#also the bicycle killed me

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

The biggest news out of Israel today is of course that late last night, the government approved a deal with Hamas to release some of the hostages. Here are the details as reported on the news:

50 hostages will be released in 4 groups over the course of 4 days, during which there would be no fighting. Hamas said they will be women and kids, Israel will only be told who's being released the day before. Not all kids are being released. Israel in exchange will release 150 people convicted for terrorist activity. Hamas says it will use these 4 days to try and locate 20 more hostages to be released. Hamas says that some of the hostages are in the hands of smaller terrorist organizations, and some are also being held by civilian families. Just a reminder that some civilians from Gaza followed the terrorists into Israel once the border fence was torn down. Most probably just to loot the houses attacked by terrorists, but at least some partook in the killing of Israeli civilians. Here is a vid of one such man, riding a bicycle stolen from a murdered Israeli, bragging about having killed 3 family members...

For every additional hostage Hamas finds and releases beyond the 50 agreed upon, it will get 3 more convicted terrorists released. For every 10, it will get one more day without fighting, for a total possible break of 6 days. In addition, Israel will not be flying over Gaza, not airplanes and not drones, for 6 hours daily.

It's reported that the stop in fighting will start tomorrow (Thursday) at 10 in the morning. Based on past experience, you can expect Hamas to fire rockets at Israel even past 10, just to show it got the "last word" and Israel will have to contain this, in order to keep the whole deal from falling apart.

The ambivalence about the deal that I tried to express in yesterday's daily post is what I'm hearing almost across the board. People want the hostages who will be freed, they're afraid for the fate of those who won't be, and they're scared of how Hamas might use this break in the fighting.

I think the most infuriating thing Israelis have come across is people describing the deal as "hostage exchange." Multiple Israelis have posted to make the same point: the hostages kidnapped from Israel were all innocent. The prisoners that will be released were all convicted for violent activity. They did not murder, but they tried to.

I saw an interview with one Israeli mother who had survived an attempted murder by a terrorist. She discovered that the woman who committed that crime is one of the prisoners who might be released. The thing is, they used to live in the same neighborhood. The mother asked, "Why should my kid have to see every day the woman who tried to kill me?" Almagor, an Israeli organization for victims of terrorism, has petitioned the Israeli supreme court against the deal. It's not likely to work, as the supreme court has indicated in the past it has no jurisdiction over political decisions, only legal ones.

And of course there's the fear that more Israeli soldiers might pay the price for the fact that Hamas will use the break in the fighting to re-arm and learn from its failures so far. That's the better scenario. There's also the possibility that Hamas would do what they did on "The Black Friday" in 2014. On Aug 1, a ceasefire with Hamas was supposed to start at 8 in the morning. At 9:05 Hamas terrorists used a terror tunnel to attack Israeli soldiers, murder them and kidnap the body of one of them, Hadar Goldin. Nine years later, the body has not yet been returned.

Today is not a day of relief in Israel.

The UK has announced it would allocate 7 million pounds to fighting antisemitism, which is welcome news. Switzerland said it will pass legislation that would prohibit Hamas activity through it.

A uniquely Israeli moment that happened yesterday... Jewish first sergeant Mordechai Shenvald, who was seriously injured in Gaza, playing with his Arab physician, Doctor Darwashe, a song by famous Arab singer Um Kultum, called Inti Umri:

Israel has torn down today a Jewish settlement established illegally in the disputed territories. You'll always hear about when Israel takes down Arab houses built illegally, but I bet most people here havne't heard about it when Jewish Israeli civilians get the exact same treatment for this exact same offense.

This is part of the testimony of a father to a girl with special needs, whose family has survived the Oct 7 massacre:

This is 25 years old Shani Gabai.

She was considered missing since the Oct 7 massacre. Today, her body was identified among the other victims of the music festival.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Instagram

[bargainbinwizard]

What the fuck is wrong with you Israel

I've been pretty silent on the Israel and Gaza war for a long time but it's come to a point that I needed to get magically involved. It's an ugly situation all around. Israel mass murdering Palestinians,Hamas being a thing, Antisemites coming out of the woodwork,Israel booting people from their land and people saying that Israel as a country should cease to exist...even though Jews were native to Israel (aka Canaan) but got conquered by the Babylonians and Romans in ancient times and so as a consequence, they were spread out across the globe getting shat on by everybody in history. But I can't even say that Israel is defending themselves from Hamas because they're too busy fucking around in the Gaza strip shooting down people getting flour.

I'm just going to make it very clear that just because I say that Israel as a country should exist ✨DOES NOT MEAN THAT I SUPPORT ISRAEL KILLING PEOPLE OR THEIR CRUELITY TOWARDS THE PALASTINIANS ✨. I don't want anybody popping onto my page to villainize me and putting words in my mouth. I may not have the funds to save the entirety of Gaza but that doesn't mean I haven't been donating. Also I do my Gaza/Israel reblogging on my main blog,this is just a side blog. That's why you haven't seen anything here. I don't want to hear from any of you that I'm secretly rubbing my hands evilly and cackling watching Israel bomb Rafah.

In short, fuck nazis and people who think that being an antisemite makes you a hero. Go do something useful with your time like donate to Gaza charities like a normal person, would you?

Anyway, in terms of my magical work. I've been focusing on trying to get the news channels on tv to talk about what kind of nasty shit Israel soldiers have been doing in Gaza. There's pictures and videos on the internet from the Palestinians being killed,Israel soldiers talking pictures of themselves on children's' bicycles that they've stolen,olive trees being destroyed and so on and so forth. Yet, the only thing the news wants to focus on is Hamas and making Israel looking like the good guy. If I can get get the news to talk about Israel's war crimes and the corruption in the Israel military /government with pictures then I've done my job. Well,I may need to create a peace spell to somehow make Israel and Gaza stop fighting. Not sure what spell components I need to use.

Its also pretty shitty that there are so many fundraisers to get people out from Gaza and to give people aid that I don't have the funds to save everybody,just give people a measly 20 dollars while their fundraiser goals are several thousand dollars. And if I donate to one charity, I'm not donating to the others and that means they'll have to suffer. I don't have the wallet of Mr. Beast or Bill Gates. I can't save everybody and they might die before they reach their fundraiser goals. And more fundraisers are going to pop up.

EDIT: Added some links. I made it fair by talking about both Hamas and Israel.

#witch #witchcraft #wizard #witchblr #wizardry #wizard community #wizardblr #magician #witch community #gaza #gaza strip #gaza genocide #israel #free palestine #free gaza #wtf is wrong with you israel #fuck hamas #am yisrael chai #magick #magic #Youtube

[gabessquishytum]

Sorry for a non-horny request lol, but I am going crazy with this idea. This is not exactly romantic but it's upto you if you want to make it such.

Warning: major character death

Morpheus de Endless, is a grumpy old man, who has a number of health issues. He also happens to be a best selling author of all time but he does have some controversies surrounding him, most notedly his high profile divorce with a famous artist with whom he had a son but the baby died only a year later. It is said that Mr. De Endless excused himself from his public life after this incident, still that didn’t stop him from suffering a lot under Rodrick Burgess in whose publishing company he worked. Now, at the age of 65, Morpheus de Endless is an isolated man who only lets his doctor visit him once a week.

And then, his family decides that he needs a caretaker. A decision Morpheus absolutely hates because he can take care of himself, but still a care taker is hired. On Monday morning, a young man, probably in his late 20s or early 30s comes to his mansion and takes on all the responsibilities with ease. He is incharge of all the medicines, food (though Morpheus barely eats, taking Morpheus to parks to feed the birds and other things.

Morpheus doesn't like this new man, but he cannot argue with his elder sister about it anymore so he just settles on grumply leaving left over food on his plate or intentionally not having medicines.

Meanwhile, Hob is astonished by this man. It was as if a 10 year old lived in the body of a 60 something man. And Hob was trying really hard to make Mr. De Endless take care of himself, to keep himself alive. Because Hob knew, in fact on the first glance he knew, that Morpheus de Endless didn’t want to live anymore. So he tries his best.

Then one day, he blows up on Mr. De Endless, shouting that the man should at least try to look on the brighter side, to at least maintain a schedule instead of killing his body slowly everyday. And Morpheus understands miraculously. He doesn't like it, but to just make Hob’s job easier he improves his habits a bit. From here, things start getting easier, Morpheus genuinely enjoyes his trip to the park with Hob and even those conversations in the silence of the night in the comfort of his home office where Hob tells him about a family he had lost long ago and in return Morpheus tells him about his son, whom he dearly misses.

Now, here, either we can go for happy ending, or a bitter-sweet one. Personally I am all for some bitter-sweet cake so here we go: one morning, Morpheus wakes up and steals Hob’s bicycle. He has a camera with him which he used a lot in his youth and he uses it now after years to capture the beauty of modern London. He had not explored London like this in 20 years and his heart is full for the first time after losing his child. He also uses a pay phone to call his younger brother who lives in a separate country and they have a heartfelt conversation.

Then he returns home at evening only to be reprimanded by Hob and his elder sister for disappearing like that but Morpheus honestly doesn't mind. When the next morning Hob checks up on him he finds Morpheus dead in his bed. Of course a whole day of cycling for a man with heart conditions is bad news. But he did leave a letter behind for Hob, thanking him for making his last days better than ever.

Ah, thank you for sharing this with me!! It's such a sweet story. I really do love the idea of Hob being this positive spark in Morpheus’s life. He's retreated in on himself, grown used to being alone and become a little resentful of a world that doesn't seem to want him. Then Hob comes in with his stories, his gentle routine and his all around youthfulness. Morpheus finds it annoying: Hob is loud, careless, a little selfish. But then one day Hob has him sit down and flick through his old photos. And Morpheus recollects that he was also once loud, careless and selfish when he was young. He starts cutting Hob some slack, and Hob in turn also becomes more patient. He learns not to be frustrated by Morpheus’s moods, to be kind instead. They find things in common instead of bickering. Sometimes Hob stays the night with Morpheus and they talk about everything, or just fall asleep together. There's love between them now, and it really doesn't matter what kind of love. They both needed it.

Poor Hob. Losing Morpheus is so unexpected, because he was sure that despite his frailty he would live a little longer. He could have had 20 years. Hob sits with the birds and just cries and cries because he loves Morpheus so much and they barely even had a year together.

