#I'd give almost anything to be normal so that maybe someone could love me without the looming BPD shaped sword of damocles hanging overhead

[neopolitan-noir]

.

#i fucking hate myself tonight #i keep trying to not beat myself up about like...having feelings #but what happened sucks #being alone sucks #and my brain isnfighting me every second I try and just exist #i keep thinking im not WORTH being in anyones life #and i know i have people who care about me my brain is just fucking broken and it doesnt want to believe them #i don't want to feel sick to my stomach anymore when instaty having feelings #I'm so scared #i want to give up i really do #i can finally pick up my new meds today so maybe sleep and those working into my system will help #i need them to so fucking bad #i keep trying to fix myself and i keep getting reminded that its not been enough no matter how much i improve #I'd give almost anything to be normal so that maybe someone could love me without the looming BPD shaped sword of damocles hanging overhead #i feel fucking stupid for even being upset about this #but whatever #sleep then breakfast then meds then just take everything minute to minute one day at a time #i can do this #i can fucking do this

[gotham-daydreams]

Hi im so sorry if this has been asked before but in your not series, which i absolutely adore by the way, Since Alfred getting the batfam to see the videos and investigate is what kicked the batfam off on their yandere domino effect, what would have happened if y/n kept in contact with Alfred and only Alfred? Maybe giving him little updates, nothing that could really be tracked but enough to tell them how everything is going maybe like through letters with no return address or something. would he still have done what he did? Or would we still have something else to kick the batfam off on their yandere mode, or would they just never realize that the y/n was gone?

Hello!

Considering what happens in the series and everything- I'd say that Alfred still would try to get the Batfam to look for Y/n. Since, well, I'll let you on a tiny little secret; Y/n did sort of do something like that, but its gotten to a point where there is less 'character', and it's more to the point. It's almost as if Y/n is trying to further distance themselves from the family altogether, and I wonder why they'd go and do something like that 🤔

Though- for the sake of the ask, let's say that all of that has yet to happen, and Y/n has been pretty good about sending letters and such. Alfred would be happier than he is in the series, I'll say that much, but ultimately I think he'd still eventually send out the Batfam to look for Y/n.

This is because Alfred wants to talk with Y/n, and I think I may have mentioned this in another ask- but he basically doesn't want to have to further deal with this "one sided nonsense" as I believe I put it. With no return address, or really anything to go off of location wise- even if he did write something back (and he has), then there would be no way he could send it to Y/n. Not to mention that over the months Y/n has been gone did he get more... greedy as he began to miss them.

Yes the letters are nice, and he does deeply appreciate and love how they're trying to keep in contact with him and only him by using such means, but that ultimately isn't enough for him. He wants to talk with them too, he wants to communicate, and most of all- he just wants to see them again. (Which, that in itself includes a bit more than just simply seeing Y/n, but that's for later.)

He wants to be in their presence again, and just... bond and talk with them without the pen and paper. He wants things to go 'back to normal' in that way, since he doesn't necessarily care if Y/n stays in the manor or not (he does, but he can look past it under certain conditions), he just wants to see them. A want which can develop into an obsessive need- kind of like how it does in the series.

Really, the way to have a happy Alfred that won't send the fam after your ass, is to honestly just visit him once in a while. Which, in itself may be a bit hard if you don't like the Batfam, and aren't willing to even risk them seeing you in the slightest, or just generally aren't comfortable in the Manor at this point. But even if it's just helping him out a bit in the garden, or generally with outside work, or sneaking in just to snag a snack he left out, then he'll be a significantly happier camper that won't manipulate and guilt trip the rest of the family to come and bring you back home. Not right away, anyways.

Just make sure he doesn't ever know if you get hurt or something. Especially if you got hurt at home or because of someone close to you. The intention will hardly matter to Alfred, believe me. The happier you keep him, and watch what you say, the less likely it is that he'll begin to start looking for little things that he'll use as reasoning for kick starting the family acknowledging/worrying about you.

Overall, just through letters and essentially one sided conversations, yeah- Alfred will still basically kick start everything.

The little updates and such will be appreciated, and he'll be fine at first, but at some point he's going to get more greedy, and will want to see Y/n. The letters and such won't be enough, and even if he'll still hang onto them, he's too selfish to be fully content with them for long.

So, yeah! Everything still sort of goes down about the same way as the series! :]

I hope this answered your question!

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere alfred #yandere alfred pennyworth

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Escapism

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (pre-apocalypse)

Warnings: Smut, 18+, this is truly sinful and unholy but he's probably my favorite dilf as of recent so. Deal with it. There's also a wholesome part to this.

Word Count: 4.5k WHAAAAAAT

Summary: This is from a request from an anon, "Joel Miller smut? Pre-apocalypse literally ANYTHING? Maybe where Sarah has been trying to get them together forever and one night something just snaps?"

Joel was never the most preceptive man.

He could see a fly from a mile away and hit it dead with anything near him but the man could not for the life of him understand the concept of flirting.

Weeks on ends, months even, of flirting with him every time he'd come into my store with Sarah, buying groceries too many times a week for a normal two person, sometimes three person, household. Sarah liked to joke that he only bought a small amount of groceries at a time because he wanted to have a reason to come back and talk to me.

I couldn't believe it at first.

He's nearly a decade older than me, there should be something creepy about it, about him, but there's something about him that draws me in, makes me completely and utterly floored every time he walks into the grocery store with his stupid flannels and stupid polite smile.

Until it became a habit.

He walks into the local store like he knows that I'm waiting for him to show up, to tell me I look pretty, compliment my braids, or ask me about my day. Most of the days it's all three. And though he was good at complimenting, sort of good at smooth talking, he was the worst at realizing when I'm giving him the same attention.

Sometimes I'd unbutton my shirt a few buttons, inviting his gaze to flicker south, though it rarely ever did. Fucking gentleman. Other times I'd conveniently run out of receipt paper and I'd have to bend down carefully, giving him a perfect opportunity to look at my ass, though there was never a chance my coworker was able to catch him in the act.

He's just so polite, never cursing in front of me, never looking away from my eyes, never offending me in any way, shape, or form. It almost makes me feel dirty for the way that I feel about him.

I don't know when it started, when the blushing and bashfulness turned into pure arousal, never being able to look into his eyes for too long without my knees buckling. There's just so much to him, a depth that I want to dive into.

And, I'd like it to be crystal clear, it was Sarah's idea for him and I to have a sort of date.

She pushed him into telling me that he was free nearly every Friday's, that he would be 'doing absolutely nothing' and she complained about how 'bored he typically is without something to do'.

Instead, she slipped up and instead of saying something, she said 'someone'.

Smart ass girl.

It was the push I needed though, to finally tell him that I don't work Friday's and would love to get to know him. Sarah was bubbling with joy at the thought of her dad and I hanging out and I thought it was adorable.

When I got a call from Joel this morning, just calling to tell me that he was excited for tonight and to let me jot down his address (though I already knew it from the membership I talked him into at the grocery store), I was freaked.

Immediately, panic set in, panic that I've never felt before. I've been on dates before, plenty, but there was something about the thought of being in his home, where him and his daughter live, alone with him, with wine. It freaked me out enough that it made me sit in my bathroom an hour before I was supposed to leave, contemplating if I should call him to cancel.

It's safe to say I didn't, I pulled myself from my bathroom floor and to his house, sitting in my car for too long before Sarah knocked on my window with a giggle, asking if I needed help finding the front door.

I didn't know what to do- I felt like a child, standing in the front hall of their home, swaying back and forth, waiting for someone to tell me what to do. For fucks sake, it took me nearly five minutes for me to actually take my shoes off.

"You two have fun! I'll be down the street at Mackenzie's!" Sarah calls out and I can practically hear the dramatic excitement in her voice, only exasperated by the fact that Joel's cheeks are red as can be as he looks out the window, raising a hand to his jaw to conceal his smile.

"Bye kiddo, feel free to not come back tonight." Joel calls out, deep bellowing voice causes my stomach to flip eagerly but it's his words that stop me in my tracts, brows pulling together in confusion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, hearing the door shut, Joel and I now completely and utterly alone for the night. "What do you got in store?" I lean towards him, watching the way his eyes drag down the slightest bit, watching the way that my breasts swell against my top that I wore purposely to get his reaction. Fucking finally.

"That's not what I meant." He shakes his head firmly, head tilting cutely at me in an attempt to chastise me and my dirty thoughts but I just grin wickedly, loving the way that I have him stumbling over his thoughts and words.

"Mhm." I nod, tossing him a wink as I lean back into his couch, tugging my knees up to my chest in an attempt to get comfortable but all I can feel is the steady throbbing between my legs. "You should've gone with it. I'm up for whatever you've got in store." I take another sip of wine, giving myself an out when he asks why my cheeks are so red and heated.

"Gotta stop talking like that." He mumbles, adjusting himself in his seat so his knees are parted, his body reclining into the couch with ease in an attempt to get comfortable but all I can focus on is how inviting his thighs look, spread apart like that.

A perfect throne for a queen.

"Why?" His brows lift at my question, almost as if he's asking if he really needs to answer it and he doesn't, I know why he wants me to stop talking that way and it's the exact reason while I'll continue regardless. "Does it intimidate you?"

"You've had some wine, you're probably just-"

"Drunk?" I swish my wine glass back and forth, the red liquid sloshing around as his eyes flicker back and forth from the drink to my eyes that are glued on him. "I've had a half of a glass." I deadpan and he scoffs awkwardly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "Relax, I"m not coming onto you or anything."

"No? Seems like it." He laughs, loosening up a bit as his arm stretches along the back of the couch, leaving a perfect amount of room for me to slip into the crook of his body and I fight the urge to but fail miserably.

I crawl over to his side of the couch, sitting directly beside him, his arm still staying stretched out behind me, fingers brushing against the back of my neck. He shifts so he can turn the slightest bit towards me, tongue sweeping out across his lips.

"Would you like it if I was?" His face pales, lips parting in silent shock and I giggle, taking another sip for the sake of confidence, my body warming at the drink and my proximity to the man I've pined after for so long.

"Why do you think Sarah's so keen on gettin' us together?" He asks genuinely, his once pointed gaze softening a bit and I feel myself getting more and more comfortable in his presence as the night goes on.

With us getting closer and closer, I feel the oxygen in my lungs begging to escape me, only leaving my lips in gasps as my lips chase his hungrily but there's a part of me that doesn't know if he'd reciprocate it. He's so chivalrous, I wouldn't put him past denying myself and himself a moment to just give in.

"Because she likes me and she wants you to be happy."

"And what do you want?" Joel's eyes leave mine briefly, flickering down to my lips and I feel all of my confidence wash away, the things I had planned in my head, the wishes that I wanted to come true, the things that I desperately needed to tell him- they're all gone. No thoughts can run through my head when he's shyly glancing at my lips, almost as if he wants to lean forward and taste them.

"To be taken care of." The honest answer leaves my lips before I can stop the words and my eyes widen briefly out of fear that he'll run for the hills or blame it on the wine but he doesn't, he just waits patiently for me to explain. It'll take a minute or two in the state that I'm in. "Never been taking care of before, especially by a man."

