his tone with as much sternness as he could.

He needn’t have bothered. She was busy attempting to open an umbrella that couldn’t have cost more than a dollar, for all its utility. Just like the rain’s effect on the small amount of form-fitting blouse he could see under her raincoat, Stephen suspected it was a deliberate distraction. He felt a stirring of rebellious excitement; there was something quite intellectually stimulating about being challenged. Stephen really missed that part of diagnosis and surgery.

With that in mind, he firmed up the tentative decision he’d made minutes earlier and invited her inside. If nothing else, she’d probably come up with some more outrageous commentary, and he could spar with Wong later about his impulsiveness.

Stephen positioned himself as a disappointed authority figure and pressed his lips together, waiting. Most people were uncomfortable with silence in such situations, and their reactions often revealed much about their motivations. Add to that the social stigma of deception, the weight of wrongdoing, and silence was condemnatory.

All he needed to do was wait.

Unfortunately, the room was not silent. It was filled with various sounds of dripping.

There was no chance in any dimension he was going to leave her alone in the sanctum, so Stephen grabbed a towel via a portal, just like he did on days when just one wasn’t enough. He didn’t warm it for her, though.

“Why am I not surprised it’s black?” she quipped as she reached out. Her wet skirt clung to her thighs in a way he absolutely should not have noticed, and Stephen shifted his gaze away.

Just as relying solely on magical security had left them vulnerable to brute force robbery attempts, he’d left himself open to forgetting what it was like to be around someone beautifully ordinary. Even that observation was suspect, and his impatience flared forth, burning away such things as wondering what she’d look like when she wasn’t in extremis-- soaking wet, furious, or in shock. On a whim, he cast a drying spell sequence, firmly telling himself it was to strip away her use of being utterly bedraggled as a means to manipulate.

“You tell whoever keeps hiring lost-looking spies to come down here and face me themselves! Just because they picked someone young and attractive this time doesn’t mean I’m any more inclined to tell you anything!”  Stephen winced inwardly at what his words gave away, but kept his expression firm.

“Well!” she fumed, “I didn’t come here to be complimented by the likes of you!” With that, his perplexing visitor stomped over to the umbrella stand and picked up the Tsasilli of Semiramis.

With a gesture, he shifted the door handle to a different dimension. “That was masterful,” Stephen admitted. “Bring it back, please.” To skip past some of the pretense, he rose a few feet into the air, with the help of the Cloak. He might have just as easily lifted up on anticipation.

Instead of admitting to her subterfuge, though, the young woman seemed befuddled, accusing him once again of engaging in some kind of reality show trickery. It galled him, the way she’d lit on the exact kind of thing he didn’t want to be associated with. It was one thing to be called a magician by the ignorant. It was another to be accused of--

Stephen looked around in alarm. He was much closer to her than he’d intended, drawn forward by the Cloak itself, it seemed. In the woman’s hand, the Babylonian relic seemed to elongate, changing its appearance once again, this time into a kind of Sherlockian contraption. The damned thing was wily, even restless lately, employing its particular penchant for shapeshifting to infuriating effect.

“How are you doing this?” the woman whispered, eyes wide, hand trembling.

“I’m not,” he admitted.

Her face twisted, and she opened her hand to drop it. Instead of falling to the floor, the relic sped through a shift, arcing over her arm just in time to hang there, suspended and smug.

In a throbbing deadpan, his visitor said, “I’d like to faint dead away, please.”

Stephen was forced to shove off with a runic blaze of golden light, as Cloak tugged him to within inches of her. “Oh, will you--” he muttered, reaching up to unfasten the Cloak and set it aside, where it hovered in thwarted frustration. He saw her search the ceiling for some kind of wire installation. Still dedicated to the bit, he thought wryly. Probably an aspiring actress. “It wouldn’t help.”

“I--” she shook her head.

“Fainting. You strike me as the sort who wants to be awake and affecting things, rather than passed out with the world resolving its issues without you.”