But he has the camera, and that evidence of Morpheus’s last day. Pictures of strangers and buildings and pigeons. They all mean so much and they're bursting with love. Hob will hang onto those. And he's not sure if and when, but one day he'll hold Morpheus’s hand again, and they'll look at the pictures together.

#the sandman #dreamling #cw major character death #cw grief

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Like Breathing - One

Title: Like Breathing

Word Count: 3.2k

Part Warnings: Dead and injured animals, killing animals, blood, harassment, and stitching up wounds

Summary: Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.

A/N: This is the first part of Like Breathing. I hope you enjoy! As always, thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

Translations:

Маленький = Little one

Like Breathing Masterlist

Bucky didn’t kill anymore. His therapist reminded him of that daily, which he loathed, but he still nodded along every time she said it. Of course, it wasn’t true. Bucky had killed yesterday.

The sleepy little town he had been placed in as part of his pardon was practically idyllic. Neatly trimmed lawns lined litter-free streets, and each afternoon when the schools let out, children rode their bicycles up and down the sidewalks. They played ball in the cul-de-sac and Bucky swore that one afternoon he’d even seen an ice cream truck turn the corner west of his house. The ranch-style, one bedroom home had been loaned to him by the FBI. It wasn’t something Bucky would have picked on his own, but Steve had reassured him that once he got his bearings, he could decorate it to feel more like his own place. Bucky had not done that. Everything was exactly as it was the day he moved in—basic furniture with no decor. The only personal items he kept were his clothes, a small box containing pictures and other items sent to him by the Smithsonian, and his laptop, which was also given to him by the FBI. It was most likely bugged, just like the house and the phone. The majority of the items in the house were either already there when he moved in or things he’d purchased for Alpine. Bucky always thought of those as her personal items, not his. She was the only other living being that had ever been in his house. Not even Steve had come to visit.

In the four months he’d lived in Cove, he had limited his interactions to the soft-spoken volunteer at the animal shelter and the older woman who manned the register at the pet store. Both of them had been instrumental when he adopted Alpine, a soft white cat who’d been surrendered to the shelter after she’d hissed at the previous owner’s kids. Bucky didn’t think that was a good enough reason to get rid of a pet. He hadn’t planned on getting a cat, or any kind of animal for that matter, but after his therapist suggested it, Bucky hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his head. It turned out that while Alpine had more attitude than Steve, she was affectionate when he needed it. Other than that, she preferred to keep her distance the majority of the time. She was welcome company while Bucky worked each day.

Laughter and jeering from his front yard drew Bucky’s attention from where he’d been reviewing surveillance data on the bugged laptop. He sighed and got up from the kitchen table, pushing his chair back and ignoring the screech it made as the legs scraped across the old linoleum. Alpine darted out from underneath the table at the sound, sprinting down the hall to the safety of the bedroom, just as she did every day at this hour.

As he trudged through the living room, Bucky didn’t have to wonder what was waiting for him when he opened the front door. Every time it was the same: a pickup speeding off with men teetering in the bed and some form of roadkill bleeding out on the sidewalk in front of his house. His stretch of sidewalk was the only one that kids never played on, and for good reason. The brown stains left by months worth of dead animals never seemed to go away, no matter how much Bucky scrubbed.

Jaw clenched, Bucky grabbed the bucket of tools from just inside the door and headed down to the front of his yard. The deer was young, practically still a fawn, and his chest tightened at the sight. Its chest rose and fell unsteadily and the panicked look in his eyes was all too familiar.

Slowly, Bucky knelt down beside the frightened animal, his back to the street. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he soothed. 

The animal had been hit by a car—he’d seen these wounds plenty of times—and there was little chance it would survive. Most likely, it would bleed out excruciatingly slow on the sidewalk as the sun sank below the horizon.

“Let’s get you into the backyard, huh? It’s okay.” He kept his voice soft and even as he spoke to it, explaining what he was doing. He knew it couldn’t understand him, but after months of practice, he knew that talking to them kept them calm and kept him from getting a hoof or claw to the face.

Bucky unfolded the tarp from the five-gallon bucket and carefully manipulated the poor animal onto the plastic. Dragging it across the yard to the back of the house was easy, and when it was situated with the forest in view, Bucky left it to get his bucket of tools.

He hated every minute of this ordeal. Sometimes the animals were already dead. Those were the good days. He could simply haul the animal into the woods and leave it for the scavengers. This kind of animal, the ones that were left to suffer in plain view of his living room, were the cases he hated. His nightmares were plagued with them now, their whimpers interspersed with those of his victims long ago.

The most humane thing Bucky could do in situations like these was to put the animal down himself. The first time the creature had still been alive when the men had dumped it, Bucky had attempted to take the animal to the emergency vet less than a mile away. He’d been turned away at the door. The police were no help either, as the sheriff was almost always seated in the back of the pickup. He’d tipped his hat at Bucky one day while they sped away. Bucky had punched a hole in the living room wall.

“You’ll feel better soon,” Bucky said, eyeing the deer as he loaded what he would need into his waistband.

He dragged the tarp into the woods, into the clearing near the meadow. The young deer lifted its head, its longing for the rolling waves of grass and wildflowers clear as it groaned and settled back on the forest floor. Blood slicked over the blue plastic tarp beneath it and Bucky looked away, readying his weapon.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. He looked away as he pulled the trigger. The familiar sound of the silenced gunshot didn’t phase him, and Bucky quickly cleaned up the remains, leaving them for the scavengers once he’d removed the bullet.

After hosing down his equipment and leaving it in the garage to dry, Bucky grabbed a bucket of soapy water and the stiff-bristled brush he used to scrub the sidewalk. He stepped out of the garage, but froze almost immediately.

Another animal had been left in the deer’s place, this time significantly smaller in stature. Bucky glanced back at his drying tools, then set his cleaning bucket down on the driveway. Water sloshed over the side onto the asphalt but he ignored it. In just a few long strides, Bucky knelt down at the animal’s side.

The cat’s fur was matted with blood and it whined pitifully as soon as he was within earshot, but when Bucky reached out to touch it, it hissed and tried to scramble away.

“Hey, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s okay.”

A flash of white made Bucky pause. He blinked and Alpine was between him and the other cat, her tail aloft as she stuck her curious nose in the injured feline’s face.

“Alpine, leave them alone!” Bucky scolded. “How did you even get out here?”

Alpine simply ignored him and moved to investigate the other animal further. He looked around, spotting the front door open. He must’ve forgotten to close it and Bucky inwardly kicked himself for making such a stupid mistake. It was usually more about what—or who—could get in his house than what could get out.

Sighing, Bucky reached out to pick up his cat. She obliged his touch, affectionately rubbing her head against his hand when he was close enough. The cat laying on the sidewalk watched Alpine intently as Bucky scratched behind her ears, then scooped her up and carried her back up the driveway and into the house. He shut the front door behind her, then went back to the injured animal’s side.

“You gonna let me help you now?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice soft. “Huh?” He reached out a hand and though the cat tensed, he was able to smooth back the matted fur to find the injury.

The cat had a long cut stretching down its right hind leg, from the hip all the way down to the paw. The blood had already begun to clot, which was a good sign, but it was still a cause for concern. If he jostled the animal too much, they could begin to bleed again. 

“You really got into some trouble there, didn’t you?” As if to reply, the cat meowed and laid its head down on the stained concrete. It still watched him, but it had relaxed and Bucky felt a bit more confident in his ability to move it into the house where he could stitch up its leg. 

“Alright, I’m gonna pick you up. I promise I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he said. He continued to softly narrate his actions as he lifted the cat and held it against his chest, then went into the house through the garage. He jabbed his metal thumb into the button beside the door so that the garage would shut behind him, just in case Alpine decided she wanted to do any more adventuring today.

Alpine, true to form, was waiting for him when he stepped inside the house. She immediately started weaving around his feet, and Bucky would’ve tripped over her if he wasn’t as agile.

“Careful, sweetheart. We gotta be nice to our guest,” he chided when she jumped up on the table. Bucky set the cat down on top of the newspaper he’d left spread out during his research earlier that day. He could get a new copy later if he needed to. Right now his priority was to clean and stitch up the cat’s wound. 

After an hour of work, the injured cat had a freshly shaved leg with a freshly cleaned and stitched wound. She had, surprisingly, stayed still and quiet for the majority of the time, only watching Bucky with wide, frightened eyes. He’d discovered that the cat was a girl partway through, which had been more of a relief than anything. Alpine had taken quite a liking to the new animal. Maybe once the animal healed, his little friend could have a friend of her own, given that nobody came looking for her. Friends he could handle, but kittens were a whole other story.

Bucky shook his head as he went back to cleaning up the table. It was a methodical task, one he could appreciate, but he kept glancing back over his shoulder to check on the cat, who’d fallen asleep shortly after he’d finished. He’d set her up near the litter box, and he’d moved the food and water a bit closer so that she wouldn’t be walking as far on the injured leg. Alpine had curled up for a nap of her own on the floor nearby.

When you woke, it took you a second to remember where you were and what had happened. It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up in a strange house in your feline form, but the injured leg and the fluffy white cat snoozing nearby were a first. Rarely did you ever get hurt. Usually the wound healed well enough on its own, but the trauma from being grabbed by the strange man with the grubby hands and then being tossed off the back of the pickup had exacerbated the cut and your healing had come to a halt.

You’d been wary of the dark-haired man who’d found you. He’d had an aura of shame and fear about him, and you’d immediately recoiled. Then, the little white cat had appeared out of nowhere. She was his cat, she’d said in so many words, and the man was good. He fed her, played with her, and the house was warm and safe. You’d relented and taken a good look at him. Warmth had settled into your bones despite your injury and your gut had told you that the white cat was telling the truth. The man with the metal arm was good.

He had carried you inside, cradling you against his chest with the gentlest of touches. He seemed to know what he was doing as he fixed up your leg. At some point after he’d tended to the gash, you’d passed out from the pain and exhaustion.

Now, you were in a soft bed on the floor of his laundry room. You slowly uncurled and managed to prop yourself up without putting too much weight on your injured leg. You had to be careful—if it didn’t heal right, you could get stuck in this form forever, or your human form could suffer the effects of the injury as well.