"That's a shame." He scoffs, setting his glass of wine down, implying something greater than him being done with his drink, especially with the way that his hand comes down to rest inches away from my bare knee.

"All this talent- gone to waste."

"It's just sad to hear a beautiful girl like you doesn't have more men falling over her." His eyes don't meet mine but his words meet my ears and force a shiver down my spine, my body shivering as his hand reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, shamelessly and unwavering.

"I don't have a lot of time to notice many men, I guess." My voice quivers more than I wished it would've but I choose to ignore it, my confidence suddenly rising at the realization that this is Joel being handsy; subtle touches along the back of my neck, touching my cheek, fingers brushing against my knee and leaving room for me to fit perfectly in his side.

We've bridged the gap of my checkout counter and scanning belt, now only inches away from each other instead of feet. He's just how I imagined he'd feel as I lift my hand to rest on his chest, briefly brushing over the neckline of his simple t-shirt.

"You noticed me." He mutters bashfully, cheeks heating up once more and his blush crawls down the expanse of his throat and beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Your daughter kind of forced you into my point of view."

"I'm sorry about her." He laughs, looking down at his lap again, nervously toying with his fingers. I reach out to him, setting my small hand atop his, stopping his fidgeting in its tracks and causing his eyes to lift to mine.

"I'm not." I grin, giving his hand a simple squeeze before setting my wine down beside his, opening up my hands and arms for him just in case he wants the opportunity to sink into me.

"You're good at this. I'm a little rusty." He admits bashfully with a soft smile, eyes flickering out the window once more to distract himself, sun setting in the sky as the TV plays quietly in the background.

"That's okay." I whisper, fingers hesitantly reaching out to brush across his jaw and I worry briefly that he'll push me away, tell me that he's not a touchy person, but instead his eyes flutter shut and he leans into my tongue, almost desperately. "I'm not asking for much."

"I know you're not and that's what's fucking scary." He laughs, chest rumbling and I smile, giving him a simple shrug. My simplicity is what I always assumed would bring Joel and I close to each other, neither of us having much time for games especially in the world of dating. "It's easy- being with you, I mean."

"Really? Cuz you're really hard to be with." I tease, watching his eyes widen in brief fear but I put an end to it almost immediately. "I feel like my heart's going to burst out of my chest."

"You're joking?" He asks sincerely, brows tugging together and I laugh.

"I'm not. The amount of times Sarah's muttered 'be cool' to me before you've rolled your cart up to the check out line is too many times to count on two hands." He looks beyond surprised, lips fanning out into a cocky smirk, confidence brightening up his once nervous expression.

"I never knew I had that effect on you."

"Then I've done a good job at not looking like an idiot."

"I'm the idiot." He laughs, leaning into me briefly, hand sneaking around my shoulder so his fingers can draw simple circles on my bicep. "Should've asked you out without the help of my teenage daughter."

"She planned this, didn't she?" I ask with a tilt of my head but I already know the answer, knowing that Sarah has wanted us together for the longest time, making sly comments throughout the months about how much she loves to see her dad so happy. "Us coming together, being alone?"

"Not the smartest idea, huh?" He adjusts in his seat and I eye his thighs carefully but not carefully enough cuz his fingers tap my arm in an attempt to get my attention and I laugh bashfully before addressing his comment.

"Why?"

"I don't trust myself around you." He admits with a heavy sigh.

"Good." I smirk, hands reaching out to massage his shoulder, electricity sparking under my touch and I feel him visibly tense beside me, eyes watching my fingers out of the corner of his eyes. "You need to loosen up a bit."

"Now you're coming onto me." I giggle, leaning into him, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, finally giving into him and he does the same, pulling me into him by the shoulder, arm tightening around me almost as if he's trying to keep me tucked into him.

"Sure am." His large hand soothes over my thighs that are curled up on his own and it makes me freeze, head tilting up so I can look up at him through my lashes, catching the way his eyes flicker down to my lips.

Before I can process it, his lips are on mine, softly and unbelievably timid, his hand gently cupping my jaw while his thumb tucks beneath my chin so he can kiss me better, my whole body frozen in his touch.

He's a good kisser, a better kisser than I would've anticipated, especially with how single he's been for so long. I always thought that it would be me- the experienced one, the confident one- but with his lips on mine I feel completely and utterly at his mercy.

This isn't fair.

Taking a leap of faith, I swing a leg over his thighs, finally sitting where I've wanted to all night, sinking down onto his thighs with a moan, not once slipping from his hungry lips. His hands grip my waist, dragging me against him and a surprised gasp leaves me, lips finally parting from his as I gasp in a few breaths, wide eyes looking back at me.

"Hi." I whisper breathlessly, loving the huge smile that spreads across his lips at my fragile tone and I can feel my body trembling against his, all of my nerves from the last few months coming out all at once.

"You good?"

"I just-" I start but air forces it's way into my lungs in an exasperated gasp. "I've been thinking about this, dreaming about this, for months." His eyes are so incredibly soft as he looks- gazes- adoringly up at me, hands encompassing my hot cheeks in his hands, forcing me to look at him clearer.

"I should've kissed you months ago." I grin obnoxiously into the next kiss he gives me, squealing when he lifts me further into his arms, standing up with almost no hesitation, arms looped around my shaking thighs.

"Where are we going?" I ask with a breathless giggle, holding onto him tight as my fingers card through his hair.

"Depends where you wanna do this?" Fuck. I tuck my face in the crook of his neck, almost needing to hide from him with the way that he's speaking to me, my stomach twisting and legs desperately clenching around his waist.

"Fuck." I whisper, feeling his chest rumble against mine. "I wanna be comfortable."

"Bed it is, then."

By the time we make it to be the bedroom, his hands are pushing the top of my dress down over my shoulders, hungry lips finding purchase on the junction of my neck, biting and sucking a bright red mark into my heated skin.

I can barely keep up with him like this, the way he's already pushing my clothes off, chasing my lips, hands exploring everywhere they can- it's almost overwhelming but I'd never want him to stop.

I fumble with his t-shirt, tugging it over his head with an excited giggle, immediately finding his lips once more after tossing his t-shirt to the ground. I'm pushing him back on the bed before he can take control again, deciding to find my confidence once more as I straddle his hips.

"Is this how we're doing this?" Joel asks, arms tossed over his head and I just take a second to think about how handsome he is, sweaty hair matted to his forehead, eyes completely soft but his pupils are taking up nearly all of his beautiful brown eyes, simply from arousal.

"That okay with you?" I ask, dragging my nails down his chest, seeing soft pink marks in their wake and his eyes widen, lip tucking between his teeth as he watches me grind myself against him, the roughness of his jeans satisfying the need for friction.

"Do you see me arguing?" He asks, brows furrowing in faux confusion and I grin wickedly, fingers toying with the waistband of the denim, watching the anticipatory look pass through Joel's expression.

"Good." I pop the button with ease, the sound of the zipper undoing acting like magic to my ears. "Because I've been thinking about this for months." He helps me kick his jeans off and onto the floor and my mouth waters, seeing the print of his cock beneath his boxers.

"You are gorgeous." The compliment makes me impossibly wetter than I was before, my lips parting in breathy gasps as tug his boxers off, his cock springing up and into my hand.

I grin, taking his breath away as I give him a few strokes for good measure, before lifting onto my knees, not even bothering to take my panties off. I pull them aside, biting my lip to conceal the plethora of curses that want to fly out of me as I drag his cock against my clit, bumping the sensitive bundle of nerves with every stripe I make.

"Fuck, woman, you're killing me." He groans, back arching off the bed as his hands find my thighs, giving them a firm squeeze, urging me to sink down on him and I do, slowly, giving myself time to adjust.

My jaw drops in a silent groan, nothing but a gasped breath leaving me and I firmly plant my hands on his chest, giving myself a moment to think about nothing but the stretch that his cock is giving me.

"Fuck Joel." I whisper, lifting my hips gently as Joel takes control, meeting my thrusts to lift his hip up and against me and he feels deeper and deeper every time our hips meet. His thumb slips down, brushing skillfully across my clit and I fold, my body collapsing on top of his, face tucking into the crook of his neck.

"You wanna keep going?" He asks breathlessly, pressing kisses to my cheek and my hairline, reassuring me and comforting me throughout the way and it makes my heart swell with something greater than care.

"Please just fuck me hard, I need to cum." He flips me on my back in a second, hitting the deepest parts of me as he hikes one of my legs over his hip, biceps tensing as he holds himself up, pounding into me at an unrelenting pace. "Then we can worry about soft."

He takes my words seriously, leaning up so he can look down at me, spine straightening and his hips work like a piston, chest rising and falling in frantic breaths as his head tips back in pleasure, a loud groan leaving him.

We're chasing our highs like we've chased after each other the last few months, all of the pining and shy smiles coming down to this one moment of trust and closeness. It almost makes me emotional to think of how madly in love with him I've been just from afar, that I'm here right now, in his bed with a giddy smile on my lips.

Most people say its impractical that couples can finish at the same time but when I finally topple over the edge, Joel's arms wrapped firmly around my trembling body, it pulls him along with me, cumming with a loud groan.

"Fuck." We whisper at the same time, tipsy, tired giggles leaving us as our hearts pound, coming down from our highs slowly but surely. He rubs my hips soothingly and I begin to feel the familiar ache of my joints after being carried and tossed around, our giggles dying down into small laughs and slowly even that turn into kisses.

"Wanna go to dinner next weekend?" Joels asks, rolling off of me and onto his back and an 'oof', looking to me with a bright grin, his cheeks dusted in a gentle pink.

"Wanna go to dinner now?" I offer, clutching his bedsheets to my chest as I roll onto my stomach, pecking his bicep gently as I curl into his side for the second time tonight.

"Breakfast for dinner?" His eyes widen excitedly at his own offer and I nod, feeling completely and utterly safe and sound in his bed right now. There's no judgment, no worries on my end, just happy to be here after all of this time of wishing I could be with him.

"I adore you."

#joel #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n

[cerise-on-top]

Hey! It's me again, I've been a little needy these days and I'd like to make a request, something really cute.

Valeria, Farah and Kate.

Like, they spent the night with you having fun at home, but in the morning they had to leave for work without even having time to say goodbye, but before leaving there was a noticeable mess that remained in the house, a tremendous mess. But when they arrive late from work, they find the house shining completely clean, and soon they find the reader sleeping in the living room with the TV on, but still sleeping peacefully, because her tiredness does not allow her to stay awake to receive them.