Her expression warmed at this, her crooked smile just shy of self-deprecating. “I’m usually the one resolving issues, so that is a good point. Speaking of which…” She grasped the umbrella and lifted it off of her arm. The stiff, jerky movement smoothed when the relic didn’t cling to her, but Stephen was unprepared for what she did next.

Stepping close to him, she reached out and took his right wrist with her free hand, confident but not rough. “In lieu of passing out, I’ll pass this back to you,” she said, pressing the middle of the disguised umbrella into his palm. Her position meant that the warmth of her wrist and forearm heated the back of his hand before she let go and stepped back.

“Just like that?” he asked. That the question had a double meaning was hopefully hidden from her, because Stephen was shaken. Clearing his throat, he pushed forward the part of himself that always seemed to set people on edge, the confidence that sometimes spiked up into arrogance. “Are you that confident you’ll get it back from me? After all that hard work?”

He dropped his right hand to his side. It stung. For her part, the woman looked almost hurt, her full lips curved down as she grabbed the loose sides of her raincoat to tighten the garment around herself protectively. Suddenly, he let out a pained noise and let go of the Tsasilli, which furled open to prevent itself from clattering flat to the floor. He stepped back and rubbed his palm with his other hand, looking down when it slid too readily.

There was a bright smear of blood on his thumb.

“Okay, I draw the line at your bloodthirsty parasol. I’m going to need you to reconjure that doorknob now,” the young woman said fiercely, swinging her shoulder bag over and clutching it to her chest like a talisman. 

“The doorknob is still there, and the umbrella is not mine. It belonged to the Babylonian queen Semiramis,” he said, just to see what face she’d make.

She didn’t. She turned her back on him and fished something out of her shoulder bag, twisting it into a bright beam of light shining directly on the place the handle would be.

“Oh,” she said.

He walked over to stand beside her, adjusting for the Cloak as it levitated along beside. “You expected a shadow.”

“Yes.”

“I sent it somewhere that wouldn’t cast a shadow here.” He gestured, and the crystal fractures of the Mirror Dimension slowly unfolded out like origami, widening to reveal the door handle. The beam of her flashlight wavered with her honest surprise. It was clear by her expression that she'd never seen anything like that before. Stephen felt certain he would have been able to tell.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you, mister…”

He turned toward her, saw she was twisting her hands together in distress, and took pity, despite himself. “Doctor. My name is Doctor Strange. Stephen,” he said, adding his name at the end as a concession to the way her brows furrowed at the first two monikers. 

“Amy,” she said, her jaw tightening obstinately. “I came back because I was curious, that’s all. I wanted to--” She cut off, suddenly engrossed in turning off her flashlight and putting it away. “Curiosity killed the cat, as they say-- or will you debunk that one for me, as well?”

“It was originally ‘Care killed the cat,’ not curiosity. More about a shouldered burden than inquisitiveness,” he obliged. Stephen did not share the part of the phrase that was sometimes included, that ‘satisfaction brought it back.’ He was far too disconcerted to allow thoughts like that to stray into the visible.

“Well, that’s certainly applicable,” she sighed, all of her vigor melting away. “This has been the most unusual day, but my lunch hour is over and I’m officially late for work. What must I do, Stephen, for you to let me go?”

The words were spoken in a soft, almost sad voice, but they sliced him, slipping past the suspicion, dodging his annoyance, making it through the layers of magical and mental armor he wore daily to sink into his chest and vibrate there. Defensive, he stepped back and bowed toward the door with a flourish the Cloak was happy to expand on.

“Nothing,” he said, avoiding speaking her name at the very last minute. “I’ve learned all I need to know, today.” It was a discomfiting lie.

“I won’t shake your hand,” she said warily. “Everything I’ve touched in here hasn’t been what it seemed. All but you. You, sir, are exactly what you seem.”

With that odd statement, she pulled her shoulder bag higher onto her shoulder and took one step toward the door.