Alpine lifted her head and blinked sleepily when she sensed your movement.

You’re awake.

“How long has it been since I passed out?” you asked.

She looked towards the back door, where the night sky was visible through several small panes of glass. Only a few hours.

A shout from upstairs made you jump, and Alpine was off like a shot. She raced out of the laundry room through the kitchen, and you heard her scramble down the hall. Another shout piqued your curiosity and you limped after her. Whimpers and a heavy sob were enough of a trail for you to follow.

The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, Alpine clutched against him and his face buried in her fur. He cried as you cautiously hobbled into the bedroom, sticking to the shadows along the walls. Your fur wasn’t dark enough to hide you completely, but it would keep you hidden long enough for you to judge the situation.

Alpine purred soothingly and you listened to the man cry as you looked around the room. The top of the dresser and the nightstand were empty except for a small digital clock and the man’s charging phone. Every space in the house, from what you’d seen, was strangely barren. There was nothing personal to tell you about your rescuer, and while that should have made you uneasy, it only made the sad pit in your stomach grow deeper.

You let out a quiet whimper when a twinge ran down your leg and the man stiffened. He lifted his head from Alpine’s fur and peered around the room.

“Маленький?” he murmured. “Is that you?”

Hesitantly, you crept away from the wall and into the dim light coming from the moon outside. You knew your eyes would glint in the light and he’d be able to find you easier that way. 

Just as you’d suspected, the man’s attention snapped to you as soon as you were in the light. He set Alpine down on the bed and carefully knelt on the hardwood floor, his hand trembling as he reached out to you.

“You shouldn’t be up and moving around so soon,” he chided, and you meowed in irritation.

He hovers, Alpine said from her perch on the bed. You glanced up at her. When he’s worried, he hovers. When he’s scared, he hovers.

You let the man brush his fingers against your fur. He exhaled shakily and you stepped closer until he could run his hand over your back. The feeling was sublime and you arched under his touch. It had been so long since someone had touched you with such gentleness and care, and you knew then that you were a goner. You’d stay with this man for as long as you could.

“Thank you for saving me,” you told him, though you knew he couldn’t understand you in this form. 

The man smiled a little. It didn’t reach his eyes, but he seemed to appreciate the tidbit of interaction you’d given him. In response, you bumped your head against his knee, rubbing against the soft fabric of his pajamas.

“I wonder if you’ve got a name or an owner out there,” he mused. He continued to pet you as you rubbed against his legs. Eventually, you stood still and peered up at Alpine, who had settled with her tail just over the edge of the mattress. She twitched it, knowing you could see, and you narrowed your eyes at her challenge. Alpine was a young cat, and though she was sweet and naive enough to believe that you were just like her, you sensed an air of playfulness and spice about her.

Noticing your change in focus, the man scooped you up and lifted you onto the bed. You wobbled a little on the mattress before batting at Alpine. She flipped over to play and you indulged her, playing as much as you could without putting the health of your leg in jeopardy.

“What’s the man’s name?” you asked, dodging her paw.

Alpine chirped back at you. Bucky, she said. That’s what the men on the phone always call him.

“The men on the phone?” 

They call almost every day. He likes some of them. The others make him sad and angry.

You filed that information away for later use, and you were reaching out to block Alpine’s paw again when Bucky picked her up. He shifted her up near his pillow, then reached for you. On instinct, you backed away, your ears flattening when the metal of his arm glinted in the moonlight filtering in through the window.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky soothed. “I won’t hurt you, remember?”

Another twinge of pain shot up your leg to your hip. You let out a sharp yelp when it twitched and hit the bedpost. Instantly, Bucky’s forehead creased in concern and he eased his flesh hand between your back and the wooden post.

“Easy now. I don’t want you falling off or hurting yourself more. You wanna get down off the bed? Is that what you want?”

You let out a slow breath and stared at him, forcing yourself to relax. You looked down at the floor and then at him in hopes that he would take that as a ‘yes’. When Bucky reached out and moved to pick you up again, you let him. He lowered you down onto the floor without another word. You scooted underneath the bed, closing your eyes when the feeling of being sheltered and safe settled into your bones. 

“She’ll be okay, Alpine.”

Bucky’s voice was barely audible in the silence under the bed and you peeked open an eye, listening.

“She’s gotta be.”

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Series: @almosttoopizza​​

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky angst #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel reader insert #reader insert

[cherubshert]

𐙚 ꯱ׁׅ֒tׁׅꭈׁׅɑׁׅ֮ᨰׁׅϐׁׅ֒ꫀׁׅܻꭈׁׅꭈׁׅᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ ℘ᨵׁׅᝯׁƙׁׅ֑ᨮ꫶ׁׅ֮ ƙׁׅ֑ꪱׁׅ꯱ׁׅ֒꯱ׁׅ֒ꫀׁׅܻ꯱ׁׅ֒

a/n: this is just fiction. reader chokes on a pocky.

"i bought it!" "why?" niki looks at you blankly, before shrugging. "idk it seems cute. " "but i can't ride a bicycle" " its a tandem bike, you don't have to do anything, just hold me." "can you ride a bike?" "yes i can." he reaches for the picnic basket, placing it, in the front basket of the bike.

"hurry, it's gonna rain, i want us to be in the park before then." you hesitantly comply, setting on the seat behind him, your hand wrapping around his waist. "you comfy angel?" "yeah, a little scared." "why? trust me ." "more reason to be terrified." he scoffs, "I'm your boyfriend now, trust me."

with that your off, your chin rested on his shoulder, watching the scene before you. he presses a kiss to your cheek, "focus on the road lover boy." he giggles...

a usual trip of 20 minutes us shortened to ten, the park is pretty vacant, you and niki hop off the bike, walking towards a part of the park practically reserved for the both of you. a small gazebo, decorated with vines and flowers. you both settle in, placing the pastries you both made down ina slightly organized manner. and with the soft clap of thunder, the rain starts to fall.

"we should dance in the rain." "no, my mom will kill you if i get sick. and also i spent way too much time on my hair" you pick up the pack of pocky . placing the strawberry flavored snack between your lips, wiggling it at the boy. he smiled, grabbing the other side and breaking it off. "that's not how you do it?!" he snickers, chewing on the piece. " you don't wanna kiss me?" his ears flush, the pink shade trailing to his cheeks.

"you know when you confessed to me you said you wanted to kiss me." he takes another of the snack, mimicking your earlier action. you interlaced your fingers , taking big bites if the snack, and as your lips brush, you pull away coughing and giggling. "ew!" you smile up at him, wrapping your hands around his neck .

he pushes you away running around the gazebo with you following close behind, eventually ending up with the both of you in the rain. frolicking and dancing just like he wanted. but you didn't mind.

#kpop fanfic #kpop x poc reader #cherubshert diary. #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x black reader #enhypen x reader #niki x reader #niki fluff #niki fanfic

[swifty-fox]

After reading all the sexy clegan asks, I would pay some good money to watch their OF 😵‍💫. I feel like this is a more polite way of saying I want to be the fly on the while while gale gets twisted into a pretzal. Or while John gets bent over the dinner table. Swifty, my dude (slides a case full of money across a table), how do you feel about an AU where two beautiful entrepreneurs take agency of their body's and their sexualities and make some good, honest money... together 😉. (I feel like I'm turning into Barry in Saltburn. I would drink the bathwater. SEND HELP. I need psychiatric care now!)

John Gamer Girl Bathwater lmao.

but!! your mind anon lmao. I got to spend a fun night with a couple aussie SW's a few years ago after a cancelled festival (not in THAT way. had a mutual acquaintance and offered to hang out with them since we all suddenly had no plans) and It was fun picking their brains about their lives. They were both primarily dancers.

John starts an only fans after graduating college with a degree in sports management. It's not that he CAN'T get a job but he's suddenly like 'fuck just because i like sports do i really wanna make this my career???' kinda lounges around a bit until the bills poke him on the shoulder. He's like hmmmmm wow if i go into the service industry i'll kill someone. I'm hot I got abs and a mustache and I'm six three I can probably do this. Starts off with a lotta POV handjobs and general thirst traps. He doe's great, its John Egan so he's just got that natural charisma and his voice is deep and shoulders broad and he's real good at dirty talking so he does custom audios for a price. Gets into the collab world on twitter and kinda shoots up in fame real quick. More of a top, bi asf like all my au's so he's kinda going across the board. He's pretty open about what his job is and the people who have a problem with it he kindly tells to fuck off

Gale starts one to put himself through his masters degree then finds out it kinda just.... makes a lot more money with a much looser schedule LOL.

He takes a long while to get good at it. He's hot as hell and has all the creepy dom top accounts all over him but he's shy and takes him a long time to figure out how to sell his content properly. He can't quite get into the cock hungry bottom bitch slut role that people wanna shove him into and it hurts him a bit. But he does manage to get a decently sized following pretty quick. King of the moaning clips, great fuckin one-on-one vidoes of him riding a toy.

John stumbles across Gale as everyone does: scrolling the porn tag on twitter looking for a lil somethin somethin. Those pretty lips wet and flushed as if they've been thoroughly used and those soulful eyes looking up at the camera as Gale hangs his head off the edge of a bed ready to be a perfect sleeve for his dick.

He wrings one out real fuckin quick, drops him a follow and a DM in that order introducing himself and asking if he's ever done a collab.

of course Gale already follows John. He thinks he's handsome but hes got no interest mixing business and pleasure (lmao just wait pookie). He's also never done a collab, never fucked another person on camera. But. but.

John is handsome.

And he knows the guy is legit and safe, has seen him ALL OVER (certified bicycle John Egan always) and knows he's had good reviews.

Gale's had many DM's asking for collabs. This is the first he accepts.

How can he not when John is in there saying "Hey man great content. Would to love maybe have you fuck me" as casual as can be.

Gale's never thought to FUCK someone on camera. Sure he likes both but like I said people want a certain image from. So that in of itself is appealing.

He agrees wholeheartedly

He puts John on his knees on a mattress and pulls his hair until his eyes water, presses him down with a hand between his shoulderblades for that perfect fuckin arch and and spanks him until John is jumping away from even a brush of his hands and whimpering, camera angled to get the perfect shot of his tear stained cheeks.