(I would love to be spoiled by Valéria in exchange for being her housewife)

I think this scenario is so cute and I love your writing, and sorry if something is wrong, I'm using the translator again. Kisses and have a great day. <3

Hey! That's a really cute idea! Sorry this is short, I'm just really tired again tonight!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell Finding Reader Asleep

Valeria: She’s not particularly surprised to find you asleep, she usually comes home extremely late at night. However, the sight warms her heart every time. Stands in the doorway for a few seconds, watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep, a small smile on her face. It’s only afterwards that she realizes you’ve cleaned your shared home. Valeria will sigh a bit, the home was in complete disarray when she left, so it must have taken a while for you to clean it all up. No wonder you’re asleep. Although she may not be the tallest person, Valeria is strong, so she’ll pick you up and carry you to your bedroom, giving you a kiss on your forehead. During these moments she loves nothing more than to hold you, even if she normally isn’t a very touchy feely person. But something about you being asleep in her arms as she carries you, completely vulnerable, just gets to her. However, it won’t be long before Valeria goes to bed herself, getting ready for such a thing, she’s tired as well. The day after she’ll spoil you rotten, though. You’ve earned a nice reward for being such a good spouse for her, and so she’ll take you on a fancy date. Or maybe, since you’ve cleaned your home so nicely, she’ll just stay home with you to cook a good meal together. The choice can wait, she’ll just ask you later.

Farah: She’d be ecstatic to see you’ve cleaned your home. It must have been a long and boring task, but she truly does appreciate it. Like Valeria, she watches you for a few moments, thinking about whether or not she should wake you up. In the end she decides against it since you truly must have been tired. However, she will drape a blanket over you and give you a small kiss on your cheek, hoping to not rouse you too much in the process. Farah makes herself a small snack so she has had something to eat before she finally goes to bed herself. However, she doesn’t go to bed, she joins you on the couch, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. While she may be extremely tired herself, she still daydreams a bit about how she could possibly repay you for doing that Sisyphean task. Anything from ordering takeout and paying to going on a walk during the sunset sounds good to her as long as she can show you her appreciation. Since she’s feeling very content around you, she might also start humming a bit, knowing fully well that you can’t hear her. But it’s just something she does when she feels comfortable around someone. Plus it helps her fall asleep too. In the end she’ll likely settle for something calm like staying at home and just cuddling the day away while thanking you. Or just doing whatever you say so she can feel like you’re getting enough rest and she did something for the household as well.

Laswell: By the time she’s home the sun has probably almost risen anyway given her line of work. Laswell would be dead tired, so I’m not even sure she’d notice you having cleaned right away. However, she would see you having decluttered the desk in the living room and be grateful. Although she may almost fall asleep herself, standing in the doorway and barely noticing her surroundings, she will see you sleeping on the couch and immediately think about sleeping next to you. Granted, Laswell isn’t a very cuddly person either, and she can’t sleep particularly well holding someone either, but she thinks it would be unfair if you slept on the couch while she slept in the bed. At least that’s her logic at the moment. She won’t even try to carry you to bed, she just wants to head to bed. Gets changed and stands still in front of the couch for a few moments before draping a blanket over you. Naturally, she’ll turn off the TV, but afterwards she gets some shut eye for a few hours as well. Only in the morning does she notice that everything is spic and span. Laswell will feel bad if you woke up before her and made some breakfast. However, she will make it up to you as well. If there’s anything you ever need from her, she’ll do it. She’ll have done it before as well, but she doesn’t want to be indebted to you. Gives you a kiss before promising you that she’ll clean up next time. Either on her own or with you. You did such a good job, she’ll likely get you some cake to show her thanks in the meantime.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #farah karim #farah karim x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #I don't have much to say again tonight #I'm just looking forward to going to bed. not looking forward to tomorrow #next week I have my first proper driving lessons. I'll be sitting in a car then and driving. I've never driven before #I've only killed the engine once and that's it #I think I have eight lessons next week and the week after I have the theoretical exam #I need to pass this I need this driver's license #right I wanted to write something about Easter with König but I'm not sure I'll actually find the time to write it #easter is next week so I thought it would make sense for me to write something like this #if I have to celebrate easter then so does König it's the law. I'm gonna pass my suffering onto him #I am not at all looking forward to seeing my grandmother. “do you have a boyfriend yet?” #I don't care about getting a boyfriend and I'm too much of a loser to pull a girl 😔 #but it's such an exhausting question. how many more times do I have to aggressively say that I don't want a guy until someone understands? #it's gonna piss me off so much I just know it already

[starpirateee]

Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!

Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:

Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?

I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!

"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"

Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.

"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."

"What have you got?"

With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."

This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.

So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.

"They didn't finish?"

"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."

"Is there anything else?"

"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"

"Anything worth noting?"

Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."

"They got this gateway open?"

"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."

"Why?"

"Because he was declared dead, sir."

His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.

"So, another dead end?"

"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.

"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"

If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.

The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.

He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.

--

"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"

By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.

He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."

"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."

"The same bear from last month?"

"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."

"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"

"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."

"Not good enough?"

"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"

Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"

"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"

Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.

"You know me well..."

"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"

"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."

"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"

"Mhm, I've been busy."

"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"

"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.

The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.

He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.

There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.

He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?

When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.

"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"

Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.

"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."

"Owennnn…"

"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."

He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.

But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.

He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.

"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"

"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"

Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.

Blue… Purple…. Yellow…

The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.

Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…

The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.

So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…

He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.

"Owen?"

That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.

"Owen?"

Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.

He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.

"Curt?"

"Prove you're Owen."

"I'm sorry?"

Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?

"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"

Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.

"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."

The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.

"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."

"What happened to you?"

Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"

Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.

"It's really you…"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."

"What now?"

"I know what I saw…"

"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."

"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.

Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.

Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.

"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."

"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."

"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"

Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"

"…Pink, and green, and white..?"

"And then blue again."

Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"

There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.

Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."

A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"

"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."

"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"

"And a bear, yes."

"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"

"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."

Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"

"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."

"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"

"That's what they were researching."

That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.

Owen nodded. "The colours."

At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.

"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.

"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-

Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"

"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"

"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"

"What if I don't make it?"

"Trust me! Please!"

Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.

He reached out.

Owen reached out.

Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.

Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.

Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.

"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"

Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.

So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.

"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.

"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"

Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.

"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"

"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.

"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"

"Your desperation speaks for itself."

Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"

The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.

Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.

Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.

"You better not be fucking with me."

"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."

The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.

"Very well."

That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.

"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"

Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.

For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.

#spies are forever #saf #starkid #agent curt mega #owen carvour #star mail #void offering #nova's tags → #wiggly would have an absolute field day with owen and curt huh #bc desires run deep. they want each other. they want to be free... #but curt wants to not be haunted by the ghosts of his past #and owen wants to move on. to get a better future where he doesn't have to devote his life to an agency #might be fun to play around with

[msfcatlover]

Moonbeam Duke (Reverse Robins)

Duke was... tough. There's not nearly as many differing designs to draw on for him, and frankly I don't like a whole lot of them. I do like the mainline Signal costumes I've seen (both the black symbol w/ full-face helmet, and the glowing symbol w/ jaw exposed) but they really have more "Independent Hero" vibes.

(These designs are all dope, but not great sidekick material.)

Digging through reference images led me to realize that even in his Elseworld appearances, Duke almost always gravitates towards those knightly vibes. Boy likes his armor with a little fantasy-flair.

("Future's End" & "White Knight" a bit less so, but I still get cyberpunk-knight vibes from both—maybe it’s just me.)

Those that aren't all knightly tend to be stylized but durable street clothes, that are just out there enough to pass for a costume but could just as easily be worn by someone in their everyday life.

(Last one is this redesign by @sufroyo, but gods do I love it!)

Duke will probably want some of that knightly vibe, but Moonbeam is kinda my Robin figure in this AU; he needs to look like the less-experienced partner to Gotham’s Dark Knight, rather than a Knight in his own right. And I should combine that with his preference for practical, durable, almost-understated fashion.

So… streetwear-squire. Let's see what I can do.

First off, we can get both sets of vibes by starting with a gambeson as our base. Go for a shorter one to emphasize that jacket look, and while they come in a whole variety of styles, I think off-center clasps looks just a little bit more modern. I'd also say he doesn't buckle up his neck, giving it that popped-collar look Duke seems to like.

(Off-centered clasps, as well as a couple casually worn gambesons to show the kind of effect you can get. Duke's is definitely the kind that covers the hip to brush the top of the thigh, but given most people think of gambesons as being knee-length, that's still short.)

And, hell, if Robin can wear bright colors then so can Moonbeam. Using the "It'll help you learn to sneak better" excuse, Duke's gambeson is cream colored. (It also looks better contrasted to Batman's black.)

I like the idea of the gambeson having built-in gloves like in Duke's "Final Knight" costume, but I don't really like the look of Final Knight’s Duke design(s). Erm, any of them. I'd define the difference on the sleeves a little more by giving him hand & arm bracers to wear over the top, probably some simple pauldrons, and maybe a gradient on the arms from cream to grey.

(Not 100% on the gradient, just think the fully light sleeve might not work even with the bracers. Keep the metal simple & understated, though, and remember the lines in the sleeves are from padded fabric rather than any kind of wrappings.)

Still, that's a long stretch of one pretty plain color. The main body needs to be broken up, and Duke should probably have a bit more protection, but we don't want to hamper his mobility. Let's add a demi-brestplate (also called a demi-cuirass or "heroic armor") on top. That protects the upper chest without going past the rib-cage, to avoid hampering movement.

(I really, really like this fluted design, but can't find anything smiliar in a demi. I've also always liked the look of breastplates which are 2 pieces held together by straps under the arms. The last one is just to give you a better idea of the size/form of the thing.)

And a steel-grey utility belt, obviously.

(...I should probably mention, none of this metal should be highly-polished. It's not glinting like a mirror whenever Duke's not redirecting light away from him, it's just a step or two above matte-finishing.)

I'd say Duke's symbol is an iridescent/opalized circle right in the middle of his chest, representing a full moon (or the bat signal minus the bat.) So it looks white, but it shimmers rainbow when it catches the light. Probably has either a black or gold ring around it to help it stand out.

(A normal opal, and opalized glass with light shining through it. No, the ring does not seem to exist outside of pinterest.)

There's also a matching smaller "jewel" on the back of each gauntlet, and Duke claims he uses them to focus his light powers. Whether he does or not, I don't know.

I don't like the look of Duke's "We Are Robin" helmet in-context, but I think it could work here. Match the grey to the breastplate & gauntlets, match the stripes to the gambeson, replace the eye-slits with a thin, one-way visor, lose the ear-circles.

(I did consider having the colors be the other way around, but that felt a little too close to Ghostmaker's look for my liking.)

Give him some dark grey cargo pants, a pair of these sports boots (minus the logos), and some metal knee-pads to finish the look.

______________________________________________________________

A handful of these characters I do actually have a degree of costume evolution in mind beyond just changing identities; Duke is one of them. In this case, it becomes more knightly as time goes on.

In particular, I think Duke swaps the gambeson for a chainmail tunic and the demi-breastplate for a laminar chest piece.

(I like the short sleeve tunic style, and I'm picturing Duke's "White Knight" armor as the basis for the chest piece. I can’t seem to find any laminar reference photos that have that same look; I’m almost picturing a scapular, but made from metal plates.)

The sports boots become combat boots, the knee-pads & bracers get swapped for splint greaves & splint bracers over black leather gloves. The “jewels” are now on the back of the gloves directly, rather than the metal, as the new bracers don’t cover his hands.