If Stephen hadn’t been faced the way he was, he would have missed it. The Cloak had been drifting seemingly aimlessly beside him through their conversation, but now it moved, the fluttering edges catching on the thrice-damned Babylonian relic and spinning it toward his anxious guest. Because she was facing the door, she was completely unprepared when the Cloak gusted forward, nudging the thing just far enough to catch on her ankle.

She was going to fall, and if he didn’t catch her, she wouldn’t be in a fit state to walk home in the rain, and he’d be stuck in suspicious limbo for the rest of the afternoon. That was the thought that set off Stephen’s temper as he lunged forward to thrust out his arm for her to steady herself.

They paused there, she in a half-fall arrested by his outstretched arm, he with a million frustrated thoughts spinning out from their point of contact. 

“I’ve always hated Renaissance Faires. Is this my penance?” she whispered, as if the umbrella hooked around her ankle might take offense.

“Oh no. It’s clearly mine,” he snapped. Stephen leaned over, about to grab the relic when he realized it would probably develop spikes in retaliation. Seconds later he’d slid on his sling ring and had opened a portal directly behind the unfurled umbrella. “You want to try me?” he asked it.

The Tsasilli of Semiramis shrank in response, becoming comically disproportionate, with its handle still curved around Amy’s ankle.

Stephen whirled around. “Did you have something to do with this?” he demanded of the Cloak. It drifted over to float behind Amy. “That’s a ‘yes.’ All right,” he said, frustratedly pinching his brow. 

It was clear that the relic had ‘chosen’ her, but that made it all but impossible for her to be anything but exactly what he’d initially thought: a trainee if not gifted in the Mystic Arts, there to spy on the Sanctum for some nefarious purpose.

“For what it’s worth, I’m pretty freaking terrified right now,” Amy said conversationally.

“Sure you are,” he snapped. “Look, all facades aside, I’m not letting you walk out of here with a relic of that value. I have it on good authority that they choose wisely, but I don’t have all that many data points on that score.” It was childish, but Stephen shot a censuring look at the Cloak. It was undaunted.

“Okay, you’re throwing around a lot of language you clearly think I ought to recognize, and nothing I say seems to be convincing. I tell you what, how about I pretend I’m at work? That’s where I ought to be right now anyway.” 

“What is your job, when you’re not moonlighting as a spy and a thief?”

She didn’t even take offense. “Crisis management.” Amy chuckled. “This whole thing where you think one thing and I know another? I’m used to that. I’m a mediator. I take a crisis and smooth out the rough spots.” She took a deep breath and let it out, frowning down at the Tsasilli. “Ninety seconds, we explain what we think is going on. No interruptions. The second person isn’t allowed to make their answer a response to the first person. Would you like to go first?”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked in a low, triumphant voice, fully convinced of her deception, now. “I must insist: ladies first.”

Her shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, and she pressed her lips together. “All right, then. I’m an office worker on a walk during lunch. Ran into a caped crusader, got curious, and walked this way again today, just so I could see whether you work at a costume warehouse or something.” She looked around for a few seconds, then crossed her arms and lifted her chin, eyes blazing with challenge. “I’m still not all that convinced. My bet is that you’ve got your hands on some illegal Chitauri tech and you’re bored as hell. I have yet to see anything that convinces me you’re not a very well put together mischief maker, and I dislike being the only adult in the room. Your turn?”

Whoever was pulling this woman’s strings had implanted a wide swathe of inferiority about the Mystic Arts, Stephen decided. Almost every subtle jab she’d thrown out had been to imply that his abilities were rooted in trickery, in deception. It was meant to offend him, and it did, but he also thought it was rather revelatory. He planned on ignoring all save one.