"Come on darlin," gale croons in that drawl "The people wanna see you break for them, give it all to me."

He fucks John, ass still stinging so he flinches every time Gale bottoms out but damn does he love it and damn does it make for good content.

John comes out of that session already in love.

and of course collabs usually film a bunch of content. gotta capitalize.

So after some rest and recuperation John does exactly what he's fantasized about and lays Gale over the edge of his bed and fucks his throat. Loud and wet and noisy. Spit and pre-come and tears dripping down Gales face into his hair; onto the floor. John takes a little break to rub it all over his face and tell him he makes such a good pocket pussy. Gale's gunna come just from this if Johns not careful. He doesn't have to worry though because once John goes back down his throat he reaches over and gives Gale a nice handy.

Spins him around and fucks him while he's too sensitive and screaming, half cringing away from it but also grinding back because fuck is does John know how to fuck.

John gripping gales hips in his big hands and telling him "Now you're not running away from me yet sweetheart haven't rode you raw yet"

They fuck a lot more. a LOT more. For the content of course. And then theyre like hey maybe we should move in together as colleagues and friends. Except??? maybe?? they start fucking off camera. And maybe they cuddle on the couch. and hold hands. and kiss and go on dates. And maybe they get married?? As colleagues of course.....or not

#swiftytalks #lore drop alert #buck x bucky #mota #i gotta go to the gym in a bit so send your Q's now! #OF AU #i really wrote this all out at 7 am i aint even had my oatmeal yet #if you wanna ask me about smut i AM going to be nasty

[blocksgame]

a little purgatory q!fitpac for you

(/rp) (set during yesterday 11/7 when they had the mutual assinations missions)

They set a time and place. It’s near mid, which ups the risk, but - you know, call him crazy, Fit doesn’t feel the need to bother telling Forever where he's going or what he’s doing.

Squinting, he sees a little figure in the distance jump off a cliff. It catches itself with a glider at the last second, smoothly. It gets close enough to become distinct. Like a kid, Fit smiles. Right on time.

“Hi Fit!” Pac waves.

“Pac!” Fit shouts, and walks toward him.

Pac sprints.

They both slow when they get within placing distance. Pac looks like shit. He’s busted up. He doesn’t normally take the hoodie off, but he has now in the desert heat. His undershirt is torn and his strong arms are cut up. He looks miserable.

Fit looks hot. He’s also cut up and his clothes are torn up to catch sweat and for bandages, but that’s what they were always for. Waiting.

“Fit! I’m so happy to see you. Are you gonna kill me?” Pac asks.

Not unless – are you going to – other things Fit might say die on his tongue. He shakes his head. “No,” he says, firmly.

“Oh, okay.” Pac gets a little closer. “That’s good.”

“Pac, how are you?”

“Oh, well, pretty bad,” says Pac. “Um, a crocodile nearly ate me getting here, and, I don’t – I’ve died like ten times today – and – I don’t know, Fit, it’s a nightmare!”

At last, they reach out to each other and hug rather desperately. Fit braces himself because expects the touch to be a lot, back in his old ways as he’s been, but really it’s only been three days and hugging Pac is kind of like riding a bicycle. Pac squeezes him hard and Fit squeezes him just the same, for a while.

“How – how are you?” Pac asks, against his neck.

“I’m okay,” Fit reassures him. “I’m okay. ...This is kind of like what I’m used to, you know? Not trusting anyone and hidden bases and finding resources and – it’s kind of fun? It’s not, like, fun fun, but…”

“That’s good,” says Pac. “I’m glad. I kept thinking, this is the kind of thing Fit would like – but I didn’t know if, if you would, or if…”

Fit huffs a laugh. “I mean, it’s not summer camp. But, but it’s got its charms. To me, at least. Maybe not to anyone else.” If you’re as much of an asshole as Fit, of course.

Pac nods. “Oh, I’m really glad. It makes sense. I mean, you only died once that I saw, right?” They pull apart.

“Yeah. Fucking tiger.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, don’t be. I’m sorry you’ve been – well, you know. Having it rough.”

“Hah...”

Pac’s hair is unruly and falling in his eyes. A known terror of the wastelands, a man who leaves no survivors, pushes it out of the way. “Is Tubbo taking care of you?” he asks, as gentle as he knows how.

Wide-eyed, Pac nods.

“That’s good.” Not that Pac needs it. Fit knows better, except that Pac doesn’t know better and right now it looks like he really does need it.

He’d vaguely considered proposing that they trap Red’s portal, or some other kind of mischief, for fun, but – They just sit together, under an acacia tree, leaned together. Pac shifts and shuts his eyes and breathes it in. Fit puts his arm around his shoulder. In lieu of a hand to hold, Pac rests his hand on Fit’s knee.

Fit manages to give them both ten minutes. Eventually his danger-sense gets too high. Just about sitting in the open like this, what’s he thinking? Maybe they could stay together for longer if they worked on tasks, but that’s always riskier. If someone gets the jump on one of them, Fit will have to decide what to do. Being here is even more fun than Fit let on. He just didn’t want to sound like a demon in front of Pac. But when he imagines someone else rolling up on them, coming up to mid, he’s not even trying to do the math - he doesn’t want to be in a position to pick more battles. Is that cowardice? Is it protectiveness?

“I should really get back to grinding,” he says.

Pac just nods. He has work too. Now he knows that Fit is alive and well, as well as possible, and cares about him. He misses Mike. He misses their old life and when they had more and when being bad at things hurt less. “Me too,” he says. He has to keep going. “Should we kill each other for the quest?”

The terror of the wastelands shuts his eyes. “Let’s not.”

“Okay.”

And they both walk away.

#qsmpshipping #fitpac #qsmp purgatory #fic #q!fitmc #q!pactw

[animentality]

There's just something so compelling about the idea of Dark Urge being the most touch starved repressed motherfucker you've ever seen, and then falling for a man who's fucked half of baldur's gate's nobility, because he's the city bicycle.

I'm like imagining Dark Urge being so clumsy and awkward and embarrassed to the point of murderous rage, while Gortash is like sweetheart let me lead here.

Plus you know Gortash doesn't see it as anything, because he's used sex to get what he wants a million times, while Dark Urge only takes one sex to begin fervently plotting their Bhaalist marriage, killing each other on his father's altar deep underground in the Temple.

Like that's peak comedy, it's also a tragedy.

Neither of them know how to have meaningful physical interactions or anything close to true intimacy. One has sex, but does not know how to love, while the other simply isn't allowed to love.

Ugggggh if I think about these two any more I'm going to throw up.

#durgetash #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #enver gortash #dark urge

[female-malice]

Women's freedom of movement and freedom to cycle have been at the heart of feminism for 130 years

And men know this. And that is why they harass female cyclists. They want to intimidate us and keep us from claiming our freedom through cycling.

The most recent counts by the City of Portland estimate that only three out of every 10 bicycle riders are women and the gender split hasn’t budged since counting started in 2006. In east Portland, the City tabulated just 17% of all bike riders as women. As we ponder the reasons for this disparity, a survey has revealed one factor that’s causing it: the high rate of demeaning interactions and aggressive behaviors some women experience while riding.

A survey conducted in February by nonprofit BikeLoud PDX asked women to describe the worst or most common incident of abuse they’ve experienced while cycling. A shocking 311 out of the 329 women who answered that question reported some level of traumatic incident. The woman who led the survey project, Cathy Tuttle, analyzed the results and found that 229 respondents experienced a Level 3 Trauma (swearing, honking, catcalling, rolling coal, etc), 53 experienced a Level 2 Trauma (deliberate close pass, tailgating, menacing, etc), and 29 experienced a Level 1 Trauma (hit and run, throwing projectiles, aggressive stalking, etc) — the most severe category of abuse.

The vast majority of these aggressive behaviors came from people driving cars. Respondents said 88% of the aggressors were in cars, 7% were identified as homeless people and 5% were other bike riders.

In a summary of the survey results made public Monday, Tuttle shared several examples of the responses. I’ve pasted a few of them below:

A man screaming “get the f*ck off the road” repeatedly while I was cycling on a low traffic route downtown, revving their engine constantly and pulling up too close behind me. I finally got off the road, shaking and crying and called 911. The dispatcher told me there was “nothing we can do, it’s not illegal.” She didn’t want me to report the behavior, even though I had the license plate.

I had a driver stop to tell me that I needed a rear bike light so they could see me. I didn’t respond so the continued to verbally harass me. When the light changed they followed me and kept trying to yell at me. Eventually I came to park and biked into it so they couldn’t follow me. I was scared to bike for a while after that.

A woman yelling out her (passenger) side window “hit the bitch” after I pointed to the stop sign that they were rolling through when I had right of way.