He also adds the Bat ear-points to his helmet, adds a dark undersuit to the top to replace the sleeves, and generally ups the contrast by darkening the greys & either polishing the armor or painting it metallic white (if the latter, the chainmail is probably a light, brassy brown to make them pop.)

(These colors, I believe would depend on the artist; it seems like one of those things people would disagree on.)

All of which helps evolve the look toward the Signal's "motorcycle gear meets knight armor" mash-up.

#reverse!robins #reverse robins #reverse robins AU #reverse order robins #reverse order batkids #reverse batkids #reverse batfam #reverse batfamily #duke thomas #the signal #robin duke #robin duke thomas #robin!duke #robin!duke thomas #the signal dc #batfam #batfamily #bat family #bat fam #batkids #bat kids #bat siblings #batsiblings #my life #mine #// #I don’t love this as much as the Shadow costumes; but then this is one full day’s work rather than a whole week. #Moonbeam’s been giving me trouble since the start so I’m mostly spitballing & rolling with my own design sensibilities as I go here.

[lilacsareinbloomagain]

Stargazer anon again! ★彡

I loved your oneshot on Yandere!Impulse. 11/10! If you write more than once for people, would you do smth Yan!Keralis? I'd think of him being a *very* delusional yandere. Like "we're dating even though they barely know me" delusional. Do with that what you will.

Ty! - 🌠

Welcome back Stargazer! I'm happy you liked the Impulse oneshot, thank you for request once again :]

Notes: Once again, I don't know Keralis that much. But I promise I'll try my best. This oneshot took a while since I had to make a bit of a search to know more about his behavior and all.

Also, thanks for the tip, I love it when people give me those.

TWs: Yanderism, maybe ooc Keralis, isolation, mentions of social anxiety and dependency.

C! Keralis X Reader

Not actually innocent

Keralis was nice.

He really was.

You didn't know him much, sure. But whenever you needed something he always seemed to be there, even if you didn't ask something directly to him, he popped up.

When questioned, he told you word got around.

Word sure traveled fast in Hermitcraft, he normally appeared in less than half an hour.

You didn't even know why you weren't friends with him, like, you guys were friendly but not exactly close.

You met him in the first season of Hermitcraft, you two chatted and even did some collaborations. Both of you liked building so it worked out very well in the aesthetic area, but when it came to actually talking and getting closer it didn't happen that much.

Until it happened.

With the help of your friends, the both of you eventually grew closer in season 2 and in season 3 you were practically best friends.

Then he just disappeared.

Keralis went radio silent and never answered anything you guys sent his communicator after he went inactive on the server.

He didn't return for 4 whole years.

In the years he was gone, not only did new people join the server but you got closer to your old friends. You slowly realized how lonely you actually were when Keralis was on the server. The man basically monopolized your attention, every time you were planning to ask one of your other friends to collab or just hang you he immediately took that time, messaging you first.

Of course, you didn't want to think bad of him, maybe he was just very needy of attention? Spending so much time building couldn't have been good for his mental health, so the discovery that he could build and enjoy a nice chat with someone who just fit with him was too good to skip.

And he was also nice, very nice.

So when he came back after 4 years you couldn't bring yourself to confront him.

What you were able to do however, was avoiding him to the best of your ability.

And you did.

During those 4 years, you changed a lot, your personality now seemed to carry a bit of each of your friends as if they all had contributed to building the person you were now by just being there when your best friend abandoned you without further notice.

To be honest, you were sour at the very start of the years without him. You had trouble to be around everyone again, it was almost like he had isolated you without anyone noticing.

In a few months, your new (and old) friends helped you become a better version of yourself and made you miss Keralis a lot less. It was almost like you had lost a piece of yourself by just being so much time around him and not interacting with one else, like your personality had become bland.

Your habits changed a lot, too.

Before, it was almost like you were an extension of Keralis and not your own person.

Keralis tried pretending like nothing had happened when he came back, he acted the same as always.

It was very common for you to have your communicator always blown up with messages and missed calls from him, back then you would respond immediately when they appeared on your screen, now, when he messaged or called, most of the time you were busy with a lot of things.

Now you had a wide range of people to work with, so it wasn't unusual for you to be working with someone and when you guys decided to stop for a break you notice your communicator to be on the verge of glitching with the amount of messages from him.

You have also discovered something called a healthy sleep schedule.

4 years ago you barely napped, spending all day and night building restlessly.

You also discovered how fun other things were, sure, building was awesome, but have you ever explored? Farmed? Spent time with animals??? The list of things you spent time doing now, with other people or even by yourself kept going.

Keralis was restless.

It was almost like- No, you couldn't have been avoiding him. Could you? After all he had done for you?

No, you weren't avoiding him. You wouldn't avoid him of all people. The bond you shared was special, you loved him and he loved you even more.

Of course not! How come he ever even thought about that possibility? Keralis laughed to himself, walking towards your newly built house, seeing you and Grian in the distance, admiring the giant house and talking about something he couldn't hear, laughing and smiling together. He gritted his teeth as Grian stretched his arm across your shoulders, one of his brightly colored wings following his movements and wrapping across your back.

"These guys are getting on my nerves…" He mumbled, his fist gripping the handle of his pickaxe tighter.

Those new people, getting in the middle of you guys relationship, how dare them!

He rolled his eyes as he got closer to you and Grian, able to hear him bidding his goodbyes before flying away in the direction of the sea, where his base was located.

You were smiling, as you stopped waving and turned back you almost jumped, raising your hands in surprise at the figure of Keralis right behind you.

"Oh, didn't see you there." You smiled, scratching your neck after getting over your precious scare. He smiled back at you, coming to stand right by you, looking out into the distance.

"I think we need to talk." He said, not looking at you.

"Sure, one second I'm just gonna finish making a door to my h-" As you prepared to take a step away, Keralis held your shoulder.

"This is important," You lifted an eyebrow, waiting for what the topic of your important talk would be. "It's about our relationship. "

"Okay, yeah. We really need to talk about our relationship." You gave in, gently pushing his hand off your shoulder and moving to stand face to face with him. A serious expression on your face.

This topic was avoided by you for too long, this wasn't just about your mental health now, you had improved a lot and were okay now, and hopefully you'd be able to help Keralis too. Even if it would hurt him having the truth thrown at his face, this was important if he ever wanted to have friends, to understand how bondaries worked. And despite his terrible mental health, Keralis was a good person, he just needed to acknowledge something was wrong and actually try his best to fix it. And if he was up for it, you would be there to help him, like a good friend really would.

"You have to stop putting people before me." He crossed his arms, you shaked your head.

"That's not- They're my friends!"

"I'm more important than them, am I not??!" He yelled, you were about to speak again when he yelled. "You were supposed to love me!"

You put your hands on his shoulders. Speaking in a slow voice to try and make your words get in his head, furrowing your eyebrows.

"Keralis! This is not healthy."

He sniffed. Nodding his head.

You released a breath in relief. Patting his shoulder with one of your hands before squeezing it one last time.

"We can work this out okay, I'm here to help you." You smiled sadly at him, he lifted his head and smiled back at you, grabbing the hand you put on his shoulder. He held the hand there for a moment before pushing it away gently.

"Okay, now I really should go, it's almost nighttime and I have no doors." You chuckled a bit, glancing back at him before running to your crafting table, waving as you got away.

Ah, this is bad. You got attached to these people in the time he was gone.

Guess it would hurt you more when he isolated you from them again.

Still,you were so loyal to him, only made his love for you grow. Good to know you still loved him as well, it would make the process easier.

#keralis #keralis x you #keralis x reader #yandere x reader #yandere keralis #yandere hermitcraft #hermitcraft x you #hermitcraft x y/n #hermitcraft x reader #tw: yandere #c: keralis

[lemonduckisnowawake]

So a while back @floorbacon0621 was talking about a hallmark movie where a woman body hijacked a rich lady but then realized all she wanted was family for Christmas.

Cue @emarynn going "eh, sounds boring" and me going "WELL CHALLENGE ACCEPTED."

The below is the result, transcribed (copy/pasted) from Discord because I realized I wanted it somewhere I could find before it got buried (it's already been buried actually) from all our chatter....which means I need a new tag for my personal writing stuff. BUT ANYWAY

Woman- gets isekaid into rich lady ML - rich guy whom rich lady is engaged to Rich lady - gets isekaid into woman

Plot: rich lady sees this sad and hectic ADHD family that is just NOT managing holidays well and is giving stress upon stress to each other and is like "all right, imma straighten you all out cause i'm a doctor" and actually starts helping the woman's family cope. Woman's family is like "woah, daughter, college in the city really has changed you. maybe this was a good idea after all." Meanwhile, woman is not at ALL happy to be in rich lady's body and is annoyed with rich guy who is doing his uttermost to scare off rich lady to break off the engagement, but woman isn't gonna do that cause this isn't her life - and rich guy is confused cause it was about to succeed, so what the heck? Woman wasn't really looking forward to the holidays cause her family is SO chaotic and it drives her nuts, and she guesses that this is a great way to escape but…they were expecting her and she still LOVES them, so she's gonna check. Unfortunately, before she can do anything, she's pulled into rich people christmas stuff with rich guy as her confused date. She finds all the bluster and pomp way too annoying and almost worse than her family's chaos but, again, not her life so she doesn't say anything. She likes the food thought, but everything is so fake that it just pricks at her even more until she can't take it and just….leaves the party at one point to hide.

Rich guy comes after her and they have an emotional moment or idk, which now confuses HER cause where was the rude guy? To which he admits he was trying to break up the engagement cause there's someone he loves who is not as wealthy and thought the best way was to act mean. To which the woman, in utter bafflement, is like, "Dude. It's a free country. Just…..break it off? You're over the age? Is there like any formal contract?" "Uh…no" "??????????? Then why don't you just break it off?" "They'll disown me. I don't have any job experience!" "??? Are you serious? You're in training to be the CEO? And you have a college degree? Just….use that to get a job???" "Oh…." "Uh huh." Anyway, cue woman accidentally making things better without even meaning to in her comedic shenanigans to just CALL HOME and see how everyone's doing, interspersed with cuts from rich girl who is having a blast organizing everything but thinks she should probably find a way to get back to her body cause being an heiress is great.

Anyway, blah blah blah, magic of Christmas, switcheroo goes back to normal after they meet and tell them all the happenstances ("you broke off my engagement?" "NO! He broke off his engagement with YOU! I didn't say I'd accept or anything! And you actually made my family functional?" "Yeah, being a psych and med student is great" "…..i hate rich people" ":DDD") End movie

#lemon duck quacks #lemon duck tales #....yeah ignore the potential copyright issues of that tag #one of these days i'll go tag my other writing stuff with this tag #anyway this isn't even counting the random plot bunnies bacon and em and i went into after that wall of text i sent #perhaps i will reblog those additions if i can get permission to screenshot our unhinged convos #but just having this means i can go and use the search function to the start of it all #you know the whole arranged marriage thing reminds me of another convo with another group of friends #where i spitefully tried to combat the idea that enemies to lovers couldn't exist in contemporary romances #i mean i succeeded somewhat by telling them 'customer x customer service rep' to which the immediate and loud response from all #was a resounding NO #i got distracted

[pantherlover]

An Artificial Night Re-Read: Part 7

Hello again! This is the last part for An Artificial Night. Let's see where it goes:

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Tybalt and May's relationship is another one I would be interested in seeing how it developed over the two months Toby was missing.