“Capes have hoods. This is a Cloak." With that taken care of, he shifted to a deliberately mocking tone, so she could report as much to her superiors. "I am the Master of this sanctum, which stands as a bulwark against many threats, from this dimension and beyond. I think that you are merely one in a long line of velociraptors sent to test the fences here, which I find annoying, rather than threatening. What I can’t decide is whether you’re versed in the Mystic Arts. In any case, your playacting grows tiresome. I am not here to watch a middle school performance. The relic is a complication, but it’s not going to offer you any legitimacy.” He took a giant step toward her and ended up inches away, looking down into her wide, startled eyes. “Give up.”

“You think I’m a--” she blurted, eyes flitting from his face to the Eye of Agamotto on his chest, to his shoulders, and back up. “That explains a lot, actually. You know, I thought you were the actor? What with the whole…” Her cheeks flushed and her lips twitched to the side, her hands making an encompassing sort of gesture from head to toe. “But you’re saying this is, for lack of a better phrase, more Attack on New York stuff, not Broadway?”

“Broadway!” he objected, frowning. Stepping back would be giving ground, but not moving away was also dangerous. She was charismatic, this woman. Whoever had sent her had chosen well.

“There are very reputable plays on Broadway, you know,” Amy murmured. “Though the costuming…”

She made to step back but stumbled, and he once again hovered both hands out on either side of her upper arms, loathe to touch-- or so he told himself.

“Call off your rottweiler, or whatever you call it, will you?” she fumed. “I’m barely a week into my promotion and I like my job, something you clearly do not! I’d like to think I’ve been very patient with all this shit.”

At that, the Tsasilli of Semiramis shifted anew, releasing her ankle and growing again. This time, its colors bloomed, and it furled open, displaying one of the most beautiful combinations of fabric colors and patterning he’d ever seen.

It was almost like the damned thing’s version of puppy dog eyes.

“It’s called the Tsasilli of Semiramis, and I’m sorry to say, it seems to have imprinted on you. Evidence, I might add, of your lies. Relics would not choose someone without affinity to the Mystic Arts,” he said.

To his annoyance, she burst into laughter. “I’m sorry, I believe you about the whole mystic thing, I can’t not, right now, but--” Amy pulled out a cloth handkerchief from somewhere in her long sleeve and wiped her nose with it. “It’s really hard to take this all seriously when you can’t come up with a name that doesn’t literally have the word silly in it!”

“It’s Akkadian. Means ‘parasol,’” he gritted out. “It doesn’t much matter what you believe, Miss--” Stephen cut himself off. Her use of his name had knocked him off balance, but he felt strongly that if he used hers, he’d tip further. “You can’t leave with it, but I don’t think it’ll let you leave without some indication that you’ll return, which plays right into your hands, doesn’t it?”

“I’d certainly have considered paying Broadway ticket prices for such an experience, if I weren’t at risk of losing my job,” she shot back. “But, you know what? Here.”

Amy pulled open her raincoat and dug her fingers into the high collar of her vintage blouse, coming away with a chain which she followed to its clasp. Her movements were brisk and angry, and he saw that the chain held a locket of beautiful craftsmanship, obviously valuable. With a steely vulnerability, she pushed her open hand toward him, offering the locket.

“This means the world to me. More than anything else I own. Our office is closed tomorrow for pipework on our suite. I can come first thing in the morning, and we can work out whatever bullshit you need from me to prove that I am who I say I am. Until then, I’ll let you hold onto this.” She swallowed, her hand shaking. “But believe me, I know some pretty powerful people, and if you don’t give it back…”

“I don’t think you understand what’s at play, here--” Stephen began. His tone wasn’t as forceful as he’d have liked; her display was compelling, and he didn’t want to take something so valuable from her. He shouldn’t want anything from her.

Behind him, the Cloak floated up to clasp around his neck, tugging him toward her with the left-most corner swooping up to quite obviously caress Amy’s proffered hand. On the floor between them, the Babylonian relic fluttered open and closed twice, shifting its color to match the same silver tones as her locket.

“It seems that would be acceptable,” Stephen forced himself to say.

to be continued in 'Diminished Seventh'