Tuttle also included a longer response from someone who took the survey that is worth reading (edited slightly for brevity):

After he physically threatened me with his car, and after honking, I was told by a man, “I’m going to kill you the next time I see you” while I was biking — legally — on a typically busy (but not at all busy right then) 3 or 4-lane one-way road that has no cycling-specific infrastructure and doesn’t see much bike traffic, but which was at the time a crucial connector that I needed to be on to get across a freeway without going extremely far out of my way…

He didn’t yell it. He said it slowly, deliberately. I’ll never forget it. It wasn’t inflamed reactive rage; it was a slow, methodical, simmering threat. He looked right at me. I can still hear it many years later: I’m going to kill you. I’ve had men in SUVs and trucks deliberately swerve into me, almost, but not quite, hitting me more times than I can count. This is a cross-Oregon problem, in urban, suburban, ex-urban, and rural areas, all of which I’ve biked in extensively. I’ve been called a dumb c—, a stupid b—-, and other misogynist slurs, again, more times than I can count. I’ve also been treated to yelling misogyny from male street joggers, who run in the street against traffic all the way to the side of the road, right where cyclists typically are… This is weirdly common in Portland, and they are often very rhetorically and even physically aggressive. I’ve also been in collisions with street joggers, and their dogs, and I, the cyclist, have always been the more injured person, so it’s a real problem actually. I’ve encountered groups of 3 men jogging with 2 or 3 huge dogs who are taking up literally the entire street and are very aggressive when confronted with a cyclist — me, one woman — trying to get to work. Once I was biking to work in Portland with a male cyclist who was behind me, and a truck deliberately swerved into me at a high rate of speed to threaten me or worse, and the man who was biking behind me chased the driver down and yelled at him because he saw it all happen in a way I did not have the vantage to and he was pissed. The truck driver was likely annoyed by my male companion, who he encountered first, but didn’t do anything. Then when he encountered me, he became enraged and deliberately tried to intimidate me by swerving into me. If anything had “gone wrong,” I’d probably be dead now, due to the speed of the driver. Still have a pretty visceral reaction to light blue Leer-brand pick-up truck toppers to this day because of this decades-ago incident. None of these described incidents are rare, aberrant, unusual, or even, really, worthy of note anymore, but they’re the specific ones that come immediately to mind with no thought at all, but that are representative of a whole problem. They happen ALL THE TIME, for seemingly no reason often. The misogyny comes out almost immediately, reflexively. I feel that if a female cyclist doesn’t preemptively display deference to motorists — of any sex, but especially male — they will be targeted, and if we’re assertive, then all the more so. But cyclists need to be assertive to be safe. Male cyclists too often seem like they’re not our allies (aside form the aforementioned male cyclist — this was actually a rare instance in my experience). The dismissive ‘male glance’ is real, on the bike as in all of life. I can distinctly recall men realizing another cyclist (me, almost 50) is behind them, at a red light or whatever, and looking back, only to discover a woman who is older than he is, on a not-interesting-to-him bike, with no interesting blingy gear on it, and have him turn away, barely able to acknowledge I was there at all. What was he expecting to see? A sexualizable object young enough to be worthy of his attention? Men are far more sexist than they can admit. As many jobs become more gender-integrated, men find new ways to assert their male supremacy. There seems to me to be a distinct strain of “biking everywhere with no infrastructure makes me a man” in the Portland bike ecosystem and it’s detrimental to a lot of folks, not just adult women. We live in a deeply sexist society and misogynist backlash to feminist gains is observantly real across both dominant culture and most if not all subcultures. Women already experience this whether they have the interpretive lens to see it or not. Many women I know just don’t want to be extra-burdened by the physical and emotional danger of biking routinely for transportation, because they’re already burdened enough in a way men just aren’t.

The responses to this survey give us all a lot to think about and should add urgency to create a better cycling environment in Portland.

Tuttle based her survey on one conducted by the Women’s Freedom campaign in London. She said after hearing similar responses to their survey, bike advocates in London built an entire campaign around it with rides, petitions, letters to city council, etc.

What should Portland do to address this problem?

— Read the survey summary here.

#cc

[danpuff-ao3]

Draco Malfoy: Rare Pair Rec List

If you know me, you know Draco is my fandom bicycle. Pass that boy around, baby! So here are a list of some of my favorite Draco-ship fics with various rare pairs! Different ships, different vibes, all kinds of goodies!

A Lesser Magic

by lq_traintracks (@lqtraintracks). Draco/Albus Severus. Rated: E. Words: 5,005. Daddy kink. Age play. Praise kink.

⭐️ Obsessed with this one. Pretty sure it will live in my brain forever.

Draco and Albus find something in each other that they can’t possibly get from anyone else.

A Room with a View in the Flowering City

by wolfpants (@wolfpants). Draco/Bill. Rated: E. Words: 1,446. Friends with benefits. Colleagues. Power imbalance. Minor Draco/Harry.

During Draco's internship at Gringotts, Bill and Draco get to know each other in surprising ways. For Bill, it's fun, but also comforting.

Reciprocity

by crystalusagi. Draco/Blaise. Rated: E. Words: 326. Dubious consent.

Draco gets more than he bargained for.

Danger in Frustration

by gracerene (@gracerene). Draco/Charlie. Rated: E. Words: 3,569. Mild dub-con. Dirty talk. Virginity. Intergluteal sex. Just the Tip.

⭐️ "Just the Tip" is one of my favorite tags!

Draco doesn't believe in sex before marriage. Charlie's found a loophole.

A Regal Affair

by FangQueen (@fangqueen). Draco/Cormac. Rated: E. Words: 5,079. Underage drinking. Underage kissing. Implied/referenced drug use. Frottage. Desk sex. Quickies.

There was nothing even all that special about Malfoy. Sure, he was pleasant enough to look at, if you liked the pointy, pale, platinum blonde sort. He had a nice arse―what could be discerned about it through those impossibly tight trousers he insisted upon wearing. And he was a decent kisser, from what Cormac could remember. Still, why all the men seemed to flock to him in droves, he thought he may never understand.

Take It In Trade

by gracerene (@gracerene). Draco/Dolohov. Rated: E. Words: 3,130. Dubious consent. Sex for favors. Power imbalance. Hogwarts 7th year.

Without a wand, and with his family out of favour with the Dark Lord, Draco finds himself in need of protection. Draco is fairly certain Antonin Dolohov will provide it, but he's not going to do it for free.

Killing Fields

by calrissian18. Draco/Firenze. Rated: M. Words: 9,938. Bestiality. Angst.

In which nothing dies but reluctance.

Walking Shadow

by ThreeSidedOrchid. Draco/Hagrid. Rated: E. Words: 4,085. Draco/Snape.

Some days after are harder than the war itself. "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing." (Macbeth V.v.19-28).

Brighter Than the Sun

by GoldenTruth813 (@goldentruth813). Draco/James Sirius. Rated: E. Words: 23,798. Curse Breaker Draco. Auror James. First time. Denial of feelings.

James Sirius Potter is gorgeous. He's also half Draco's age. Getting emotionally involved with him would be a complete and utter disaster. Fortunately for Draco, he's had a lifetime of practice compartmentalizing his feelings. Draco can definitely handle fucking James—young, beautiful, rash James Sirius Potter—with no strings attached.

A Persuasive Performance

by Alisanne. Draco/Kingsley. Rated: E. Words: 2,681. Draco/others. Prostitution.

It was just another night on the job for Draco until a customer came in with a very specific request.

Whatever You Can Dream Up Next

by spacekc929. Draco/Moody. Rated: E. Words: 57,505. Consensual kink. Past rape/non-con. Under-negotiated kink. Daddy kink. Age difference. Size difference. Rough/painful sex. Crying. Fear play. Aftercare. Various other kinks and warnings.

⭐️ Full of filth. 10/10.

Alastor Moody is fifty-one years old when he accepts a scrawny, traumatized, eighteen-year-old Death Eater into his home through Harry Potter’s new pet project, the Young Parolees Initiative.

AKA, the obscenely cross-generational Draco/Moody BDSM romance no one ever asked for, featuring a protective, obsessive, sadistic Alastor whose capacity for tenderness is outmatched only by his depraved imagination, and a Draco with trauma who wants nothing more than to be Alastor’s good boy.

The Ugly Duckling and the Peacock

by Vukovich (@vukovich). Draco/Neville. Rated: E. Words: 12,357. Veela Draco. Herbology Professor Neville. Potions Master Draco. Accidental bonding. Scent kink. Fluff. Angst. Humor.

“Aye,” Hagrid said, nodding somberly. “Yer a Veela, Draco. Well, a bit." -- By Thursday evening, I had managed to entirely avoid sitting near Longbottom at meals. I had only walked slowly past his classroom door three times. I’d only snuck up behind him and smelled him four times. He caught me twice. And I’d only stood outside his bedroom door at 3 AM and jerked off in my robes the one time. -- My fingers threaded through his soft hair, and he sighed into mine, and I would have stayed like that for days. “Did you write a book on Veela-fucking?” I murmured. He chuckled. “No, I just read it a few times.”

Only One Word

by EntreNous. Draco/Remus. Rated: E. Words: 7,871. Developing relationship. Daddy kink.

Remus worries far too much what Draco thinks of the differences between them, until he discovers what Draco truly thinks.

Refuge

by Indigo_Scarf (@indigo-scarf). Draco/Scabior. Rated: T. Words: 2,990. Cottagecore. Fluff. Angst. Unhappy ending. Suicidal thoughts.

After the war, Scabior has been hiding in a hut in the woods near Malfoy Manor.

Old Dogs, New Tricks

by youcantseeus. Draco/Sirius. Rated: T. Words: 14,099. Postwar. Cousin incest. Humor.

⭐️ My favorite Drarius fic!

Draco isn't gay, he just appreciates a good looking man when he sees one. Honest! And Sirius Black is a good looking man.

Shall we descend once more, my Hades

by megyal. Draco/Severus. Rated: M. Words: 10,219. Postwar. Forced bonding. Podfic available.

[From the request: Later schoolyears, possibly seventh year | In return for killing Voldemort, Draco is given to Snape, to become his concubine. (Prompt: The Myth of Persephone)

Used

by torino10154. Draco/Teddy. Rated: E. Words: 811. Forced feminization. Dubious consent. Self-hatred. Humiliation.

Teddy wants Draco to be happy but at what cost?

The Lovers

by mushroomheadgirl. Draco/Theodore. Rated: E. Words: 4,941. Friends to lovers. Hogwarts 8th year. Falling in love. Love confessions.

It started with a note and ended here: the two of you huddled together in a lumpy bed in a frigid motel room in a backwater town. Far away from the castle you used to call home. Draco’s hand wavers just over yours, and there’s a lot unsaid and a lot that could go wrong, but you silently beg him to close the distance. * A story about schoolyard notes and the confessions that sneak through the lines.

The Lemniscate, or the Nature of Infinity

by lysanatt. Draco/Viktor. Rated: M. Words: 5,582. Prostitution. Quidditch. Romance. Previous unrequited Draco/Snape.

The war is long over, but Draco Malfoy is still caught up in the loss of the man he only too late realised that he loved. Trying to forget, he finds himself immersed in Quidditch and sex -- sex for money, that is. Not all men, however, are willing to pay. Happy end romance.

Seasons Change, And So Do We

by calrissian18. Draco/Voldemort. Rated: E. Words: 6,053. Dubious consent. Pining. Minor character death. Mythology fusion: Persephone/Hades

The Malfoy boy is sixteen when he burns the Mark into him. It’s almost more than he can bear; marking something his that isn’t quite.