When Toby mentions that Amandine could've saved up to help save her, Tybalt says that Amandine had disappeared *again*. That could mean that she's disappeared more than once, but I took it to mean that she'd been around recently. I can't remember if we got confirmation that the answers Tybalt was looking for re: Toby came from Amandine or not. Did he find her at this time and then she disappeared right after?

'Maybe the long pause had been good for my magic, because it felt like my illusion came together more easily than normal.' Is this a hint that undergoing the transformations shifted Toby's blood slightly?

'I wound up between Connor and Tybalt. They kept glaring at each other over the top of my head. I had a pretty good idea of why, but I didn't want to deal with it.' I'm not sure you do have any idea why they're doing it Toby; in fact, given that you continue to insist that Tybalt doesn't like you for another, like, two and a half books, I'm pretty confident that you don't!

May mentioning how hard it was for her to get Spike to eat vs. Toby telling Acacia it wasn't that hard to look after him (right after Acacia told her how hard it was to keep rose goblins alive) makes me think about Toby and her almost endless capacity to care about people, and how Toby probably doesn't understand that about herself at all.

I forgot how unpleasant Rayseline was in the first few books.

First time Toby drinks the Luideag's blood.

Chapter Thirty:

I don't have anything to say about this chapter, but *man* Seanan McGuire's prose is SO good.

Also her writing is really cinematic and I want a TV show so so sooooooooooo much.

Chapter Thirty-One:

Toby actually thanked Sylvester for loaning her his sword, but I'm pretty sure that was a mistake given that three pages later Sylvester thanked her and Toby acted like it was a big deal.

I think this is the last book that Toby needs her injuries bandaged.

Thirty-Two:

Every time Toby mentions that Luidaeg doesn't need to worry about robbers, I imagine a mortal thief breaking into her house and both the thief and the Luidaeg being just. SO confused about what's going on.

This chapter's so sad; Quentin loved Katie *so* much. I know that it never would've lasted, for a lot of different reasons, but Katie (and Quentin) deserved better than this.

I think Quentin choosing to let Katie go hits a little harder when you know that he's the Crown Prince. He's not just letting go of a mortal lover; he's acknowledging that he never would've been able to be with her forever. (This might also be why he's willing to date Dean; he already knows that he's able to give someone he loves up when he needs to.)

Thirty-Three

Every time Jessica turns up in this book, it makes me sad. She's just a little girl! She only has five more years! She never got to come into her own and get fully free of Blind Michael!

This chapter is giving me a lot of feelings about May and Stacey's relationship too, and how terrible the Stacy-is-Titania revelation would've been for May too. Stacy was the first person from Toby's life who accepted her without hating her first; that must've been such a blow to lose.

'As far as the state of California was concerned, I'd always had an identical twin sister. Bet Amandine would be surprised to hear that one.' I don't think she'd be as surprised by that as you'd think Toby.

Neither Tybalt or Connor have talked to her since she came back from Blind Michael's: It's fine. It's fine! It's fine. It's. Fine.

Even knowing what comes in the future, this is still a lovely ending. At least they got to have this moment.

That's it for An Artificial Night! (Whoo, finished by the skin of my teeth!) I might get to Late Eclipses between the next two books, but we'll see; it's just as likely that I'll be recovering from them emotionally until December. Either way, see you next time!

#October Daye #An Artificial Night #Reread Project

[bravewolfvesperia]

@valiantxunion | continued

Clearly Kanata knew more about Blood Sins than Yuri did, but he didn't want to ask about it further at the moment. There were a lot of things he needed to straighten out as far as knowing this group, and that was one just of many. More than that, he could only suppose Kanata had been used to living like this to be able to smile so easily and act so friendly.

Was it impressive to accept his sin? From what he did know about the power Vicious gave him, a person needed to truly accept what they had done - what they had been condemned for - and just saying as much wouldn't have cut it. The person needed to genuinely believe they were not wrong and have the will to keep fighting.

Whether that actually made him impressive or not, he wasn't sure. He just knew with certainty that he had things he still wanted to protect and that he would have, condemned or not, always believed in the path he chose. That also meant these people here believed in themselves and that they were not wrong, regardless of their sins or supposed sins.

Eventually he would get around to talking to everyone and really knowing who these people were. Today he was just... not feeling much of anything. After being targeted again by Enforcers he'd been dealing with them before meeting Vicious, and receiving a Blood Sin had not exactly been painless. Right now he just... only wanted to get into conversations that happened through progression, rather than trying to steer it in a direction that meant seeking information and answers all at once.

Even for him, it was a lot to take in. These people were used to it and he could tell they were. They didn't act like recent victims. In a way it was as if they had already accepted it and moved on with their lives. If Yuri survived long enough, maybe he would be like that eventually too. For now it was just... still a lot to process.

"Maybe... a month or so? Probably bit a less." Long enough to learn to be paranoid pretty damn fast though. Twenty-one years of a relatively relaxed nature was almost completely out the window now. Just being around other people usually made him stiff and left all of his senses on high alert.

With this group it was different, if only because he knew ahead of time they were all Transgressors. Pleasant personalities helped at least - the ease at which they accepted meeting another Transgressor was enough to tell him they, like him, didn't have any faith in what it meant to be a "criminal" anymore. A "criminal" was only determined by a single person's side of a story without proper context. Being a Transgressor in and itself hardly held any real meaning and had no bearing on who a person was.

As if sensing the shift in tone and mood from Yuri, Repede moved to sit next to him, giving a small whine and nudging his head at Yuri. Yuri's hand moved to stroke the pup's head, whose ears moved back and forth for a moment as he studied Kanata. Funnily enough, Yuri loved that about Repede - how he always decided for himself if he liked someone regardless of Yuri's feelings on them. A single dog was thinking more for himself than most of humanity at this point.

"This is Repede, by the way. He's stuck with me since I had to run away. He's always been with me, but... he's never objected to living like this ever since he followed me the day I got condemned. I'd know if he was showing signs of wear from living like this, but he's just... stuck by my side like normal. He's the most normal thing I've had since it all happened."

Another small whine left Repede as he pawed at Yuri lightly, looking back at Kanata and eventually getting comfortable and laying down beside Yuri. Sometimes Yuri did wish Repede would go home to Flynn and stay with him. He was only about four years old, and... the thought of losing him during all this was unbearable, much less when the pup had so many years left of life. Even if Repede could take care of himself in a fight, the idea of losing him had been scarier to Yuri than if he himself had been killed.

#valiantxunion #{ verse: crestoria } #{ thread: 24 }

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia! Hope you’re well, all things considered. <3 Would you have any advice for someone who’s trying to get back into writing after a long period of not doing it? I used to write obsessively when I was younger, but it’s now been six or seven years that I just… haven’t. There are plots I’ve played with and half-planned in the last few years, but I don’t remember the last time I just sat down and wrote, and it’s so frustrating because I remember it coming to me so easily before. Is there any method to this you would recommend, or does it boil down to… just doing it?

Hi hi anon!

So I think there's some psychological things to address first.

If you stopped running marathons for 6-7 years you'd have to start almost from scratch again when you started training once more. You'd probably remember how to train, and your muscles might pick it all up faster, but the fact is any skill if you stop for that length of time atrophies kind of like a muscle.

So while you feel frustrated, what you're going through is normal, and a consequence of just...stopping. If you want to do it again, you have to come at this with the idea of sort of training yourself up again. Expecting yourself to write as you did when you used to write obsessively, without any build up to it, is really really unfair on yourself!! It's also just not realistic. So maybe just gently and compassionately reality check yourself there, because the reason a skill comes easily to you a lot of the time is because you're doing it a lot at the time - and if you're writing obsessively, you're kind of fast-tracking all that training.

So some patience is called for, because frustration that you're not immediately a trained person in writing after 6/7 years of giving no time to it is like... I mean firstly frustration alone won't be motivational and it's not discipline, and secondly unfortunately you just gotta give yourself time to like...build up skills. And that's unfun when you remember how easy it was back in the day. But it can be that easy again! Just - you have to train to get there.

I have gone through long periods of time without writing, notably after university (where I did a side Major in Creative Writing) until I started writing fanfiction again. Like you, particularly in high-school, I used to write obsessively. When I started again, it felt like I had lost everything, and realistically, I had lost some skills through lack of maintenance. Which is normal.

So I started small. I started with smaller stories and shorter chapters. I did some writing prompts just to get back in the habit of writing dialogue and settings again. I realised aspects of my style had changed a lot in the many years between when I stopped and started again, due to reading and picking up other things along the way, so I also had to surrender to the fact that I wasn't going to write exactly like I used to, because I'd changed as a person.

I also didn't pressure myself to like, finish anything straight away. If I wrote 200 words in a week - what a great week! If I wrote 500 words in a day, oh my god! It didn't matter that I could remember writing thousands and thousands of words without barely thinking about it, I was starting new, and retraining my body and my mind, while also relearning the craft of writing and my shape within it (because that had changed, and that needs patience).

I don't think I'll ever write quite as I did as a teenager, which is great, because I love how I write now. But like, the person I am now, who can write large wordcounts and put up nearly everything I do write, is someone who came back and had to relearn how to do that. I didn't just come out of the gate finding those things easy the second time around.

You know how to be the writer you were back then, but you don't know how to be the writer you've become. It's a new series of skills, and it's important to cut yourself some slack. Frustration and impatience are the enemies of any new skill, at least if it's constantly in the form of comparison: 'Why can't I be as good as I was back then' and is followed by inertia. A little frustration can motivate you to speed along, but it needs to be paired with compassion and honestly - just being realistic. You had a skill, you dropped the skill and didn't maintain it, the skill atrophied. That's normal. That is how skills work.

The good news is dropping anything for a period of time still leaves you with something more than someone who has never done it before. Whether that's a language, or art, or writing, or any hobby. You may find that if you do just start again (via prompts or exercises or smaller chapters or different stories), things will come to you faster over time. :D

Tl;dr: So yeah, while there are exercises you can absolutely do! I'd say you also just need to gently reality check yourself. Skills of any kind - physical or mental - don't stay magically maintained with nothing put into them, loss of ability is normal, it's completely okay, but having done it a lot in the past means you'll learn it faster now, and it's definitely worth trying. :)

#asks and answers #pia on writing #pia on fanfiction #the only other thing i'd add is that #as you get older and keep absorbing stories through #TV and film and reading etc #you become more discerning #it becomes harder to just sort of pour words onto the page because you have #a better idea of what story structure is and what good writing looks like #so there's stuff about disengaging your inner editor too #but frankly that's also just another skill #that you can learn along the way

[zorkaya-moved]

❝ promise me that you will never turn against me. i could not bear that. promise me. ❞ oh ,, from zen ,,,

@avaere

Just how many people have wronged him? She could've been one, she so easily could've been one of those people who used him as a fun toy and then tossed away. Zarina has done this often, all too often in her life. The entertainment industry is cruel, it can be even more cruel than the criminal world. Sokolova knows just how much hardship there is to be known, to be seen, to be desired, but Hyun Ryu suffers the fate of success in a way that not many actors would ever wish to be.