#danpuff recs #draco malfoy #rare pairs #draco rare pairs

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Yesterday, over 100 funerals were held in the small community of kibbutz Be'eri. Just one community. Hamas rockets were also fired yesterday at the kibbutz. We can't even bury our dead in peace.

At least 133 of the murdered were not Jewish. Yoseph Haddad, an Israeli Muslim Arab, gives his perspective:

This following pic is so on point for way too many people on Tumblr:

For the record, "It's wrong, but..." doesn't count as speaking out against the cold-blooded murder of Jews in their homes.

I'm writing about certain aspects less, but Israeli society has been FULL of beautiful gestures and acts of kindness. One example is a mother who had lost her only son to Hamas terrorists a few years ago, and who opened a free "supermarket" for Israelis running out of food and water, especially from among the evacuees. Another is a Bedouin family, who uploaded a video inviting anyone of the Jews who had been turned homeless to come and stay with them. These gestures from among the Israeli Arabs, Bedouins and Druze are the most beautiful ones to me. They're proof that we want and we CAN live here together, peacefully. Sadly, at least one such gesture was "punished." An Arab shop owner decided to donate 30 bicycles to Jewish kids from the south who had lost their homes. In retaliation, his shop was broken into, robbed, and then set on fire. What moves me the most is that even after that, he said he doesn't regret his decision, and will continue to contribute to Israeli society.

I want to say something about the warning that was given to Palestinians to evacuate the northern part of Gaza.

If Israel had started bombing that area with the intention of destroying Hamas facilities there, but without giving any warning, it would have killed a lot of civilians, and the reaction of the world would have been to decry Israeli actions. When Israel is giving them warning to move out, so that they're not killed in the bombings (and when they CAN return to their land once the fighting is done), Israel is still denounced, and I've seen people calling this by all sorts of horrendous terms (that don't actually apply). If Israel is being portrayed as evil whether we give a warning or not, what that means is that people are just not okay with Israel acting against Hamas in any capacity.

Except Israel doesn't actually have a choice. We tried to have one! That's what the border fence was for. We invested billions of shekels in building it. Money that could have gone to school, to hospitals, to rehabilitation programs, to all sorts of purposes that could have made Israeli society better, and save Israeli lives outside of the context of this conflict. Every Israeli patient whose life could have been saved if out medical system was better, for example, is one of the "invisible victims" of the conflict IMO. We spent so much money on the fence to stop Hamas, so that we wouldn't have to go into Gaza and fight to eliminate that organization. Such fighting would have ended in a loss of life for Israelis and for Gazans, so instead we built that fence. It was technologically the most advanced it could be. It still didn't stop Hamas. They built terror tunnels that brought them to the fence without being spotted on the surface, they had bombs that it seems they planted at the border during their "protests" near the fence, they had suicide drones that took out all of the electronic surveillance along the fence, leaving Israel "blind" as the infiltration of thousands of terrorists into its territory began, and they had intel on where the security forces are, to take them out first and leave the civilians vulnerable to rape, mutilation, kidnappings and murder.

In other words, there is no fence, there is no barrier that can stop Hamas. And without that, it's only a matter of time before carnage like this WILL happen again.

I am scared. For the families of the hostages, the thought of the fighting, where Israeli or Hamas fire might kill there loved ones, must be particularly difficult. Innocents will die on both sides when the ground action will start. That's always terrible, but for a country still counting and trying to identify its dead, that's a particularly gruesome truth. That we're sending some of our 18 year olds to die in order to keep the babies safe. Knowing that every one of these 18 year olds is somebody's baby. Every day, every hour that passes allows Hamas to dig in, to prepare and to lay traps for our soldiers. And yet the ground action has not started yet, because we want to give the Palestinians in the northern part of Gaza a chance to flee.

You can dislike the coming loss of life. We all do. I am shrinking with internal pain just thinking about it. But please stop painting the Israeli military reaction as if it's just a senseless revenge driven by blood lust. It's not. At least understand our perspective. To us, it's a fight for our lives. It's a fight for our lives that, no matter what, we will pay for with the lives of some of our loved ones.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

[joongbin]

i just had this idea pop up when i remember i usually go to school on my bike

so m!reader x chan where m/n goes to uni with his friends with their bikes, like the usually do and they do stupid shit on the way and m/n gets hit by a car while he isnt paying attention,, time skip he gets in the hospital and chan hears the news from one of m/ns friends and rushes to the hospital (m/n makes it out alive with semi permanent injuries,, like partially deaf or smth)

so yeah very angsty but kinda fluff at end??

➤ DON'T LEAVE ME. - C. BC

꒰ ignoring one of the precautions whenever you do something is always a horrible idea, and what if you do ignore one while riding a bicycle?

+ pairings: bang chan x male reader

× warnings: reader gets hits by a car, reader almost dies.

# genre: angst 2 fluff

& this ask is so interesting (also thank god it's only for 1 member)

You attended a university with a few of your friends and Chan, one of your more closer friends. You always hung out with him, that was unless he was busy with studying.

You always went by bicycle to school with tour friends. You preferred to go a little early in the morning because you guys do silly shit and there's barely any cars.

-

While you were playing around with your friends on your bicycle, an incoming car suddenly collided with you, injuring you horribly as one of your friends called the ambulance. Blood was all over your face and under you. You couldn't feel anything.

You laid there, vision blurry and then— everything went black.

You were rushed to the hospital immediately, losing blood at a rapid pace as they tried to keep you alive. You were, well, passed out.

And your friends were at school, having to tell the teachers what happened. Chan hadn't heard it yet, though. That was until he realized you weren't on school grounds at all.

He approached one of your friends, tapping them by the shoulder as the friend had puffy, red eyed from crying.

“ Hey- why are you crying? What happened? ” Chan looked worried, patting the other's back.

“ Fuck- Chan. I'm sorry. You're gonna ask about (name), right? ” Your friend said, wiping off the tears that were still on his cheeks.

“ Yeah- ”

“ He's at the nearest hospital. ” Chan looked at your friend, eyes wide. His hands were shaking.

What could've happened to you? Were you okay? Were you even alive? These questions flooded his mind until the school bell rang.

Chan rushed to the hospital, not caring for his next class as he ran as fast as he could to the nearest hospital.

Tears slowly started to gather up and drip down his cheeks. His legs hurting the more he ran.

He reached the hospital and rushed to the counter, breath shaky as he tried to wipe the tears off his cheeks.

“ W-Where's (name)? ” His voice was weak. The nurse behind the counter told that you were in room 6. He walked ad quickly as he could since the entire place was filled with patients and he didn't wanna disturb them.

He looked at the window that was on the door and there you were, patched up and looking barely alive. Chan pushed the door to see you.

He hoped that you would make it out alive, holding your hand as he sobbed on the hospital's bed. The doctor in the room looked at him, rather disappointingly.

“ .. Sir, I'm sorry but .. we're not sure if he's gonna make it. ” Chan immediately looked at the door, his pupils shaking. He doesn't wanna— he couldn't lose you. You were his life.

Tears soon started to overflow and drip down his cheeks again as he looked at your face. He bit his bottom lip, clenching on your hand tighter.

-

After a few hours of him waiting for you, a sign of life showed. Your eye twitched, and they both slowly opened. You hadn't realized it yet.

You were at a hospital. You sat up to look around and there he was, your best friend Chan was holding your hand. You smiled at him.

“ Chan. ” Your voice was weak, but it was loud enough for Chan to look up and see your face. He hugged you, not tightly since he doesn't wanna kill you.

“ I thought you were dead. ” He sniffled. You smiled at him warmly, patting his back to reassure him.

“ I .. can't really hear what you said.. ” You chuckled. You were left with semi permanent injuries which were that you were partially deaf. It would be gone after a few months or maybe even years, but it wasn't permanent.

“ I'm just glad you're alive. ”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x y/n #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #bang chan x male reader #skz fluff #skz angst

[bi-demon-ium]

Cannonball, Constance, Madge, Number Two's Brother, Jackson and Jillson (do NOT separate), and Seymour the orphanage cat (Moth's suggestion don't look at me) (yes I'm intentionally spelling that CORRECTLY. "Seymore" who)

im going to fucking kill someone tumblr lost my entire answer and im so fucking mad

furiously and angrily tries to reconstruct it.

wrap a blanket around: constance. im not picking marry/kiss for obvious reasons, i would never attempt harm on her person because a) i love her b) she scares me c) all the other characters would immediately descend upon me, and she is canonically The Worst Roommate unless you're her chess partner (NOT dad!!!1 <- lie) who is the exception, and, even then, gets a lot of shit. also, she deserves comfort even if she might do malicious therapy at me about it

push off cliff: jackson and jillson, see previous

marry: i feel like i should pick jackson and jillson bc gertson but i really want to push them off a cliff so i can watch them seamlessly construct a tandem bicycle glider on the way down and simply fly away, so instead, cannonball. because i wanna climb him like a tree. i almost picked kiss but

kiss: one. honestly, i'm curious. cmere

set on fire: madge simply becomes one with the flames and is now a phoenix. she's too terrifying

be roommates with: seymour :) sit in my lap pspspspsps i will pet you

#askbox #i LOVE the do NOT seperate #i would never #the mysterious benedict society

[majimasleftasscheek]

what up yakoozers, today on Brahk reviews, we have the recent Numskull Designs bike Kiryu (also known as ugly bike Kiryu in fandom circles) for 100~USD

overall statue is of standard quality and the base is very nice (fashioned after the delightful piss laden streets of Kamurocho). the pose is dynamic and the bicycle reference is a hilarious touch for those in the know (insert funny quip here and sponsorship deal) haha because Kiryu uses bikes to NOT kill people haha (montage of Kiryu definitely killing people)

I will be displaying mine on a dusty, rickety shelf because I have no room and he’ll be facing to a side profile because looking at him from the front makes me shit myself so hard I could declare a national emergency

I give him 10 fart hoodies out of 5 scorpion bitch jackets

#BABY PLEASE I'M ON MY KNEES #he does make me laugh harder than figma majima and the weird lego figs I don't remember what they're called and I'm lazy to go look #unironically the base is actually the best part of the figure lmao #it's quite nice #I should review yakuza merch since I own like most of it lmao #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #kiryu kazuma

[seth-burroughs]

Anyway... headcanon post: Yomi is cognitively impaired. Sources? the depths of my twisted mind ;3

Sometimes has quote unquote good days where his symptoms don't get as severe (or he/others don't think they do), sometimes he gets worse, it varies on the phase on the moon, the earth's axis and the horoscope. (according to Guillaume, it's all because he's a libra) (he attempts to squash her like a bug every time but she's just too fast man.....)

Slow reaction times (although it gets weird sometimes). Sometimes it's delayed by just a second or a few, sometimes for way more which causes problems ranging from mild annoyance to literally almost dying via honda tire. An example of this is when he might walk to a crosswalk, forgets that he actually needs to check if any cars are coming, walks onto traffic, oh look a car. He notices a car car coming, stops, knows he should move out of the way in that scenario, but it just doesn't occur to him to do that, and he just stands there staring almost completely frozen, deer-style, until finally either, A.) he realizes "oh shit I'm about to get ran over so that's what's happening maybe" and fucking bolts to the side at literal last minute, or B.) the driver stops for him and is about to leave the car and scream at him about it, before noticing that's the director and almost shitting themselves from raw fear then profusely apologizing. You know those crosswalks at Kanai Ward, that detect pedestrians and stop oncoming traffic for them? While they were mostly created for the citizens, an also big reason why they were able to exist is because the Yomi Squad funded it so well in order to stop him from killing himself one day. The bicycle paths are still a problem though and have claimed many of his bones to this day

Knows the city pretty well (allegedly), and is able to get around via yomi autopilot. He just walks with zero (or extremely irrelevant) thoughts in his head, not paying attention to almost anything, just getting guided by habit/reflex/walking on the same path so often he just memorizes when to turn or enter while not even having to look where he's going, you get me right? He'll probably be fine. As long as he doesn't snap out of it and regain consciousness. In that case he's reminded he exists, looks around, thinks "where the fuck am I", remembers what he's supposed to do after a moment, but then forgets how he even gets there in the first place and is effectively lost. So what he does is to recount every single detail, instruction and direction in which path he usually takes to get him to a point where he is currently (which might. take a While), and then he finally remembers where he is and can carry on as usual. Do NOT disturb him in this state or he will completely lose his train of thought and get incredibly pissed he has to do it all over and violently take it out on you or perhaps even everyone around too.

^How he deals with the above things is that he simply very, very rarely travels without somebody else, which either Martina or F-Zilch (not counting occassional Cop Entourage as that's a bit different). If they aren't available, he either picks some other (preferably quiet, the chatty types are always the most insufferable) employee of his, or just goes alone or refuses to leave his house at all that day.

Sometimes when someone is speaking to him he can feel that he's not gonna register any word of what they're gonna say and just loses focus. No, he won't ask them to repeat themselves, that's for pussies like Seth, if he didn't hear whatever it is they wanted to tell him then maybe it just isn't that important. Maybe.

Takes an awful long time to shower, as soon as his skin makes contact with water he ceases awareness of existing and he has to wait until he remembers he's alive until he keeps going. (though that isn't the sole reason as to why he cannot do it faster. but it's a part in it)

Tries to make an effort to keep track of important events via lists, reminder notes and planners, or frequently ends up asking his vice director Martina about certain things that happened beforehand (if they did at all) or are about to happen, since he's for sure not gonna remember that himself. Usually, at least. Sometimes he does have his memory down to every detail but only concerning certain things his shit brain cares about more, such as "during that exact time that evening Seth blinked at you rather disrespectfully" or "here's that masked freak's speech to you that morning, perfectly recalled, down to the last detail, for you to dissect and get mad about for the remainder of the week"

All of these annoy, stress out and infuriate him greatly

#clarifying once again that is a personal headcanon of mine. i am. so tired. or maybe im not and its just regular blank Sylwester brain.waow #(anyway do not clown on this i am begging) #mine #rain code #yomi hellsmile #idk how coherent that is you by now know to not expect me to be comprehensible anymore + its almost midnight. i should sleep

[emojellyace08]

🦋" The Only Exception" 🦋Daniel Park x Female! Reader oneshot (1/2?)

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫.) 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭? :) 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 🥀 & 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟☁️ (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬?, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝).

You've been friends with Daniel, the boy who was often picked on for being "unattractive" in your class. You were a bit hesitant to approach him at first since you're also afraid of being bullied. But despite your raging nervousness, insecurities, and fear you managed to befriend him and make him trust you. He felt so secure, and most especially loved when you're always with him. Whether it's hanging out in his rather small apartment, him teaching you how to ride a bicycle in the warm and calming scenery in the sunset, even singing with him was always so fun. You laughed and cried with him as he did the same. Both of you understanding each other's feelings, thoughts, and accepting each other's strengths and even each others' flaws. That makes him so beautiful and endearing. This developed a different kind of love in your side, but you were quite afraid of sharing that relationship with him since you were afraid of rejection and getting hurt again for a countless amount of times. It is really risky because if your built friendship would fall to pieces if he is not willing to put your connections into that level. Nonetheless, you were happy. Even if he can't reciprocate your romantic feelings.

Yet it hurts, it hurts to see him move away from a different city when he can't take the bullying anymore. Even though he wants to run away with you from that toxic environment of his middle school, he can't seem to convince your parent/s since they seem to be against with your friendship with him since he's viewed as unattractive. Even when you got to meet him after moving too, seeing him fall for another woman makes your heart wrench. The stinging pain of disappointment and heartbreak fills your feelings and intoxicates your mind. You've always felt like this. Despite having that happy-go-lucky vibe, you seem to be jealous about the other people who got more friends, who got a boyfriend, who is more successful and prettier than you. At least that's how you felt. Even though you seem to want to have your own time and space at times, making real friendships are super hard of you since you don't trust anybody. You want to feel vulnerable. But you fear of getting used and hurt again. Daniel was the only one who listened to you, loved you as a friend even at your worst and even if you make mistakes. But in your gut-feeling, he doesn't seem to view you as someone who he can share his future with. You don't want to put your only friendship in the line of ending the beautiful connection between the two of you.

And with your involvement with the gangs with him and with the return of Logan Lee, everything seemed to fell down. It felt like he already snapped, causing him to run away and leaving you a letter about how much he cared about you. How much understanding and patient you are with him even when he makes mistakes, for loving him for being him.

"Y/N I don't know how to tell my thoughts in the first place but seeing Logan back when I try to run away from my problems just kills me inside. It may sound selfish to you but I felt like a burden for you and especially my mom. But I thank you for being there for me in my darkest times, when you help me out from those bullies and you don't judge me by my looks. When we jam in my apartment, when we laughed out loud in and chase each other in the side walk, when you help me out in my homeworks, when you get slightly pissed off when I tease you but then you just laugh back. When we call each other silly names without actually offending each other, when we ate cheap but good fried chicken in the corner after my night-shifts, when we laughed and cried together at our own miseries and problems, even when I farted out loud in the class and I accidentally burped on your face you just genuinely laughed and you didn't got really angry me at all (though I know it smells bad but don't judge me haha). It may sounds cheesy and cliché, but all of these memories are so beautiful and cherishing to me. And it made me feel cared for so much and I do hope you feel the same way like I did. You're really a sweet and honest person. You may not see that for yourself since I know you are also going through the darkest moments of your life, but as your best friend I see the good in you even if you can't. You may get bullied by befriending me back in middle school, but you gathered up your courage just so I wouldn't be all alone and lonely not only during lunch time but the whole school year and summer vacation. You, mom, and our other friends made my depressing life better and see the shining light of it. I look up to you because of that. You really are my best friend, and I love you for that. Though, I just need time for myself now. Please don't look for me. The larva that waits for years to be reborn as a cicada decides to return back to it's shell and to not spread it's wings. I'm sorry".

You thought that you weren't going to see him again. Your eyes can't help but to pour out warm tears as your chest aches because of disappointment from yourself since you didn't protected him. That's why he ran away again. You've spent the night looking for him, even almost spending most of your money just trying to ride the next train stations just so that you can bring him home again. But no matter how many times you looked for him, you gave up by crying even louder at the place when you failed to look for him. "Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" you thought to yourself as your now bloodshot orbs can't stop crying as your optimism declines even more.

Days and even some weeks, he didn't came back even when you looked for him so many times. You even got scolded by your family for looking for him, them telling you to give him space. But no, you didn't gave up. You are getting really worried of him as you want to contact his mom and his other friends but you don't want to stress him out more if he ever comes back and confronted by random questions. Until in a chilly evening with you waiting on a train station, he finally returned. Your eyes widened at the familiar round figure of his making you shift your speed as you hugged him tightly as he also took notice of you with those exhausted brown eyes. "JESUS CHRIST DANIEL! DON'T RUNAWAY LIKE THAT AGAIN!" you cried out as he stuttered trying to find his words. But then again, he can't help but to finally pour his whole heart out as he cries even louder at your touch. "I-I'm sorry Y/N... I-I won't do it again..."

Even after that painful event, he seemed to be more distant from you making you feel unloved and isolated. And Big Daniel who befriended you first and who always helped and defended you, making you catch a small crush conflicting your feelings from Little Daniel didn't attend his classes for many months. It is making you so worried, what if Workers got him? A new hostage? No, that wouldn't happen. They are both strong in their own ways. Despite trying to keep yourself motivated, your current feud with the Workers made you also quit attending your classes as you tried to look for answers about Big Dan's disappearance, Jiho's Death, And most especially Little Daniel being super distant from you.

You were slumped on your bed as you were feeling lazy to clean up because of your patches from your previous fights. You, overthinking as your mind swirled with thoughts about the almost disbandment of Big Deal. You did see Little Daniel, Vasco, Zack, Jace, and more Burn Knuckles members but they seem to be super different especially your best friend. He became slimmer and even more charming as you couldn't keep eye contact with him or else you may melt on the spot there. But you got to focus yourself or else you may get beaten up by the other thugs in there.