Obsession, possession, toxic parasocial and one-sided relationships. It's nigh impossible for someone 'normal' to exist in such world, it's too big of a struggle and sometimes love cannot beat it all. Maybe that's why she's so calm, stalking fans and violent outbursts are just another Monday for her. Does Zen not understand she is just as insane? No, she is better than them. Obviously. She has the ability to control herself and her urges. Plus, the actor charmed her heart, capture the Snow Queen's essence and keeping her close to him.

He looks broken, hurt, and alone. Does he not understand that she would've left him if he did not have her on his side? If she did not care, she would've been gone for a while. After all, when push comes to shove, she doesn't fear tossing people away like a deck of old cards or like dirty gloves. But then again, Sokolova thinks he's lucky that he's got someone like her to stay. He's wonderful, so human and so broken just like her, but he reminds her of vulnerability and humanity.

The silverette cups his face as she stands between his legs as he sits on the couch, looking down on him in silence and studying his expression. It's hard to read her face, her blank expression but then she sighs softly, hugging his head to be pressed against his chest. Her sigh almost sounds like he's asking for something foolish, something that he already has. It's a soft sigh, one without any anger or malice. It's a simple non-verbal showcase of how she feels: you're such a fool, of course I'll be on your side.

But will he be on hers if he learns? Maybe she should share her job with him. An arms dealer. It'd be better to give her official job, not bring in the other aspects this job includes. But she hopes that for now, he can accept her comfort, the sound of her heartbeat and her gently stroking his hair. Her touch is soft and tender, as tender as winter can afford to be, hoping these actions would let him know that he's here and he's here with her. Zarina's not going anywhere.

"I won't turn against you," she whispers, a soothing gesture of stroking his hair continues. He can rest, he can rest in her embrace and find peace within her presence. Eyes close as she wishes to dedicate her all to letting him know just how much he matters and how much she cares. How lucky he is, capturing the heart of a frigid winter. "I promise."

But I won't ask the same from you.

"It hurts me a bit," she admits, but only hugs him closer so he doesn't look up and doesn't see her face, not yet. Not when her lips are pressed together and eyebrows are slightly frowned. "You thought that after being with you for so long... I'd turn against you?" Zarina can't help but share in this very moment. She's an indulgent woman, she is someone who is so viciously independent and sharp. "Forget about it. You cannot do anything that will make me turn against you." Zarina doesn't say 'aside from cheating' because she knows he will never do it. She doesn't say what she knows he will never do and never even think of doing. His heart is bright akin to a start. "If you ask me, I'd take you away. If you ask me, I'll give you a new life. If you ask me, I'll give you my life."

It may sound too big and too grand, but she means it. She means every single thing. Because she can. Because unlike Zen, she is not normal and will never be normal.

#avaere #cries a bit #❄ ― IN CHARACTER. ╱ you breathe by the sun，i breathe by the moon. #﹙zen | avaere﹚ ♥ | ― a loving script of you and i. ❞

[jamboarbs]

I realized the other day that lately I've stopped making my little journal posts on here. At first I think I tried to convince myself it was just life getting to me and not having the time to stop and process my feelings. I realized now that it was mainly me running away from my feelings, even though no one but me reads these I felt irrationally worried in disappointing someone by posting about slipping back into my depression. It was just hard to admit that I slid back down the proverbial slope after the first major progress I'd had in my adult life. I started questioning all my recent choices and things got really vile. I managed to not let it get as bad as it was before, but a lot of awful thoughts still run around my head. I just wish I could completely scrub out the inside of my dome at times. I mean I guess I wouldn't really be me anymore, but maybe if I was wiped completely clean like total amnesia I might be able to treat myself properly. I haven't regressed back to the constant self hate or anything, but the fact the suicidal thoughts have cropped back up makes me uneasy. It's just so easy to think about when things go wrong, like I'm keeping it on backup. I don't want to be like this all time, some coward with cyanide pill locked and loaded for a bad day. I want to be able to express myself, and figure out my gender identity. The one that hurts most though is my self image. I can finally look at my own face without disassociating, but my weight seemingly will never stop bothering me. I hate how you can completely break down and understand you own failures of internal logic, but no matter how much I appreciate, am attracted to, or get gender feelings from other fat people I can never seem to apply even a shred of that to myself. It's fundamentally corrupted somewhere and I can't seem to fish it out, I keep telling myself to try and reach on here for help, but I'm too afraid of rejection. I'm constantly paralyzed in fear that if I start to try and express my feminine side or do anything to stray from my normal default shlubby guy looks that ill just be branded as a desperate neckbeard. I thought I could do this only a little over a month ago, but now I feel so vulnerable. My brain is screaming for attention, affection, and affirmation from someone. While all I want is to be able to give that to myself. I'm already 25 and I haven't had a single healthy relationship, so I don't want to rely on someone who could just up and leave me like everyone else has. I don't even know if I want to continue to try and salvage the friendships I have right now. The only people I have left in my life are a friend I'm almost certain is already on track for ditching me because of how high maintenance I am, a coworker friend I never get to see, and my boss who I have to maintain a set distance from to not interfere with work. Right now I'm writing this when I need to be showering for work tomorrow. I'm so tired. My heart feels so heavy. Why can't I stop feeling like a burden

Forget what I said before, can someone just fall into my life like some shlocky romance, if I don't get an outlet for my love soon it might just kill me

Help

#please

[xmyshya]

What the fvck

summary: Your long term boyfriend leaves you for someone else (no cheating), so you decide to take revenge on the most important person in his life. But it takes an unexpected turn... genre: angst, smut, a pinch of fluff? warnings: fighting, falling out of love, breakup, swearing, MINORS DNI betas: @vivianvampyric thank you so much, my love. What would I do without you <3 special thanks: to @karasunowo for this beautiful Osamu doodle <3 and my soulmate @bokutosace for pushing me past my block <3 a/n: Fic is a part of the Anilysium server collab with a prompt: hate/revenge fucking. You can find the masterlist here. @hqintheclub wc: 3.2k edit a/n2: thank you so much for the love and all the feedback I got from you, you're seriously amazing <3 I'd like to officially announce that there will be part 2, once I figure out my irl urgencies! If you'd like to be tagged in its release, let me know!

“What the fuck?!”

Eight years. Eight fucking years reduced to this one sentence.

“Am sorry, I really am.”

To be fair, Atsumu does look sorry—with pain besmirching his big brown eyes, usually so warm and bright; a quiver of his bottom lip and muscles shifting in his jaw; and the way he’s fiddling with his fingers, something he almost never does. Something about precious setter fingertips.

“I don’t give a fuck, Atsumu! How could you?!” He shrinks in on himself.

“I— We haven’t done anythin’, I just— A wanted ta be fair ta ya.”

You scoff. Fair. How is dumping a girlfriend of eight years after living together for five for some other chick fair? How is falling in love with someone else after making promises of forever since high school fair?

You’re surprised you haven’t started crying yet—maybe it’s because of the shock, maybe it’s the rage, or maybe it’s your pride and not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Although between the breakdown and your current outburst, you’re not sure which is worse.

“Look, yer free to stay ‘ere fer as long as ya want. I have a place ta stay, I’ll grab ma things when yer out. I owe ya this much.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

“I do. I— I better go now. Bye, Y/n.”

Closing the door of your shared apartment (not anymore, you realise) opens a door somewhere inside of you, and you burst in tears. And then you cry, and cry, and cry, until your eyes are swollen and burning, and you can’t open them anymore.

The next few days are a blur; you're not quite sure if it's a day or night with your closed curtains, you fall in and out of an uneasy slumber, and don't remember the last time you ate or showered.

The rage has burnt everything in you, leaving nothing but ashes and dried tear trails. It's bizarre, not feeling anything—a little bit like drowning, a little bit like floating, a little bit like suffocating.

On the fifth day of this timeless suspension you realise that the noise you hear isn't an earthquake; it's just your stomach demanding something, anything. But there's nothing at the apartment, you've already ate whatever was still consumable, and the rest is spoiled.

You're still standing in front of the open empty fridge, deciding on whether to go shopping or not, but the loud grumbling makes the decision for you. But first, you need a shower.

The water feels magical as it flows down your body. It's warm, bringing back sensations in your numb limbs. It cleanses the dread, removes dust, and all the dirt and worries disappear down the drain.

It's kind of refreshing to wear clean clothes after these few days and leaving the apartment, even if it's to go to the grocery store right next to your building. It's almost normal to pick the rice, vegetables, meat, and fruits.

Back at a home that isn't yours, the ingredients for a simple dish are simmering in the pot, and you hum happily while mixing. It's a sound that these walls haven't heard in a while, and it still lingers when you pour the soup in a bowl.

You sit at the table, clasp your hands together with an echoing clap and mutter an itadakimasu. And then it hits you, again. You're at the table, alone. About to eat dinner, alone. You're in this flat, alone. He's not here anymore, not yours anymore.

The dish is forced down your throat, spoon after spoon, even when you choke back the tears. It burns, it hurts, it threatens to go back up, but you continue, swallow after swallow. Because the world hasn't come to a halt, even if yours did.

There's a soft knock on the door, and you notice the room is filled with a red-ish, pink-ish light. You have survived another day, you think glancing at the setting sun.

---

"What the fuck." Osamu mutters under his breath and considers running away. "Why am I even doing this for that dick?"

He knows what Atsumu did. He knows that sometimes things like this happen and it's not necessarily anyone's fault. He's mad because he would never treat you like that. Maybe giving you up back in high school in favour of his twin was a mistake.

The man drags a hand down his face and knocks. Part of him hopes you're out, that you won't open the door and he won't have to pretend that he doesn't see your red, puffy eyes. Another part hopes that upon seeing him you'll just throw yourself into his arms in search of comfort.

There's a click of a lock and then a voice,

"'Samu?"

---

"'Samu? Come in, please."

It hurts how identical they are. Even despite different-coloured eyes, despite Osamu going back to his natural hair, they are so undeniably identical twins. Fuck.

"Would you like some tea? I don't have any coffee, sorry."

He hates the expression you're wearing, he hates how obvious it is that you're in pain, and he hates how it's probably because of his face. He shouldn't overstay his welcome, shouldn't break you any more, but he just can't leave.

When the drinks are ready, both of you sit at the table, the same one that you used to dine at with his brother. Judging by the look in your eyes, he's occupying Atsumu's chair, inflicting damage yet again.

The awkward silence fills the room; neither of you know what to say, because really what is there to say? Between the sips of a hot brew he opts for a meaningless small talk, one of about weather, because any other topic seems dangerous.

Time passes, and after many deafening tick-tocks it's suddenly too dark to see your undereye bags. You stand to turn the lights on.

"'Samu?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

He looks at you and gulps, not sure of your reaction when he says his name.