Hearing the apartment doorbell ring, you groaned as you thought about who is outside your property at this hour. But it may be important as you decided to get up and approach the door. It's no surprise that it's just Little- no, it's just Daniel (who is now taller than you) having that cheeky smile greeting you at midnight holding a pack of your favorite fresh fried chicken where both of you used to eat and hang out. "Hi, I was wondering to stop by- wait your injuries." he was about to approach your wounds and bruises but you flinched. Not because of you feeling uncomfortable at his touch, it was quite the opposite but you didn't want him to worry about you too much. Now you are talking and brushing off the topic, cutting him off. "Oh-Daniel, hello too. What are you doing here late at night? Isn't it a bit dangerous?" you reminded him as he chuckles yet you can see the distress on his face. "I just want to check you and see if you are okay." he honestly replied as he made eye contact with you again with those tired but attractive eyes, making you blush even more as you looked away. "Okay, wait I think you should go inside. Make yourself at home, I guess." you, opening the door for him to go inside with him bowing down in respect and gratitude for your hospitality.

"I'm sorry, I didn't got to clean up the mess in the living room." you mumbled an apology as he shakes it off as he was used to living in such a messy place too. You accompanied him in your bedroom where it is much more organized and tidy. He placed the take out food on the small table as he sat down on the bed with you, trying to find his words about his sudden disappearance and start a proper conversation. "Y/N, are you sleeping lately?" he took notice of your building eyebags as you raised your eyebrows at him, thinking if it was an insult or if he is actually worried. "Of course I am." "Well, doesn't look like it." he remarked with a smirk as you rolled your eyes as he laughs, telling that it's just a joke. There is a few moments of thick silence filling the room before he broke the weird atmosphere building up between the two of you. "Y/N." "Yeah?" "I'm sorry if I was not able to reach out for you sooner. And when I ran away from home." he sincerely apologized as he cringed at his own words. He is here to check up on you and he is super worried that you are not taking good care of yourself. The messy room, your injuries, the lack of sleep that causes your droopy eyes, and most especially, the enervating look of your face are signs that you may be stressed from the sudden change of your environment and everyday life. And if it weren't so greedy, he also wants to ask you out to help him and join his new crew, Allied. But he didn't want to sound inconsiderate with your feelings with just randomly showing up at night just to ask for your help when even you are also beginning to feel exhausted with the chaos. "It's okay. It's because of Workers right?" "Yeah..." "Are you here for help?" Shit, you seemed to read him so easily with things like this. He rubbed his nape, feeling embarrassed by it as you genuinely chuckled as his shyness. "No need to feel shy Dan. I know you need help." you teased, poking his once chubby cheeks as he lets out a chuckle with you. Finally, you see him genuinely smiling and laughing for once after him being so agitated with the constant drama in his personal life and with the crews. "Wait, are you sure? I just think that it would be weird when I randomly popped up in your door to ask for sudden help and I think you're tired and... also your injuries aren't helping either." he stated as you can hear it in his voice like he was guilty for leaving you. Him remembering when you're questioning about his sudden disappearance as he sometimes calls you on the phone but he wasn't available to meet up with you because of his training with Gun as he opens up. "Hmm.... Yep. I'm always here to help you out, so no problema. More members, more power right?" you smiled as he sighs at your reassurance that you're okay with helping him out.

"Well if you don't mind asking, where is your first-aid kit and an ice pack?" he asked as your eyes widened at his sudden and random question. Ah, he's going to clean up your wounds and bruises. "Ah, no need Daniel. I just-" "May I? Please?" that puppy-eye tactic which he always use always have that effect on you as it seems like you can't do anything about it. Sighing, you instructed him that it's in the drawer in the living room and the ice pack is in the freezer. After some moments of him looking, he came back with the white plastic box and the cold bag. Him opening it and grabbing the fluffy pack of clean cottons and ointment.

"Come here now." he cooed as you felt the butterflies in your stomach feel stronger with his voice calling for you. You went closer to him and sitting crossed-legged. He poured the ointment on the cotton pad as he leaned closer to you. With the sudden interaction, you want to just close your eyes and die in the spot if he continued to occupy the left out space that is keeping you distant from one another. He gently pressed down on the purplish bruise as the first contact stings making you hiss in pain. "Shit, I'm sorry I-" "I-It's okay. Continue." your face scrunched, trying to ease the burning reaction of the healing chemical on your skin as he frowned knowing that you can't take it. "C'mon Daniel, I've been through this lots of times in middle school." you commented as he chortled again, remembering the time when you took the punch from the "All Mighty Logan Ass Lee" when he was bullying Danny. Though it made him feel guilty when you were getting hurt because of you trying to protect him. He tried to forget the awful memory as he poured more ointment on a new and clean cotton pad to distract himself from guilt as he cleans some of your wounds and bruises on the corner of your lips, your nose, and the corners of your forehead. During this process, you seemed to be lost in thought as you observed his face. His once button-like nose which you like to gently press was more slimmer, his cheeks that you missed pinching reminding you of soft marshmallows is now less visible and making his jawline pop up more. His pinkish lips where it reminded you of blushing roses was still the same, and his eyes looked a bit weary. A hint of eyebags was showing up in his under eyes. But it didn't made him less attractive. Despite his face looking more mature, behind that gloomy and dark eyes that Daniel whom you get to know was still there. His eyes reminded you of the night sky and the light behind his eyes reminded you of twinkling and sparkly white stars that stands out in the black sky with the hue of blue and indigo.

"Yo, Y/N" he snapped you out of your thoughts as you came back to reality. "E-eh..." "I'm done patching you up silly." "Oh I'm sorry!" you squeaked as you got off and keeping your distance from him as he releases another laugh, teasing you about what you were thinking. "I-IT'S NOTHING DUMBASS!" "Meh, you're literally thinking of someone else, are you?" "Sh-Shut up!" "I'm just kidding!" he laughed again as he grabbed the ice pack and he leisurely scooted close to you to not creep you which caught you off guard (in a good way). From what you can remember, he was never this close to you. Before he ghosted literally everybody, you often caught him looking at you then breaking eye contact. Which was weird because he often laughs at your silly face when you just randomly stare at each other especially at class. He also insisted to buy you take out even when he's saving up money for his mom's visit. You suspected that he likes you in that way, but you don't want to repeat that mistake of judging other people that they are romantically interested in you but in the end your deduction is wrong and your feelings get hurt. He's probably just being nice? Right?

After helping you out with your bruises, he spent the rest of the night with you. Both of you chomping on the warm and tasty food that he ordered. He's even nice to give you the two other chicken drumsticks since he said that "he's in a diet" as you teased him that he only wants you to make you fatter as he chuckles at your joke. You and Daniel continued to chat about what happened to each other. And you can feel the heat on your cheeks rise up as you can feel him staring at you enjoying your meal with a smile. He stated that he was training with Gun to bring down Workers. And from the looks of it, he may be hiding a secret from you. You confronted him about it since you promised to each other that you won't hide secrets from each other in furtive. But you chuckled at the thought of it. You and him are still people with your own lives. And you respected his privacy as you don't want to push his boundaries and make him feel uncomfortable around you. But he just nervously laughs about it as he asks why did you move out. You were a bit hesitant to open up at first. But you trusted him whole heartedly as you told him that after your interaction with the crews, you felt like a disappointment in your own family for being a disobedient daughter.

"Remember when I was on the news? Yep, that's their boiling point. We had a REALLY huge argument. And I kinda snapped, soo..." you told him in between bites of the spicy chicken. "Anddd... Guess what?" you smiled at him, almost trying to be funny but this time he felt pity and sadness on your current situation as if he was on your shoes. Ad he can definitely see it in your eyes that you're trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fell down on your cheeks as you continued to laugh as if you're not in pain. "So... did you got kicked out or you ran away from home?" he asked as he has his full attention to you and lending his ears and focus, him always listening to your random rants. But this time, this certain issue is way too serious because it's deeply affecting your physical health and mental and emotional well-being. "Hm... I guess it's a mix of both. I packed all of my shit up. Clothes, my phone, laptop, personal things, heck even some CD's and albums and left at 2am and stayed in a motel for a while since I'm a broke-ass who don't have a single penny. Good thing the grandma who handles this old building was considerate enough to let me stay in here even though I have a REALLY BIG DEBT here. Kinda funny right?" you chuckled as you licked the sweet and hot sauce on your fingers and in the sides of your lips as if you are forgetting that the bruise is not yet fully healed.

"*Sigh*, dumbass use a napkin. You ain't a little kid anymore." he joked as you slightly elbowed him not wanting to hurt him before he grabbed the tissue on the plastic bag and handing out to you. You cleaned up and sneezed and he pointed out on the sides of his own mouth, signaling you that there's still sauce left in your mouth. "Y/N, the other side." "Oh, this?" "Nope." "Here?" "Ju-Just give me the tissue." he stuttered as you gave him the napkin as he scooted close again. You feel very shy when things like this happen. When he takes care of your bruises, and now when he's helping you clean up your mouth. "Stay still dummyhead, let me just-" he was cut off when you accidentally burped on his face. Fuck. When was the last time you didn't embarrassed yourself in front of everybody? Especially with the person whom you considered your best friend and your long-time crush.

"AHAHAHHAAHHA! WHAT THE FUCK!-" "SHUT UP YOU KEEP GETTING CLOSE TO ME IT'S YOUR DAMN FAULT!" you slightly kicked him in his legs as he continued to let out dying wheezes and cackling about the unintentional action of yours. "DID YOU EVEN BRUSHED YOUR TEETH THIS DAY?!" he mocked while having that shitty grin in his face that made the heat in your cheeks spread up into your ear, the red tint of your cheeks now being more visible as he continued to laugh out loud. "SHUT UP! I DID AND MY BREATH JUST SMELLED LIKE FRIED CHICKEN!" you continued to rant in an octave whisper as you don't want to wake up your old neighbors and curse at you again but his chirp of laughter isn't helping you to control yourself. You then continued to let out guffaws with him as you forget about your problems with him as he felt like dancing in Cloud-Nine. It's been a while since he let out a bunch of silly laughter like this, especially when he's with you. *Sigh*, now he wants to hang over for the rest of the night and have a sleepover with you.

Feedbacks would be appreciated!

A/N: This is actually the first time that I wrote for a story that would have parts and actually a plot. Yet anyways thanks for reading! Your support means so much to me! (I just love Little Daniel and Big Daniel so much okay?)

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐜𝐞𝟎𝟖. 𝐑𝐞-𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐲!

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