"To— to grab 'Tsumu's stuff."

"Did he— he asked you to?"

Osamu nods, and you can feel your blood boil. He was with you for eight fucking years, and he doesn't have the decency to come himself? He threw you away like trash, and he doesn't have the courage to look you in the eyes? He has to drag his brother into this?

You're angry, you're so angry, and the only thing you want is to devastate, to hurt, to break, to trample, just like you were devastated, hurt, broken, and trampled. Osamu stands in front of you.

"Am sorry, Y/n. Am so incredibly sorry."

Blinded by the rage, you hide your face in Osamu's chest, crumple his shirt in your fists, as you decide to destroy the only constant in Atsumu's life. To rip off something that was always his and claim it as yours, even if it’s just for one night.

He’s mad too; he gave you up all those years ago for his brother, only for him to step on it, and in the name of what? He’s spent all those years watching your relationship bloom, wishing you were his instead, but you belonged to his twin, you were untouchable, unattainable. But now, the very same brother left you, spat on Osamu’s sacrifice, and ran away. So he’s going to steal you away, claim you as finally his, even if it’s just for one night.

He hugs you tight, rubbing soothing patterns on your back, and mumbles apology after apology. If there was anything he could do, he'd do it in a heartbeat. There's not one thing he wouldn't do for you.

"'Samu, what's wrong with me? Am I not enough?" You mutter into the fabric. Hook.

"Huh? No, Y/n, look at me." You lift your face and look at him with doe eyes. Line. "There's nothing wrong with ya, yer a wonderful woman." Sinker.

You keep your gaze on him for a moment, pull him down by his shirt as you stand on your toes… and then you kiss him. A gentle peck right on his lips, then another one before you capture his bottom lip between yours.

"I— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I don't—"

You push yourself off of him, babbling and pretending to panic, but in the corner of your eye you see how much he liked it. Perfect. So you place a finger on your lips, as if the sensation of him still lingered there, and shift your gaze at him.

Everything becomes a blur when you keep looking at each other, millions of feelings swarming in his eyes, a dangerous glint in yours. Everything is hazed over when he pulls you in and crashes his lips on yours.

His warm hands slide under your shirt against your cool skin and you gasp at the sensation. He wastes no time and kisses you deeper, harsher, with a tongue teasing at yours. You wonder if it tastes as sweet to him as it does to you.

Your impatient fingers tug at his shirt, wanting to feel him closer, sooner, right now. The kiss is broken and as if on command, both of you take your shirts off. Osamu's arms snake around your waist again, pulling you into him and into another searing kiss.

It's full of longing, full of hunger, overtaking your senses like a storm. There's just Osamu and the taste of his tongue, the feeling of it sliding and swirling around yours, and the stinging of his bites on your bottom lip.

He pushes you backwards until your thighs hit the edge of the table; you're lifted to sit on it as the black haired twin sucks hot marks onto your neck. His hands are on your thighs, digging in the soft flesh through your pants, and he moves them towards your ass, not forgetting to tease the creases with his thumbs.

A shiver runs down your spine and straight to your cunt; it’s a forbidden fruit with an alluring scent, and you want to bite into it, devour it whole, even if it consumes you back. Just the idea of the act is so sinful, that you can’t help but wonder if the heat inside you is arousal or hellfire.

Osamu’s huge hands unclasp your bra and throw it somewhere on the floor, then they move to cup your tits and squeeze them. His lips are on yours again, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, as if he’s been waiting for it for a lifetime. A pinch on your nipples makes you release the sweetest little ‘ah’ he’s ever heard in his life.

You’re growing impatient, you want him to finally fill you up, so you tug on the band of his sweats and he gets it. Leaning on your palms you lift your hips us, giving him the opportunity to take both your pants and panties off. Where they land afterwards, you don’t know.

One of his hands reaches straight to your pussy, fingertips prod at the entrance and smear your juices all around your folds.

“Fuck.” He breathes into the kiss. “Yer so fuckin’ wet.”

He flicks your clit a few times and you arch your back in response. Osamu smirks; you’re so sensitive, so responsive, he can’t wait to pull all kinds of sounds from your lips, especially his name. He doesn’t have to wait long though, a few rubs and pinches on your nub and you let out a breathy “‘Samu…”, and he swears he could cum at that moment.

His touch feels so much different from his brother’s—his hands are rougher, fingers thicker, which you notice as the man slips one of them into your cunt. It’s so different but so good, intoxicating even, and you nearly lose your mind when another one joins in.

There’s a steady pace of the pumping of his digits, in and out, in and out, with each time the base of his fingers rubs against your clit. Your walls are squeezing him, nails digging in his shoulders, and when you moan his name again, he has to be inside you. Now.

Osamu pushes you gently so you lay down on the table, and gets rid of his sweats and boxers in the meantime. Your knees are spread wide to invite him into your leaking hole, and he enters in one swift motion. The next few seconds are still, it’s time to adjust to his size, to this new experience, but soon enough he moves again. Tea cups fall to the floor and shatter, but neither of you notices.

At first the thrusts are slow, careful, and he’s watching your face closely for any signs of discomfort. They don’t appear, so the pace is a little quicker, the push a little harder. It’s happening, it’s finally happening, the moment he’s been dreaming of for years at last coming true. It’s difficult to control himself, and soon enough his cock is drilling into you with a force that will surely bruise your cervix.

You’re so full of him, he’s invaded your pussy, your mind—in this moment your whole existence screams “Osamu, Osamu, ‘Samu.” You tell him to go even faster, even harder, to hammer out every thought out of your head. He complies, pulls you closer to the edge of the table and leans down over you. His hands grip the opposite edge of the furniture and Osamu makes an experimental thrust.

And then he’s ramming into you, pushing his cock even further in your cunt, and it’s a miracle that your table is still in one piece. You wrap your arms around his, nails digging in his shoulder blades, as the familiar heat blooms in your abdomen. One of your hands reaches down between your bodies, the other still holding onto him for dear life.

You rub your clit in circles, his cock covered in your slick gliding against your fingers, and you suppose you can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can he, both your brains turned into mush, and between incoherent moans and groans of oh gods and fuckfuckfucks only three words are exchanged.

“Where?”

“Inside. Pill.”

Your thighs shake around him, body arches off the tabletop, and your cunt sucks him deeper and deeper with every clench. His cock twitches at every spasm but he needs to be patient, you need to fall first. And you do, after he suckles harshly on your nipple, with a loud scream of his name. His name. This is what pushes him off the edge, and he spills inside your throbbing pussy in hot spurts.

There’s a moment of silence, only your quickened pants fill the air. You’re still wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and Osamu thinks that maybe this is his chance. Only chance.

“Lemme take ya to bed.” He whispers in your ear and you nod, so he lifts you off the table and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you down gently, hovering over you, and captures your lips between his once again. Only this time it’s slow, gentle, full of all the words he’s never said. Because this time is not about the hot eruption of anger, not about revenge. It’s about you (and maybe him, if you allow it), about the worship and unspoken feelings.

His kisses trail down, caressing every inch of your skin, every crease and mound of your body, until you ask him to fill you up again. Only then does he push in again, rolling his hips calmly, almost lovingly. Only then does he whisper how beautiful you are in your ear. Only then does he make love to you, until you both fall asleep.

---

You’re woken up by a clinking noise coming from the kitchen, but it takes a moment before your awareness comes back enough to actually process what’s happening. There’s still a faint scent of a cologne and sex in the air; the pillow next to you is rumpled, same as the sheet.

Then it dawns on you—memories of the last night and who you spent it with flow freely into your mind. You wonder if the noise coming from outside of your bedroom is made by your latest hook-up, who just so happens to be your ex-boyfriend’s twin. Your feet search for the slippers but find none; you just throw some t-shirt from the floor on you and patter barefoot to the kitchen.

You’re welcomed with a sight of Osamu’s bare back, very muscular back, marked with long red stripes and a bite mark on his shoulder. There’s a familiar throbbing between your thighs, and it suddenly feels so empty without his cock; even though it’s wrong, it’s wicked, it’s salacious. What the fuck?

The man is still unaware of your presence, digging through the cupboards in search of bowls, plates, chopsticks—anything to serve the breakfast in. For one person, as you notice. Everything is ready, so he places the dishes on a tray and turns to put them on a table, only to be startled by your figure.

“Oh god, ya scared me.”

“Good morning to you too, ‘Samu.”

There’s an awkward silence; you’re still standing facing each other—you in his shirt, him with a tray.

“I made ya breakfast. Thought you’d be hungry when ya wake up.”

“You’re not gonna eat?”

He’s still standing there, but now his eyes are trained on the food, as if he was counting the grains of rice.

“A don’t think ya’d want my company.”

“I do. Stay. Please?”

The smile that shows up on his face is faint, even less visible than the sudden glint in his irises. But he stays, plates another set of dishes and sits by you at the table. The rest of the meal passes in silence; only after the bowls are empty do you speak,

“‘Samu, I’m sorry, I- I used you to—”

“Do ya regret it?” He doesn’t let you finish, his gaze is intense, taking in your confused expression. “Sleepin’ with me. D’ya regret it?”

You let the question sit in your mind for a moment, wait for your conscience to object but it doesn’t happen, so you reply simply, “No.”

“Good. I don’t either. I used ya too, ya know.” Your confusion changes into disbelief, so he leans back on the chair with a sigh and continues. “I got mad. Back in high school I stepped back from pursuing ya. I told ‘im that if he’s serious about ya, A won’t stand in the way. And then looked at ya both wishin’ t’was me. With you. But that dickhead threw it away. I was so mad that I wanted ya to be mine, even just for a moment, yanno?”

It’s a lot to take in, what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? Twin brother of your now ex-boyfriend, the one you have just spent a very pleasant night with, has been feeling something for you? For this whole time? You watch as Osamu shifts to lean on his elbows on the table, face hidden in his palms.

“Sorry for droppin’ that bomb on ya.”

“Do you… Do you still…”

“Love ya? Yeah.” Your heart skips a beat at his words.

“Wait for me. Wait until I heal.”

It’s a selfish request, you know it, but Osamu nods anyway. There’s something to look forward to now, because when you heal, maybe you’ll make the choice you were deprived of.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu smut #miya osamu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #osamu x y/n #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #hq smut #hq x reader #hq x y/n #anilysium server collab #mysh.supernova.[hq]

[engie-ivy]

Okay, so maybe in the past Sirius has said once or twice that he's not really a fan of Valentine's Day, but at least he's keeping an open mind!

Have some short Wolfstar Valentine Fluff!

"Prongs, have I told you how much I hate Valentine’s Day?"

Yes, Padfoot, James wants to say. As a matter of fact, you have. A few times even. And with a few times, I mean a few hundred times. In the last hour. At the very least.

But James knows by now that it doesn't matter what he says, Sirius won't shut up about it, so he doesn't even bother anymore. "Why, Padfoot, you don't say!" He says, without even looking up from his book, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You? Disliking Valentine’s Day? Who would've thought! What a complete and utter shock!"

"It's just so tacky!" Sirius continues, undisturbed. "Gross couples are always gross, do we really need an entire day dedicated to them being gross?"

"It's not only for couples, y'know," James remarks dryly. "You can also just go on a date with someone."

"That's even worse!" Sirius exclaims. "Walking to Hogsmeade together in a long line of other pairs walking to Hogsmeade together? Why, how romantic! And then what? Squeezing into Madam Puddifoot's, where everything's decorated in the most horrific shade of pink, to eat one of those pink monstrosities she calls pastries that taste like nothing but sugar? I think not! And don't get me started on those Valentine chocolates they sell at Honeydukes! I mean, are people stupid? Those boxes contain less chocolate than a normal one, but cost twice that much, only because they're shaped like some ugly heart. The only thing that's worse are those roses people are giving each other. What on earth are you supposed to do with a single rose? And an enchanted one that never withers at that! Who in his right mind would want to keep some useless rose for long anyway?"

James shakes his head while listening to Sirius being some kind of Valentine-grinch. He's relieved when he sees Remus walk over to them, he can use some other company. Unlike Sirius, Remus looks excited, and he's wearing his red jumper especially for Valentine's Day, bless him.

"Hi Padfoot," Remus says, as he stops in front of them, sounding slightly anxious.

"Hi Moony," Padfoot replies.

Hi Prongs, James thinks.

"So," Remus runs a hand through his hair while nervously glancing at Sirius. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go to Hogsmeade? For Valentine’s Day? You and me? Together?"

"Going to Hogsmeade together for Valentine's Day?" Sirius’ eyes grow wide.

Remus nods.

"That sounds wonderful!" Sirius exclaims.

"Really?" Remus asks, his face lighting up in a smile. "Great! I mean, I wasn't sure if it'd be really your thing..."

"Are you kidding me?" Sirius says. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do!"

"I was thinking we could go to Madam Puddifoot's," Remus’ eyes sparkle as he speaks excitedly. "I've been really wanting to eat one of her famous pink Valentine's Day pastries!"

Sirius doesn't skip a beat. "Those are my favourite!"

"Wait," Remus suddenly says. "I almost forgot! I got you something." He reaches into the pocket of his robes, and pulls out one of the enchanted single roses. Blushing, he hands it over to Sirius. "I know it's rather cheesy, but..."

"I love it!" Sirius breaths, staring at the rose like it's the most precious thing he has ever seen. Well, second most precious thing he has ever seen, as he looks up at Remus. "I'm going to keep it forever! But I didn't get you anything."

"Oh, that's okay, I-"

"I know!" Sirius interrupts. "I'll get you one of those heart-shaped chocolate boxes from Honeydukes!"

Remus beams at him. "You'd really do that for me?"

"I'll get you two! Three! Anything for you, Moony!"

Remus beams even brighter. "I can't wait!"

"Me neither," Sirius agrees, beaming right back at him.

Sirius sighs as Remus returns to his seat.

"Prongs, have I told you how much I love Valentine's Day?"

#my tumblr writing #valentine's day #wolfstar valentine #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter

[n1k1tty]

kiss me ! part 1

jake was definitely head over heals for your cold personality, and he wasn't going to let anyone take you. but heres the problem: he couldn't find a single way to keep a conversation with you. despite your scary demeanour, jake decides to man up and does everything out of his will to get you.

fluff, jake x reader, (not proofread)

jake was frustrated to know that many guys have been after you the second you stepped in that classroom doing the bare minimum.

hearing ‘wanna grab lunch with me?’ here and there somehow always made him ball his fist to prevent himself from being a problem. yet again he couldn’t blame other people for wanting to ask you out either. he even sometimes wished that you had rejected him so he could move on. although of course he didn’t really mean that.

because now he was wandering around the school looking for you while he was on a “bathroom break” during his soccer practice. he knew you always liked to stay at the school rooftops admiring the view while listening to music. not like he was stalking you or anything...

you turn your head to look at the person at the door "you again? when are you going to leave me alone? pervert" you scoff, kicking the little pieces of rocks as you avoid jakes eyes. it was almost the millionth time you've seen jake this day, and it was always for the same reason, to piss you off, well more like ask you out --which still pisses you off.

you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?

you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?

"hmmm maybe never?" jake chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes "then i'll move schools --countries if that's what takes for you to leave me alone" as you turn around and face him, eyes widened at the thin space between the both of you "and maybe i'll find you"

you raise your eyebrows "well that's borderline criminal act" you wander off "now sim jaeyun i think it's best for you to leave before you add up to my anger --i mean you already are. but wouldn't that be horrible?" jake's eyes follow you as you drag your feet "not really" he states "you're hot when you're mad"

you scoff out of disbelief, hitting him hard on his arm, looking away almost immediately as you trying to hide your heated face "shut up before i'll push you off this building" letting go of the grip you once had on his collar, "alright, alright sorry ma'am. but if you're really mad for whatever reason, come with me. i'll take you to a place" he suggests, offering his hand for you to take "you should be happy. i normally wouldn't even consider letting anyone know about my spot" he shoots you a grin

you take time trying to consider his offer, but as much as you don't want to stroke his ego about convincing you to go with him, you really needed something to release your anger "as long as you shut up about this" you give him a side glance "no promises" he sends a wink your way "ugh, fine"

he gently takes your hand as he drags you out of the school "can you jump over the wall?" jake looks at your flustered face "....no..?" you answer, making a line with your lips, causing him to let out a small chuckle "okay cutie, i'll help you up" you cringe at the nickname "call me that again and i'll break your neck" you step on his knee as he tries to boost you up "yeah that's right, keep going"

but as jake looks up he couldn't help but feel flustered, looking away "i made it!" you pant, hands resting on your knees as you wait for jake to come up as well. but after a few seconds of not hearing him, you call out his name, peaking your head over the wall "jake? i swear to god if you leave me out here i'm killing you"

"n-no i didn't leave you" he stutters, trying to collect himself from being a flustered mess "then come up here! the sun is setting, you wouldn't want to miss it"

"y-yeah it's just that i uh, i saw.....your....you know?" he explains, his hands not knowing what to do "you saw my what!?" you shrieked "no no it's okay i looked away!" he reassures you "ugh, just- just come up here!" you yell, already walking ahead as you try to cool down your heating face "so pink aye?" jake jokes, catching up to you

"SIM JAEYUN!" you yell, kicking him on his ass "ow! okay sorry!"

jake was resting his head on his hands, watching as you play with the small puddle while watching the sunset, not even an hour in, jake panics as he sees the amount of missed calls from riki "oh shit! my soccer practice!"

--

the following days after that, almost everything remained the same, jake continuously teasing and flirting with you, you getting in trouble for the littlest things, never coming home until the latest of the hour. but yet again, almost everything remained the same

you were now in denial of your feelings towards sim jaeyun. it would hurt too much of your pride to actually admit it, because after all, you've always told sim jaeyun you hated him.

you groan "jake, there's a reason why i'm failing english, okay? just accept the fact that i'm the worst" you bury your head on the pages of your book, seated across jake at the back of the library "i didn't even ask for you to help me! i simply just asked for your notes that just happened to have a first grader's hand writing" he scoffs, a little taken back by your sudden insult on his hand writing "thanks? i know you didn't ask for help, i just wanted to do this with you so that you don't get detention for not knowing proper english" he explains, handing you another sheet of paper with an 54 circled on the right corner "seriously y/n? 54? come on, one last set of questions and i'll take you to the new cafe just across the street"

and almost immediately, you bring your head up, grabbing the pen and taking the set of questions. making jake giggle "y/n, just say that you like me, you know i'm not going to reject you-- ow!" you smack him on the head with the pencil "that's absolute nonsense!" you whisper with a harsh voice, digging your face on the note book as you try to cover the little smile you had on your face

i think it was safe to say you got 4 out of 10 right, causing you to almost have a mental breakdown at the library "i can't do this sim" you groan "i think you just need a break yeah? wanna head to the cafe?" jake stands up to pack your stuff, giggling at the sight of your head still buried in between the pages of the book "c'mon y/n" he kneels beside you "get up, let's go to that cafe"

you've never felt your pride hurt as much as this did, having to show jake how bad your were at english, him having to tutor you without you asking for help, and jake bringing you to the cafe even though you weren't even remotely close to getting at least 6 right

and you weren't exaggerating when when you say jake had to drag you all the way to the cafe "hi! what can i get for you today sir?" the girl says, the obvious heart eyes she has for him pissing you off even more "hi yeah i'd like to have a caramel machiatto" he responds politely, smiling at the obvious glare you held at the girl, poking out your tongue after she was called by the manager, an old lady replaces her "anything else for your girlfriend--" before you could correct her, jake immediately speaks up "she'll have (drink)"

he smiles at the old lady before paying "i'm sending you money later whether you like it or not" you roll your eyes "and i'll send it back" he holds your waist as he leads you to a table, causing your heart to beat 10 times faster "yeah? well i'll send it back to you again! i'll keep doing it until you die!" he scoffs at you "as if!"

--

even after multiple attempts of trying to make jake ask you out, the boy who you thought was so smart couldn't take a single hint at all.

but in jake's defence, you were a little bad, considering how bad you were with boys, he vividly remembers that one time when you were trying so hard to make him jealous by talking to other guys. he even laughed as you struggled to keep up with a conversation.

or that other time when you tried to hold his hand just to do something romantic just for once but ended up letting go because he wouldn't stop teasing you about it. he still took your hand, yet he never asked you out still.

"you okay darling?" your mother asks, taking a quick glance at your droopy form leaning on the counter as you wait for her to finish cooking "is it a boy?" she teases, making you perk your head up "i knew it!" she gives you an endearing smile as she gives you a plate with eggs on it, a heart shaped ketchup placed on the top of the egg "mom!" you whine

"okay fine, it is a boy. but don't tell dad" you whisper, smiling once she zips her lips "what's his name?" she asked, tilting her head as she leans on the counter in front of you "jake"

"jake?! i love jake! you should invite him over sometime" she squeals "he's a nice guy, i'm sure he wouldn't hurt you, so what's bothering you?" you sigh, taking a sip of the water "he likes me, it's like the whole world knows. but he just keeps on flirting with me and never actually tries to ask me out" you pout, aggressively taking a bit of the scrambled eggs, making your mother chuckle "oh baby, i'm sure it'll happen soon. just give him some time! unless if you're that impatient, then maybe you should try considering to be the one who makes the first move" she walks away, heading upstairs

no, as much as you hate it, that would hurt too much of your pride. so you decided to wait.

--

summer just had started and you couldn't even explain how much you hated the heat. staying under the shade 70% of the time whenever you went out with jake and his friends "guys! i have an announcement" jay yells, you were currently over at jay's house, just having a little party with just the 8 of you "my father booked us a trip to hawaii"

"WHAT?!"

part 2

— HEY 👵🏽 so i decided that this would be a multiple part story bcs i didnt want it to be too long!

i haven’t written the second part yet, but hopefully i’d have it done before tuesday

feel free to ask if you want to be tagged once the second chapter is out!

this has been n1k1tty! see ya!

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #enhypen jake x reader #jake x reader #jake sim #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun