#another major mismatch in his life

[praisethegabs]

AKRASIA

ID!Professor!Leon Kennedy x Student!F!Reader

euphoria masterlist

summary: you met him during a party, and it was a one night stand for both of you. (un)fortunately, it turns out he's your new college history professor, and neither of you expected that.

warnings: age gap, reader is in college and in mid 20s while Leon is in his 30s. NSFW content, delicate to rough sex, p in v, oral receiving (both), praise kink, degradation kink (eventually), use of pet names (bunny), vaginal fingering, masturbation, cum swallowing, dom!leon and sub!reader. leon is insecure af. oc named chloe as the reader's best friend.

word count: 5684k

a/n: this is a new mini series I'm writing since I had a hard time with creative blocking, and I'm taking this very slow just in case.

AKRASIA is the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.

You sat in your cozy room in the apartment you shared with your best friend, Chloe. The pale evening light casts a warm glow over the mismatched posters adorning the walls. Your textbooks were spread out across your desk, a mountain of assignments awaiting your attention. But Chloe, your vivacious best friend, had other plans.

"Come on, my lovely pumpkin," Chloe pleaded, tossing a colorful scarf around your neck as she perched on your bed. "You can't spend another Thursday night buried in textbooks. It's the first college party of the semester, and you've been MIA for weeks!"

"Chloe, you know I have that history essay tomorrow morning. I can't afford to waste any more time." You sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"But it's not just any party, it's Jake's party! He's practically begged me to convince you to go. And you know he's got a major crush on you." Chloe's bright green eyes twinkled with mischief as she leaned closer.

Your cheeks flushed at the mention of Jake, the charismatic guy from your history class. You had caught him stealing glances at you during lectures, but you were too wrapped up in your studies to think much of it. Besides, you already had your share of a "bad girl" period. Now, you need to finish your obligations.

"I don't know, Chloe," you hesitated, twirling a pencil between your fingers. "I feel so out of my element at those parties. I used to get drunk just for fun, but I don't do that anymore"

"Sis, that's what makes you unique. Besides, I promise you'll have fun. And who knows, maybe Jake will be your study partner for that history essay or whatever you need. It's a win-win!" Chloe chuckled, tousling her auburn curls.

You bit your lip, torn between your dedication to your academics and the allure of a night filled with laughter, music, and maybe even a spark of romance. You glanced at your textbooks, then back at Chloe's eager expression.

"Okay, Chloe. I'll go to the party. But only for a couple of hours, and you owe me a serious study session tomorrow." Finally, with a hesitant smile, you relented.

"Deal! Now, let's get you ready. You're going to look stunning, and I promise you won't regret this." Chloe's face lit up with triumph as she jumped off the bed.

As you both began raiding your closet for the perfect outfit, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. Little did you know, this college party would mark the beginning of an unforgettable chapter in your life.

After a shower, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, twirling in your black cocktail dress. Your reflection grinned back at you, the dimples on your cheeks deepening as you admired your outfit. The cocktail dress that Chloe picked up for you, which she said it looks beautiful on you. She was perched on the edge of your bed, her perfectly curled auburn hair cascading over her shoulders.

"You look amazing, sweetie" Chloe gushed, adjusting her own outfit. "This party is going to be epic!"

"Thanks, Chloe. I can't believe you really convinced me to go to this college party." You laughed, the excitement bubbling within you.

Just then, your phone chimed with a familiar notification tone. You picked it up, your heart sinking as you saw the message. It was from Matthew, your ex-boyfriend. The name alone sent a shiver down your spine.

"What is it?" Chloe asked, her eyebrows furrowing with both concern and curiosity since you had a strange expression on your face.

"Hey, I know it's been a while, but can we talk? It's important." You sighed, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the message out loud.

"Oh no, not him again. What does he want now?" Chloe's expression shifted from excitement to concern, her voice sounding annoyed for a moment. She really hated your ex.

You chewed your lower lip, feeling torn between responding and ignoring the message. You hadn't spoken to Matthew since your messy breakup a few months ago. Your relationship had ended in bitter arguments and hurtful words.

"I don't know," you replied, your voice wavering. "Maybe it's something urgent. I should at least find out."

"Honey, I've been looking forward to this party for weeks, and I had a lot of trouble to convice you to join me. You can't let him ruin our night. Besides, he had his chance to talk when you needed it." Chloe shook her head, her green eyes filled with worry, and her face with evident disapproval. She really cared about you.

You sighed again. It was really difficult to put your past behind, especially after everything you had with Matthew.

"Look, you go first, and I'll meet you there." You glanced at Chloe, hoping she would give up and just leave you to take care of your ex-boyfriend on your terms.

"Do you promise?" Chloe asks, with those big green and puppy eyes, which she did every time she wanted something.

"Yep, I promise." You nod your head and smile when Chloe screams like a little girl, hugging you tight.

As you watch Chloe leave your shared apartment, your entire attention returns to your screen. You felt a wave of buried feelings returning slowly, leaving you with the hard choice in hands. You hesitated, your phone still in your hand. You knew Chloe was right, but curiosity gnawed at you.

"I'll just send a quick reply. Let him know I can't talk right now." You muttered to yourself, deciding what was best for you at the moment. You typed out a short message, your fingers tapping the screen rapidly. "Can't talk now, Matthew. At a party. We'll talk later."

But as soon as you hit send, your phone chimed again, this time with a call from Matthew. You watched the screen light up with his name and number. Your heart raced, torn between answering and turning it off.

Instantly, you pictured the image of Chloe in front of you and what she would say at this very moment. She would, of course, curse him a lot, and then, as your best friend, she would say something like, "Ignore it, honey. You made your choice. Let's not let him ruin our night"

And again, she was completely right.

As you entered the place, the pulsating beat of music washed over you, drowning out the noise of your own doubts. The college party was in full swing, with colorful lights flashing in time with the rhythm, creating a kaleidoscope of patterns on the walls.

You weaved your way through the crowd, your heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of anxiety. Your best friend, Chloe, had convinced you to attend, promising a night of unforgettable fun. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for Chloe's familiar face amidst the sea of strangers.

You finally spotted Chloe near the makeshift bar, holding two red plastic cups filled with a mysterious concoction. Chloe grinned when she saw you and waved you over. Chloe joined you, your tension slowly giving way to excitement.

"Oh, you made it!" Chloe shouted over the music, handing you a cup. "This is the famous 'party punch.' Drink up!"

You hesitated for a moment, then took a cautious sip. The sweet, fruity mixture danced on your taste buds, and you couldn't help but smile. Chloe always had a knack for finding the best drinks.

Feeling the alcohol mess with your mind and following the rhythm of the music, you two chatted and laughed as the night went on, your voices blending with the raucous sounds of the party. You watched as people swayed to the music, their bodies moving in sync with the beat. It was a wild and chaotic scene, but there was an undeniable energy that you couldn't resist.

"Come on, let's dance!" You grabbed Chloe's hand, leading your way to the crowd, letting your body follow the flow.

You swayed to the beat of the music, your body moving sensually with the rhythm as colorful lights flashed around you. The college party was in full swing, the pounding music reverberating through the entire place as students danced and mingled. You, feeling adventurous and carefree due to the alcohol in your organism, held a red plastic cup in one hand and scanned the crowd for someone intriguing. Your eyes settled on a tall, ruggedly handsome man who stood out from the rest of the college-aged crowd.

As you glanced around the people, your eyes met those of a striking man across the dance floor.

He was, obviously, a few years older than the typical partygoer, exuded an air of maturity that drew your attention. He leaned against the wall, his brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead, and his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with a hint of amusement. He was an enigmatic figure who seemed to easely blend into the college scene while maintaining an air of mystery. For a moment, you thought he was too old to be there, but can you blame the man for wanting some fun? Despite the age, he was very handsome.

And his eyes were locked specifically on you.

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks. You couldn't believe that this stranger was actually looking at you. A burst of self-confidence surged within you, urging you to take action.

You couldn't resist the urge to approach him, so you casually sauntered over, a playful smile curving your lips. You didn't let their age gap deter you; after all, age was just a number, right?

With the music pulsing through your ears, you decided to seize the opportunity. Hopefully, you could put the blame on alcohol and say you weren't thinking right — despite the fact that you weren't that drunk. You made your way through the crowd, not even seeing Chloe around, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached him. The closer you got, the more you noticed his rugged charm and the intensity in his piercing blue eyes.

"Hey there," you said, your voice carrying a hint of confidence as you leaned closer to be heard over the music. "You seem like you're in the wrong party. This crowd is usually reserved for broke college kids."

"Hey," he replied, his voice just loud enough to be heard. He then leaned in closer, his expression intrigued but slowly changing. Leon turned his attention to you, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Well, maybe I'm just here for the youthful energy. It's refreshing."

You laughed, your eyes sparkling.

"Or maybe you're just trying to relive your college days." you said, taking another generous sip on your drink. At this point, you weren't caring about anything else.

"What makes you think I'm not still in college?" Leon raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing.

"Because I've been around here long enough to recognize someone who's seen a few more semesters than the rest of us." You chuckled between another sips, leaning even closer, your faces just inches apart.

"You're perceptive, aren't you?" Leon's lips curled into a grin, and he took a sip from his own cup.

"I have my moments. So, Mr. Mysterious, what brings you to our humble party tonight?" You nodded, your flirtatious energy in full swing. At this point, you were regretting your decision to stop with alcohol because you could never talk to a man like him the way you were doing.

"Well, I heard there was someone here I couldn't resist meeting. Looks like I found her." Leon's eyes held a glint of intrigue as he leaned in slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at his response, your flirtatious banter taking an unexpectedly genuine turn.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" You asked him, feeling a sudden heat rush over your body like a wave.

"Only when I'm talking to someone as captivating as you." Leon leaned in a bit closer, his breath warm against your ear.

After a few more drinks and flirts, you decided to ask what was eating you inside. Of course, in the next morning, you wouldn't remember anything, and you could live without regrets. Chloe was having fun with a bunch of friends, so why couldn't you just do the same? You were so horny at this moment that you were willing to have fun.

"So, it was my impression, or were you practically eating me while I was dancing?" You provoked him, drinking another sip from whatever Chloe said it was.

He almost spit his drink, completely shocked by your question. The old man looks at you with curiosity, but then, a slight smirk appears on his lips. Those beautiful blue eyes that never left yours made your body shiver, and that smile, well... that smile of him almost ripped yourself in two parts.

"How presumption of yours, huh?" He replied, still smiling, his lips meeting his glass again.

"It wasn't presumption, it was true," you said back, sounding cocky; you didn't care, and you had the balls to do so.

"Well, I might have done that. Who knows?" He says, his voice softly husky, almost low, like he did on purpose to provoke you.

"Well, lucky for you, I might have enjoyed that," you said, leaning closer to his ear, enough to whisper to him and enough to make him smile.

It was amazing what alcohol did to you. Honestly, you weren't this type of slutty horny girl, but let's face the truth; your ex-boyfriend was an asshole and the last time you had sex with someone with your age, it was a terrible experience. Maybe someone older could handle the job well? And besides, you both knew you wouldn't see each other again.

"You know, this party is fun, but I have a feeling the night could get even better." He leaned closer, his voice a soft murmur in your ear, and he seemed to think the same as you.

"Oh, really? And what do you have in mind?" You turned to him, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

Leon grinned, his confidence growing as your connection deepened.

"How about we leave this noisy place and head to my apartment? It's not far from here, and we can continue our conversation without shouting over the music." He suggests, and you had the certain he was thinking the same thing you were.

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. The party was completely wild at this point. Everyon, with no exceptions, seemed drunk enough, but the prospect of spending more time with this stranger and handsome man seemed far more appealing. Plus, there was an undeniable attraction that had been simmering between you two all night.

"You know what? I think that's a great idea. Lead the way." You replied with a playful smile and finally decided what you wanted.

Leon offered his hand, and you took it, allowing him to guide you through the lively crowd. You both made your way out of the crowded house and into the cool night air. The stars above shone brightly, and the distant sounds of the party slowly faded into the background.

As you two walked together, Leon couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. The decision to invite you to his place had been a bold one, but it seemed like the right choice. The night was filled with possibilities, and he was eager to explore where it would lead.

When you both reach his place, it's just a matter of seconds before he grabs you by your thighs, pinning up against the wall, kissing your neck desperately. Your hands meet his hair, holding so tight that between his kisses, he groans a little.

"God, you're so beautiful" he moans softly, leaving marks on your skin, to remember you that he was there.

"Stop talking, handsome" you said, now biting his earlobe, making him moan again. You were feeling something between your legs, and you couldn't tell if it was yours or his. "And just fuck me"

"That's what I intend to do" he whispers, still holding you by your thighs, leading you to his room, not caring about the mess he did along the way.

Your body falls graciously on his mattress, and he removes your black dress, throwing it somewhere inside his room. He removes his belt so quickly, like he really wanted this. You can see his cock inside his underpants, which makes you smile.

"Do you like the view, huh?" He provoked, sucking his fingers and making them touch your already wet pussy. "Is this all for me?"

"Shit" you moan louder when you feel his fingers circling around your pussy, tasting you. You sighed with pleasure, leaning back your head, biting your lower lip.

"Don't worry, we have all night" he whispers, his wet lips meeting your skin between kisses, making your body joint and shiver.

You feel him sucking and licking your left niple, his hand holding your other breast while his other hand was still circling slowly your clit. Your moans were so loud, so pornographic that you knew his neighbor would here your scandal. But God have mercy, he was very talented with his hands.

And then, without any warnings, you finally feel him inside, slowly sliding between your legs. You groan, letting him know you needed time to adjust to his size. Your nails found their way into his skin, leaving scratches that would take time to heal — a reminder about this night.

When you feel comfortable enough with him, you nod slightly, and he starts to move between your legs, penetrating you so softly and yet so caring. His eyes observe you, sometimes his lips meeting yours in a smooth kiss, and sometimes moaning in your ear.

You follow his pace, and when you notice, he's moving faster inside you. One of his hands holding yours so tight that it's almost impossible to escape his grip — which you don't intend to do. You wouldn't mind be his bitch for a night.

"You're taking me so well" he moans again, leaving marks on your breasts and smiling as his hips hit yours harder.

"Oh, fuck..." you moan again, biting your lower lip and closing your eyes, already feeling a wave of pleasure running through your body.

"Oh, be a good girl for me" he teases, his free hand circling your clit again, making your body joint.

And he kept teasing you for a very long time. Each time you were close to orgasm, he stopped what he was doing to make you beg for him and your pleas were almost insignificant to him, despite the fact that he was enjoying seeing you beg to cum.

"Please, let me cum" you begged again after the fifth time he denied your orgasm. You were almost crying at this point, unable to hold the ache in your pussy. "I need you, please"

"Such a baby girl begging for me" he said, smiling and starting to circle you clit again, making you whine. "I'll let you cum if you take me in your mouth right now"

He stood up on the edge of his bed and you crawled into him, opening your mouth to put his cock inside, sucking him while your hands massaged his balls. You can hear him moan, grabbing your hair to force you to keep sucking him. You started to tear up, gasping while his cock was inside your mouth.

He didn't care.

You kept sucking him until he released his cum inside your mouth and he didn't had to say anything. You swallowed him, like the good girl you were. And with his smile of approval, you knew you earned your time. He made you lay back in his bed and started to suck your clit, tasting yourself in his mouth.

"So good" he said, holding your thighs against his shoulders, sucking you, licking your wet pussy.

"S-shit" you moan again, holding his sheets with violence, wanting desperately to cum on him. Your moans get higher and again, you started to feel the warm pleasure in your body.

"Cum for me, baby" he orders smoothly again, giving the attention you required, his tongue doing such a great work on you.

Finally, with his approval, you had the liberty to release yourself. You felt something hot coming out of you at the same time that your body reached the peek and you finally had the orgasm of your life. You had to control yourself, your body almost collapsing while his mouth was still between your thighs.

And after you had your orgasm, releasing your cum on him, he smiled at you, licking his lips to savor you and then crawling his way to your side on his bed.

"You're okay?" He asks, going to his bathroom to grab paper to help you clean yourself. "I hope I wasn't that hard"

"You kidding me?" You ask him, cleaning yourself from the mess he did. "You were great, I'm impressed"

The moonlight cast a soft glow through the curtains, filling the room with a gentle, silver light. Leon and you were laying side by side on the cozy, disheveled sheets, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

Leon turned toward you, his eyes filled with tenderness as he reached out to stroke your hair, his touch feather-light.

"Are you okay, really?" he whispered, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled, your eyes shining with a mixture of contentment and affection.

"I'm more than okay. That was... amazing." You said honestly to him. And it was entirely true; despite his age, he was the best sex you ever had.

Leon's smile mirrored yours as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, tracing soothing patterns along your back.

"I'm so glad to hear that," he said. "But I want to make sure you're comfortable. Is there anything you need right now?" He asks, sounding curious and kind. You felt he came from a fairytale. He was too good to be real.

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

"I just need you here with me, like this."

"I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere," he promised. Leon leaned in and kissed your forehead gently, his lips warm and reassuring.

You two lay together in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of their intimate moment. Leon's caring touch and reassuring presence were all the aftercare you needed, a reminder that your connection ran deeper than the physical. As you both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, you knew that this bond was something truly special, despite the fact that you both also knew it wouldn't happen again.

As the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, you groaned and slowly opened your eyes. The unfamiliar surroundings of Leon's apartment briefly disoriented you until the events of the previous night came flooding back into your memory. You'd met him at the party you went with your best friend, and one thing had led to another. Now, you were here, alone in his apartment.

With a groggy sigh, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your temples to soothe the pounding headache. Your mouth felt like a desert, a testament to the amount of alcohol you'd consumed the night before. Your bleary eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of Leon.

A folded piece of paper on the coffee table caught your attention. You reached for it, your fingers trembling slightly, and unfolded the note. Leon's neat handwriting greeted you:

"Hey, stranger. I hope you slept well. I had to head to work early, but I didn't want to wake you. There's coffee brewing in the kitchen to help with your hangover, and I left some pain relievers on the counter. Make yourself at home. There's my number if you need anything. Leon"

You couldn't help but smile. Despite the awkwardness of waking up in a stranger's apartment, Leon's thoughtfulness warmed your heart. You stumbled out of bed and followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen.

As you sipped the steaming cup of coffee, the pounding in your head began to subside. The pain relievers helped, too. You glanced at your phone and gasped when you saw the time. You were so late for your college classes.

With newfound energy, you left your phone number on his desk and rushed back to the bedroom, desperately searching for your scattered clothes. You managed to piece together an outfit from the items you found strewn across the floor. It was far from your usual put-together look, but it would have to do.

Once dressed, you scribbled a quick note of thanks to Leon and left it on the kitchen counter. You grabbed your bag and dashed out of his apartment, promising yourself you'd explain everything when you saw him again.

As you hurried to catch a bus to your college, you couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. Meeting Leon had been a whirlwind, and while your head still throbbed with the remnants of a hangover, you couldn't deny the spark of excitement and curiosity that had ignited between the two of you.

As you ran down the hall, your heart raced with anxiety. You knew you were late for your history class, but your unexpected encounter the night before had left you disoriented and sleep-deprived. With your disheveled hair and the remnants of last night's makeup still on your face, you approached the classroom door. The chattering of your fellow students stopped abruptly when you entered.

The professor, his back turned to the door, continued writing on the chalkboard. You sighed with relief, hoping you hadn't disrupted the class too much. You scanned the room, searching for an empty seat. Most of your fellow students had already found their places, and the only available desk was in the front row.

You tiptoed down the aisle, trying to make as little noise as possible, and took a seat at the front. The professor turned around, ready to begin his lecture. When your eyes met, your heart dropped into your stomach. It was Leon, the man you had met at the college party the night before, the one you had shared an unforgettable night with.

"Fuck" you muttered in surprise, your face going red like a tomato.

Leon's expression changed from one of stern concentration to one of recognition and shock. You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you realized that he was your history professor. The sounds of your obscenes moans echoed inside your head. You wanted to evaporate.

"Good morning, miss" he said, his voice tinged with surprise, but trying to sound polite. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I...I didn't realize this was your class," you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

The rest of the class watched the exchange with keen interest. You could feel their curious eyes on you. Leon cleared his throat and attempted to regain his composure.

"Well, since you're here, you might as well stay," he said, attempting to sound professional despite the awkwardness of the situation. "We'll discuss your tardiness later. Now, let's begin our lesson on the American Revolution."

As the class continued, you tried your best to focus on the lecture, but your mind kept wandering back to the night you had spent with him. It was going to be a long semester, filled with more than just history lessons.

At the end of his class, you were so nervous that you felt you could explode right there. Leon hesitated as he watched you from across his desk, where he had papers and books strewn haphazardly. Your presence filled the room with an electric tension, one he couldn't deny any longer. You were his student, and you both knew the boundaries you both had crossed were dangerous. And when everyone left his room, you stood up to leave as well, until you heard his voice.

"Sit down," he said, his voice trembling slightly as he gestured to the chair in front of him. You took a seat, your eyes locking onto his, searching for answers.

You never felt this nervous before. You were shaking, and your palms were sweating cold. You wanted to disappear forever.

"We need to talk about last night," Leon began, his gaze never leaving yours. "What happened between us was a mistake, and I shouldn't have allowed it to happen."

Your lips quivered, but you remained silent.

"I'm your professor, and you're my student. It's against the rules, and it's unethical. I can't let this continue." Leon continued, his voice softer but resolute.

You looked down, your fingers nervously playing with the edge of your notebook.

"I know, Leon," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't deny that I felt something for you. It's more than just physical attraction."

Leon's heart ached at her words, his inner struggle evident. God, this was so wrong, and yet, his mind was a battle over what was right and what was wrong. He couldn't deny he felt something for you too — something he thought he would never feel again.

"You don't understand, I like you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I also care about your future, and I can't jeopardize it."

You raised your eyes to meet his once more, tears glistening.

"What are we going to do, then?" You asked, feeling sad and, somehow, pathetic. You met him the night before, then why were you feeling like this?

Leon sighed, his resolve crumbling.

"I don't know" he confessed, his voice filled with regret. "But we need to find a way to move past this and focus on your education."

Your eyes locked in a shared moment of vulnerability, the unspoken desire still simmering beneath the surface. Leon had tried to convince you it was wrong, but his feelings for you were undeniable. The battle between his heart and his principles had only just begun.

"I think it's for the best if we keep this as it should be. I don't want to risk anything" Leon said, his voice sounding sad for a moment. "And I'm sorry, but we can't see each other like that again"

You nod and then leave his class. You made your way back to your apartment, wanting a shower, because you felt you could drown yourself in the water and forget everything that happened. He was your professor. You knew it was wrong, but for God's sake, why him? Why did he have to take you to heaven and then throw cold water on your head?

"What the hell happened?" You heard Chloe ask as soon as you enter your apartment. You completely forgot about her.

"I met someone last night" you explained, avoiding details. You were still feeling the effects of the hungover.

"Really? I bet it was good... you didn't even come back home, you naughty girl" Chloe teases you, laughing. "Have you heard about the new history professor? He's really hot"

"Yeah, I got late for his class" you sighed, laying on your bed with Chloe right behind you, excited about the new professor. If she only knew...

"No shit? Lucky you, he's cool. I've heard he was at the party last night and left with someone. I wish I was that lucky" Chloe kept saying, sitting on the small armchair in your room.

"And they saw who this person was?" You asked in panic, suddenly glancing at your best friend, which you regretted immediately.

"No fucking way... it was you!" Chloe almost screams, surprised and then, throwing a pillow on your face. "I can't believe you were banging the new professor!"

"In my defense, I didn't know!" You said, defending yourself. Deep down, Chloe didn't care. She wanted to see you happy. "I found out this morning... but it's okay. He doesn't want to see me"

"Too bad for him. You're too much for him, anyway" Chloe smirks, being the supportive friend you needed.

Chloe always had the ability to make you feel better with few words. You were really thankful for having her; so, you decided to do what he wanted. For the next few weeks, you watched his classes and noticed that, sometimes, he was glancing at you.

How could you both forget that night?

It was almost impossible. He made you feel so fucking good and you wanted so bad to be with him again. You even fantasized having him fucking you all over again, making you completely his. God, this was very hard. They've always said you will always want more intensely what you can't have, and they are so right about that.

And then, after one month since that party, Leon couldn't avoid that anymore.

He felt the urgency to talk to you, to smell your perfume or see your smile. He was going insane for not having you the way he did that day. Why was he feeling like that? He couldn't tell. But it felt good.

"May I have a word with you after class? It's about your essay" Leon says, closer to you and sounding very professional.

"Yes, Mr. Kennedy" You nod your head, already feeling your heart skipping a few beats and your body shaking again.

That was it.

After class, you remained sitting, waiting for your colleagues to leave his room. He avoided your eyes until there were just the two of you. Your breath was heavy, and instantly, you were feeling the heat on your body.

"What is it you want to talk with me?" You ask him, breathing nervously.

Leon gets closer to you, enough to make your body shiver. You look at his blue eyes and the image of him fucking you plays in your head like a movie.

"I shouldn't do this..." he whispers, his breath reaching your face smoothly. "But to be honest, I don't give a shit about morality anymore"

And then, he finally kissed you like he meant that.

It was everything you needed to know. He wanted you, and you wanted him. This could end bad for both of you, but you didn't care. You were weak, and he was weak as well. And right now, he wanted you more than anything.

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[gglitch1dd]

Glitch, I have a few things to say.. I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING! *most especially, DILF Izu!

And major question, Is Inko still alive in the Cheating DILF Izuku universe? If so, Would she be able to figure out what the Number 1 couples' situation is?? Maybe she would start noticing the signs? Am seriously such a sucker for how you write angst! Hope you're in good health always ♡

Cheating Dilf Izuku Pt2.5

[Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]

Inko is still alive!!

It's just that after the funeral and everything, Izuku and reader were rather hesitant to accept her help because they didn't want to not be able to do it on their own (they couldn't). And Inko does see it and notices it.

Inko and her son are very close but so is Reader and Inko too. She notices that the couple stops talking about one another, she notices that the boys seem rather on edge and she notices that you both look drained. She notices and she really does want to to do something.

"Okaasan, I have no idea what you're talking about." Izuku stated as he held his phone to his ear as he organised the laundry as he sat on the floor in the laundry room.

"Izuku, I'm smarter than you give me credit for. I know something's wrong." She said gently but still stern. "All I'm saying is, you can bring the boys to me and I can take care of them for a week. You and Y/N can go and spend some time together. Like you used to."

Izuku paused as he held a pair of mismatched socks. His mother wasn't entirely wrong. You and him did use to go on little mini vacations together. Usually not spanning more than a weekend every six or so months where you would just spend time as a couple. It was something you both always looked forward to, despite loving your boys to bits.

Often than not there was a resort in Okinawa that the both of you loved to go to, just the two of you. But it had bene just more than a year since you last went, especially since you were both supposed to go five months ago but Lord knows that didn't happen.

Izuku sighed as he set down the socks he had in his hands. "I don't know. Okaasan." He let out with a sigh. "Y/N and I... we just... I don't think she'd want to go."

"Stuff and nonsense, Izu. Why wouldn't she? I know how much she knows you adore her."

That was painful. Izuku bit back a grimace as he sighed. He leaned back, surrounded by laundry baskets that were labeled for each boy. He looked over to one that stayed filed up at the top away from sight. A label on it that read a single name. Shoyo.

"Okaasan..." He whispered as he looked up at the basket. "I really messed up." He said quietly. "I... I don't think things will ever be the same."

Inko was silent for a moment before a small sigh left her mouth. "Izuku, I won't lie to you and say that you're wrong. You're right. It won't ever be the same. Losing a child is an unbearable sort of pain that hurts more than anything imaginable." Izuku closed his eyes not wanting to think about it. "And I wish I could say that it doesn't change things. It does. However, we can only pick up the pieces and try to make life a little bit better. Talk about this to her and see what she says. I think it would be good for the both of you if you got away for a while."

Izuku was silent for a moment as he thought about it. He let out a sigh as he leaned back for a moment. There was no harm in asking and the worst you could say was no...

Actually he was wrong. The worst you could say would probably make him feel like a damn fool and no would be the best thing you could say.

But if he wanted to win his wife back... He'd have to try everything he had until his last breath.

He sighed. "Fine. Fine, I'll talk to her."

He heard some giggles on the otherside of the line before a happy laugh. "Izu you won't regret it! I can't wait to see my grandbabies again!"

Izuku raised an eyebrow as he put the socks in the washing machine like he was doing previously. "Is this you trying to help my marriage or you having an excuse to see the boys?"

"... both." He could hear her smile and it made him laugh.

After finishing with the laundry, Izuku mustered up the courage to walk into your bedroom. You were laying in bed with your laptop in front of you while Koda took a nap beside you. The little four year old held onto your arm in his sleep as you typed away on your laptop. A bunny sitting at the foot of your bed.

Izuku closed the door behind him as he kept himself a good distance away from you, not wanting to overstep. "Y/N."

"Hm?" You didn't look up at him as you kept busy at whatever you were doing. Before, you used to always pause and listen to whatever he had to say. But then again, that was when he deserved it.

"How about we go to Okinawa?"

The question made you freeze. Your eyes flicked up from your laptop before you slowly turned to look up at him. Your eyes slowly went into a glare. "To do what?" You asked, not hostility in your voice but apprehension.

"You know, just..." He shrugged. "We could spend some time there, you and me. We haven't gone in a while and I think it would be nice." You stayed silent as you just watched him. He felt nervous at your eyes on him like that. He took a step forward. "Just after our holiday with the boys and everyone, we could... if you want."

You stared at him for another minute. You then let out a scoff and turned back to continue whatever it was you were doing on your laptop. You continued to type as you kept your eyes on the screen in front of you.

Izuku let out a quiet sigh, not exactly surprised. His shoulders dropped as he turned to head to the shower.

"I'll think about it."

The sound of your voice made him freeze in place. He turned back to look at you but you continued to type away, ignoring him otherwise.

That was enough to make him smile, knowing that you gave him just a lick of hope was enough to make him happy with your answer.

-Glitch1d

#midoriya x reader angst #izuku midoriya x reader #mha x y/n #bnha #deku x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf mha #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #midoriya izuku angst #izuku midoriya

[earthtooz]

gojo satoru x reader, MAJOR hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, i just hope i did this blurb justice. NOT EDITED

imagine... gojo saving his s/o mere moments from death and the desperation that follows.

you'd been sent on a mission together, which the special grade sorcerer was very excited for initially since he gets to kick spirit ass with the love of his life. besides, with your help, the mission would be finished much faster and when you're done, he can take you out to a fancy restaurant with the bank he makes by being a sorcerer of his calibre.

not that you don't make bank yourself, but gojo likes to idea of being your 'sugar daddy', even though you tell him that 'it's weird'.

but one thing goes wrong and all of a sudden, you're in the hands of the enemy, helpless and frantic as every card up your sleeve falls to the floor- paralysed to your spot as the curse swallows your every last chance of survival.

this was it and the flash of your life hits you.

violently, too, like a really hard sensation rips through your side, the wind blows against you roughly and you thought that it'd be a little more peaceful- oh wait no, that's gojo picking you up and phasing away.

suddenly every curse has been obliterated and you're overcome with emotions that numb your being. you want to scream, sob, throw up, shake the anxiety away, crawl into a hole and hibernate.

gojo does all of the above for you.

"i thought- i thought- i thought that was it. i thought that was the end," he whispered, frantically cradling your face, hands moving everywhere along your body to make sure that you were still with him.

neither of you have the words to continue, panting together with mismatched breaths and worry-blown eyes. he eagerly ripped his own blindfold off, eyes proceeding to desperately scan every inch of your face and soul, as if gojo was trying to get a better grasp of your cursed energy in reassurance that you were still here.

once it becomes too much, he breaks down with a sob, falling to his knees at your feet as his tears ricochet onto the ground below him, holding onto your hands like they were his lifeline, a piece of you that you could sacrifice to purify his flaws and failures.

he leans his forehead onto your hands, trying to ground his breathing as he holds onto you tightly, as if making sure you couldn't slip through his fingers as delicately as last time.

"i thought- i really thought that you were going to-" gojo can't even finish his sentence before crying again, wheezing and sobbing uncontrollably, "you can't do that to me, y/n, you can't."

his voice breaks as the sorcerer looks up at you with a pool of emotion, expression vulnerable as if he was begging you to look into the fragile state of his heart because it was yours and yours his being would forever be. he surrendered to you, the miracle that has entered his life and forever changed it for the better. he surrendered to you, his lover who he'd go to any lengths for. gojo satoru, the honoured one, surrendered to you because he can sacrifice his measly pride if it means he's guaranteed another day by your side, in a safe haven he never thought he would need.

"you can't pull that on me y/n, y/n, y/n," he shakes as he repeats your name over and over again, whispering it so sacredly as if it were the only word he knew; a mantra that would fix the damage within him at seeing the most important person in his life almost- almost- almost-

you sink to his level with gleaming eyes, tears woefully streaming down your face to join his ones on the concrete below. holding his face oh so gently, you shakily smile, "satoru, i'm okay. i'm okay because of you."

he can't help the sob that rips through him as you lean to press a kiss to his temple, allowing gojo to find solace in your collarbone. he clings onto your clothes so tightly, still desperately searching for the extra reassurance that he didn't fail, not again.

"you can't, y/n, out of all people, it can't be you," he heaves, voice growing softer and breaths growing calmer the longer you hold the delicate man.

"we're okay, satoru, and we'll be okay for a long time."

haha you're so cute when you tell me if you liked that 😁😁 pls reblog... or follow... or like... please?

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader hurt/comfort #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

[bookworm-2692]

Life Tracker updated for Episode 7! This one is much quicker than Episode 6 on account of not being on holiday at the time, even though there were two thirds more deaths this time. Previous posts: Session 6, Session 5, Session 4. Also Session 8 (finale) post!

As usual, close ups and commentary below the cut. I’ve also added another graph for the average time of each team, which will also be below the cut.

There was so much carnage! 45 whole deaths in a single session! Not all deaths were awarded time during the session, but Scott’s video advised that it would be added by next session, so I have taken the liberty to add all the time as I see fit, hence why Scott is back to 7.5 hours. I haven’t seen every episode yet (in fact, other than Scott, I’ve only seen those that have perma-died), so I’m not sure if anyone else’s time is a mismatch, but if so I’m happy to explain where I’m getting my time additions and subtractions from!

Now for some close ups.

First, there was enough chaos that I decided to take a close up of Session 6 and 7 together so we can properly appreciate it:

And a close up of Session 7 by itself:

So many people lost major time, so it’s interesting to see Scott’s uptick of time at the end - he ended on only 30 minutes less than he would have been if he hadn’t died at all this session. Pearl didn’t die at all, and got the kill credit for Martyn blowing himself up in a trap, so she actually ended the session 30 minutes better than she started it. Grian also did very well for himself - he killed and died so many times, but somehow ended on the exact time he would have been on if he had experienced a peaceful deathless session.

BigB, Cleo, and Martyn all ended the session 1 hour poorer than they started, and Bdubs and Scar ended 1.5 hours below where they would have been. Nosy Neighbours are thus doing super well, with Mean Gills and Clockers not too far behind, in terms of maintaining position from the start of the session.

TIES had an awful time this session, with Impulse and Tango both losing a net 2 hours, and Etho and Skizz losing a net 2.5 hours - and obviously Skizz entirely died.

Joel possibly had the worst time, losing a net 3.5 hours this session - though it didn’t help that 5 of his 7 deaths were all caused by the one person. Technically Jimmy didn’t do too badly, given he only lost a net 1.5 hours... but given that he was out of the series only an hour into the session, and also the first out entirely... it really didn’t go well for him either

I also find it interesting the sheer number of vertical lines this graph, the ones representing a death immediately followed by a kill or vice versa. I would love to figure out a way to show only one line at a time on the graph, so we can more easily see someone’s journey, but I haven’t had time to look into it yet.

Now onto the graph of the average times per team.

This one is super interesting to me, especially TIES’s line - they had the lowest average life right from the start, but somehow by Session 4, through Session 5, and for most of Session 6, they were the team with the highest average time, and then it quite literally went downhill from there. The only thing saving them from being last now is the fact that the Bad Boys are down to only a single living player, and even then Grian is doing far better than most of TIES.

It’s also interesting to me how Mean Gills had a significant time uptick at the end of both Session 6 and Session 7 (the first due to Martyn and the second due to Scott). Scott’s time was so high that it kept Mean Gills’ average time as yellow for all of Session 6 despite Martyn being red for most of it... and Martyn then got enough kills to keep it there. Mean Gills is also the only team in the entire graph to anywhere gain such consistent significant time.

These averages also coincide with the comments I made above about the time offset difference for each player from the start to end of the session. Mean Gills are doing well, but they’ve been doing well for so long that I’m sure most players are aware that they need to be a target. Nosy Neighbours are also doing well but I feel like they’ve flown under the radar, and are not a significant target right now.

Here is a close up of this graph with Sessions 1-4:

And the close up for Session 5-7:

And the Session 7 only close up:

I kept the dead players in the teams’ averages, since I think it is a better reflection of the teams’ strength as a whole, but I also created a version that excluded dead players. In those screenshots you can really see Bad Boys’ and TIES’ time jumping up at a death, instead of falling as it did here.

Here are the alternate averages graph:

And close ups:

This makes Bad Boys look a lot better, because Grian does have a lot of time... but he is also alone. And there is definitely strength in numbers. Two players at an hour and a half each can fend off an attacker more easily than a single player at three hours can... unless nerves and panic get to them, as we definitely saw this session.

Wow and I almost forgot to include the raw data for this session!

The first hour of the session:

The second hour of the session:

There is just so much death! Look at all the box outlines!! I could barely fit this data on two screens on the zoom I was on, and I did not want to zoom out further.

I also obviously have data for the averages, but it was too far away from the column with the times on it that I wasn’t sure if it would still be useful on its own? Let me know if you want to see it!

This has once again been fascinating to see, and I cannot wait to see how Session 8 will go. Will it be the last session? Will they go until everyone is dead? Will they somehow have enough people with enough time to get to Session 9? Will Mean Gills be the final two and get to play fun relaxing games like Scott was suggesting? 

Only time will tell.

#limited life smp #24lsmp #limlife #once again i hate trying to work out what tags for a post #i got to this point in the tags before i realised i forgot to add the number data #i still love that impulse accidentally killed scott and became yellow again #and that scott also became yellow again #so there was less than 14 minutes between there still being two yellows on the server... and jimmy permadying #thirteen minutes and 41 seconds exactly by my calculations #which is crazy given we had whole sessions of yellows only #which meant it was hours between last green and first red #so less than a quarter of an hour between last yellows (and two of them!) and first permadeath is crazy #i always ramble in the tags bc i dont know how to wrap the post up #why do i always post these as im going to bed #its after midnight and im yawning now #anyway enjoy! #very glad i got to post this before the weekend ended this time #well it was still sunday when i started writing the post #its 12:15am on monday now. technically #my spreadsheets

[pinkrasberryfish]

I feel like a major part of Elriel is just like… the matching vibe. This is something we see in our other ACOTAR couples, and it’s partly why Elriel makes so much damn sense as endgame.

Let’s draw some comaprisons.

So baby Feysand. Feyre and Rhys have obvious compatibilities in their motivations, desires, and beliefs. They both give major Saviour Main Character energy by being self-sacrificing, fearless, and driven by morality and goodness above all else. Their love is centered around the themes of fate and destiny while their personalities share the same competitive spirit that binds them as friends AND lovers. They also both struggle with feeling “other,” and have overcome major trials to become stronger. In short, they carry the same compatible energy.

Then Nessian. Nesta and Cassian also share a similar energy even though they seem extremely different at first glance. When dissected, this pairing has similar drives, vibes, and goals. Firstly, they both have STRONG personalities. Nesta is outwardly chilly and confident, matching Cassian’s bold and gregarious energy. He is intense enough to match his mate, and the pair of them both share an extremely protective edge. Both tend to be overconfident and willing to charge into a fight they might not win, physically OR verbally. These two like to be opponents—to each other, to life, and to obstacles. They’re both always on the hunt for a fight, and share the same themes and desires.

Finally, we have Elriel. Elain and Azriel share similar themes, personality traits, and goals, just like Nessian and Feysand. They are both are observant, reserved, and easily contented. They have a quiet type of humor and seem to enjoy the small and simple things that others take for granted, like the freedom to fly or a quiet afternoon putzing around a garden. They’re never jostling for power amongst their siblings or trying to get prestige for their names. They both seem motivated by a strong inner desire to remain true to who they are, though they never hesitate to help or serve others. They seem motivated by love and the pursuit of a peaceful life, but are very quick to sacrifice their own desires for the greater good. They match!

This is why it feels so absurd to imagine Nesta with Rhysand or Feyre with Azriel or Elain with Cassian. Cassian needs a verbal sparring partner: Elain couldn’t be that for him. Azriel needs someone to listen without trying to problem-solve: Feyre couldn’t be that. And Nesta and Rhys would just kill each other. I know it’s pointless to say all this, but I’m just showing that we can see a romantic mismatch way quicker than a romantic MATCH.

Love stories that make SENSE and tickle the soul are the ones where the pair desire similar things while ALSO desiring each other. It’s not enough to have a sexy enemies-to-lovers or teacher-student premise. You need a couple that WORKS. Compatibilities are what makes characters drawn to one another even more than being beautiful or sexy or rich or whatever. Because all these characters are sexy and eternally gorgeous. That’s not enough to fuel the tension and draw and chemistry in an entire story. You need them to be chasing the same things and viewing the world in a way where they can understand how the other views it.

So anyways… Elriel is coming.

#elriel #elriel forever #pro elriel #elain archeron #elriel supremacy #pro elain #elain x azriel #elain #elriel trash #elriel is perfection #pro elain archeron #elain archeron is perfect

[ghosttotheparty]

can I request 31 and/or 70 on the prompts list you just posted for platonic!steveandrobin? I've been on a major stranger things kick recently and I love your writing :)

ok first of all i wanna thank you for this prompt bc this is the first time i’ve ever cried while *planning* a fic like i hadn’t even started writing it but i was in my kitchen making myself buttered noodles with tears streaming down my face just thinking about what i wanted to write

that being said i used both prompts bc i couldn’t not

31. “If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.” 70. “It’s three a.m. Why are you making soup?” dialogue prompts!!

Steve is a light sleeper.

He’s always been a light sleeper, waking up to loud wind or thunder, to sunlight pressing to his eyelids early in the morning if he forgot to pull his curtains shut the night before, but it’s gotten worse since the Upside Down. Any quiet noise of the house settling, of a branch tapping a window, has him blinking his eyes open and sitting up.

There’s a quiet clatter in the kitchen downstairs, and he sits up, his heart pounding. The room is mostly dark except for the nightlight by the bathroom door. Eddie is still asleep, laying on his belly with his face on Steve’s pillow, his cheek squished. Steve exhales, looking at him, touching his hair for a moment, but he freezes when there’s another noise.

Slowly, he gets out of bed, careful not to wake Eddie up, and he steps across the room as quietly as he can, holding the nail bat as he creeps out of the room and down the hall. He lowers the bat when he sees that the kitchen light is on, and he glances down the hall, his heart still pounding to see that Robin’s bedroom door is open.

He lowers the bat as he descends the stairs, carrying it by his side as he enters the kitchen, squinting in the light to find Robin at the stove, wearing one of Eddie’s t-shirts, a 1979 AC/DC shirt that goes down to her knees, and a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks that Will gifted her a while ago.

“Rob?”

She glances over her shoulder at him.

“Hi.”

He sets the bat by the entryway, glancing at the time on the clock above the window as he steps up behind her and looks at what she’s doing.

“Rob, it’s three am,” he says quietly. “Why are you making soup?”

She shrugs without looking at him, stirring the pot slowly. He watches the vegetables shift in the soup. It smells good.

“Just wanted some soup,” she says softly. Her voice is thick.

“What’s going on?” he asks gently, touching her back.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Her voice cracks. Steve blinks at her, quiet for a moment he reaches slowly for the spoon in her hand. She lets him take it, sniffling, and he sets it over the pot, turning down the burner, and he pulls at her hand.

“What’s going on?” he asks again, quieter. She glances up into his eyes but looks at the floor, and he pulls her to the dining table, nudging her into a chair and sitting across from her. “Talk to me.”

She takes a shaky breath, her fingers knotting in her lap.

“You know that… bad feeling I had?” she says quietly. “Before we fought Vecna?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, leaning closer.

“…It’s back.”

Steve’s chest tightens, but she speaks before he can say anything.

“I know it’s— I know everything is fine,” she says. “And Vecna’s dead, and all the gates are closed, and everyone is— everyone is fine, but I… It’s like there’s just this… perpetual pit in my stomach.” Her voice is shaking. “And I don’t…”

“Hey,” Steve says gently, reaching out and taking her hand. He moves his chair closer noisily, and she laughs wetly, squeezing his hand. “You listening?”

“Mhmm.”

“You know everything is okay,” he says slowly. “And you know it’s normal to have anxiety after all that,” he adds gently. “Right?”

“I know,” she says weakly. “It’s just…” Her lip wobbles and her eyes glisten. A tear slips down her cheek, and he reaches out to wipe it away.

“Deep breath,” he says softly. She inhales shakily, closing her eyes, and he leans forward to kiss her forehead. “It’s okay, Rob.”

She sighs, squeezing his hand tightly.

“What else?” he says quietly. She smiles at the floor, squeezing his hand again.

“I think we might actually telepathic,” she mutters. “‘S ridiculous.”

“We definitely are,” he says, smiling. “But you still gotta say what’s wrong out loud for me.”

She lets out a soft laugh again before she looks at the ground.

Her smile falters and falls, and her eyes glaze over, and she hesitates, holding Steve’s hand tightly.

“I have this… this thing in my head. That’s just kind of… I don’t know. Stuck.”

“Tell me,” Steve prompts quietly.

Her lip wobbles again. She bites it, blinking hard and taking a breath.

“I know it’s shitty,” she says weakly. “And if— if you, or Eddie or Nance, or any of kids said this about themselves, I would be so pissed, and I—”

“Robin. What is it?” Steve whispers. She takes a deep breath.

“I feel…” She swallows, breathing heavily, biting her lip. He wipes another tear from her cheek tenderly, his chest aching. “…Disposable.”

His stomach falls, and he squeezes her hand.

“What do you mean?”

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Just… I don’t know, just, like, I can… I can be left behind.”

“Why would you think that?” Steve asks brokenly, his hand shaking as he holds hers tightly. “Robbie…”

“I think—” She pauses, taking a deep breath, wiping her nose on her wrist. “When I was a kid, I… I didn’t have many friends? And the friends I did have were… I don’t know. I was always the one that didn’t go if there were limited invitations. I always walked behind everyone on narrow sidewalks.” Steve wants to cry. “I… I never really talked much because I never knew what to say, and I never had… anything to add. And when I tried, I… They would just…” She sniffs, squeezing his hand tightly, taking a hiccuping breath. “They would just stare at me, like— like I was speaking gibberish. And then they’d just… move on.”

“Robin,” Steve tries to say, but she just takes a gasping breath and squeezes his hand again.

“And then I didn’t go with them one day,” she says, staring at the floor. “And nobody… called. Or came by to check on me, or anything, so I just… gave up. And then on the first day of seventh grade, I sat all alone at lunch, and I—” She cuts off with a gasp, closing her eyes as tears fall, and Steve releases her hand to wipe them away gently, his own eyes burning. “They were all sitting together, laughing, and smiling, and— and it was like they didn’t even notice I wasn’t there, because they didn’t need me.”

Steve’s whole body hurts. He wants to run her brain under water, wash away all the self-deprecating thoughts she’s ever had. He wants to tell her that he needs her. He needs her more than air.

“And I think— I think also my parents?” she says, her hand finding his wrist and holding it tightly. Her voice is weak and squeaking and almost broken, and Steve can feel his heart breaking with it. “They always— They always went to dinner and— and on day trips, and I thought all parents did that until my friends said their parents didn’t do that, so I just… thought they loved each other and went on— on, like, dates, but then they— they went out on my thirteenth birthday—”

She sobs, squeezing his wrist, and he leans in to kiss her forehead again, trying to take a steady breath as a tear falls from his eye.

“And I realised they just don’t like me.”

“I like you,” Steve says firmly. She laughs wetly, wiping her face, but he holds her face and moves to kneel on the floor in front of her, looking up at her. “Robbie.”

“I just…” She takes a stuttering breath, closing her eyes. “Feel like I’m the… left behind one.”

He takes her hands.

“What does that mean?”

“Like I’m… If something happens,” she says, avoiding his eyes. There’s a pit in his stomach. “I’ll be… I’ll be the one that’s left behind so everyone can get away.”

“Robin,” he says breathlessly, his eyes burning, because she's wrong. He can’t even put into words how fucking wrong she is.

“I know,” she says, crying. “I just… That’s me.”

“No,” he says firmly, desperately. “It’s not. You’re not fucking disposable, Robin.”

She finally looks into his eyes, and they’re swimming with tears.

“I love you,” he says firmly. “I love you so much.”

She sniffs, staring back at him.

“I know,” she says weakly.

“No,” he says, his voice too loud. “You don’t know, Robin, you’re— you’re the best fucking friend I’ve ever had, and I love you.”

She sobs, squeezing her eyes shut, and he reaches up, wrapping his arms around her neck, pulling her down into a hug. Her hands grip his shirt tightly. She’s trembling.

“I love you so much,” he says softly, running a hand over the back of her head gently. His knees ache on the tile floor, but he doesn’t care. “You are not disposable, Robin Buckley. I don’t know where the fuck I’d be without you.”

When her crying quiets, he pulls away enough to touch her face, wiping her tears and under her nose before he wipes his hand on her leg, on the t-shirt. She scoffs, still crying, and he smiles up at her, his chest still aching.

“Look at me,” he says softly, wiping away a tear that falls down his cheek. She does, holding the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders tightly, like she’s scared to let go. “If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations,” he says slowly, watching her smile weakly, “trust that I will save you every single time.

She closes her eyes, letting her head fall to his, pressing their foreheads together.

“…Okay.”

“I love you, Robbie.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, and he closes his eyes, his arms sliding around her waist. He buries his face in her shoulder. Her shirt smells like some odd combination of her and Eddie. It smells like home.

“Okay?” he asks when they pull away slowly. She nods, her eyes still closed. He kisses her forehead. “Your brain is lying to you,” he says softly.

“She’s really mean,” Robin murmurs.

“Yeah, fuck her.”

Robin laughs softly, wiping her nose one last time.

“Thanks, Steve.”

He lowers back to sit on his calves, looking up at her, almost in physical pain from how much he loves her. Like every cell in his body is bursting with it.

It looks like she’s wearing heavy mascara, her eyelashes clumped with tears, her cheeks and nose rosy red, her eyes still shining as she looks down at him, holding his hands. His lip quivers and his eyes burn.

“Let’s have some soup,” he says.

A giggle escapes her.

“It’s three am.”

He shrugs.

“Let’s not waste anything,” he says. “Let’s have soup.”

“Okay.”

“What do you need help with?” he asks, using her knees to stand up, and she snorts.

“Like I’m letting you near the stove.”

“Wow.”

“Go get Eddie.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He takes the bat back upstairs as Robin takes a deep breath, turning the burner back up at the stove.

“Eddie,” Steve says softly, sitting in the bed next to him. “Baby.” He touches his hair, gently nudging him awake.

“Hm?”

“Robin’s making soup.”

Eddie blinks blankly at him in the dimness of the room, squinting, his face still squished on the pillow.

“Am I awake right now?” he asks, his voice rough. Steve laughs softly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Yes,” he says. “C’mon.”

Eddie sits up slowly, stretching.

“What time is it?” he mumbles.

“Like three.”

“Why’s Robin making soup at three in the morning?”

“Uh…” Steve hesitates, looking at him. “She’s having a rough night.”

“Nightmares?” Eddie asks, looking at him. “Or something different?”

“Something different.”

Eddie nods.

“Will she want a hug?”

“Probably,” Steve says softly, smiling. “Maybe ask her.”

“I will.”

He kisses Steve chastely before he follows him down to the kitchen. He’s wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts from high school, with a tiger on the front. Steve realises he’s wearing one of Robin’s old sweaters, a size too big for any of them. And he almost laughs. They might as well just move all their clothes into one wardrobe.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Eddie asks, stepping up next to Robin to see into the pot. She laughs softly.

“Veggie soup.”

“Veggie?” Eddie says dramatically, making her laugh again. Steve sits on the table, watching them. (He never got to sit on the table as a kid. Now it’s his favourite place.)

“Keep an open mind, Munson,” Robin says, stirring the soup.

“Only for you, pretty lady.”

Eddie can tell she’s been crying. Steve watches as he goes to the sink and pours a glass of water, bringing it to her and murmuring something quietly to her. She nods, taking the glass, and he hugs her, kissing her temple as she sips the water. Steve wants to cry again.

They join him on the table to eat the soup, all three of them with their legs crossed, holding the bowls carefully. Robin beams when Eddie says firmly that it’s good shit.

And when the sun finally rises, they’re all tangled together on the sofa, snoring quietly.

#and now trauma for robin #physical affection!!! #words of affirmation!!! #quality time!!! #acts of service!!! #you get a love language!! you get a love language!! you get a love language!! #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #stobin #steddie #stranger things #platonic soulmates stobin

[themanlykittenkayden]

Okay, I’m basing this off of someone else’s translation, but my understanding is that Etoiles’ “corruption” by the code shield wasn’t actually corruption at all but was instead him overusing the shield’s power and it seeping into his wounds to heal him (so cool btw).

So, if that’s the case, could the code virus be another one of the Federation’s experiments to achieve perfection?

Cause illness and pain and injury are sources of major suffering in people, and suffering obstructs people from true happiness, and we know they had interest in controlling life and death in other experiments.

I think in their experiments they might have actually succeeded- whether in curing someone of permanent injury or reviving someone who permanently died- but like forcing a broken file to open, their whole being didn’t come back together right. Their code was put back together in a mismatched mess and it corrupted them to be unrecognizable from who they were before.

The Federation aren’t the type to take one death as an answer though. So they continue to experiment, tackling it from different angles: What if we try to bring back a different kind of entity, a partially artificial one like the eggs? What about federation workers, maybe on a clone of one of the subordinates? Could we use it in isolation, for example to regenerate a missing limb?

I think you can follow where I’m going. The Codes, Juanaflippa, Maxo, maybe even Quackity have possibly all been a part of the same experiment. A messed up quest to achieve a true regeneration through player code.

#qsmp #This would mean that Juannaflippa is actually real and the theory that she just came back wrong would be correct #It would also fit in with the theory that the codes are former residents or eggs that have a vendetta against the Federation #It could even lead to a very interesting arc where people are able to get unpresedented power outside of the federation for a high cost risk #It’s both simple and complicated enough that I think it COULD be the direction this is going

[thatsrightice]

Martin-Baker is a company that for more than 70 years has specialized in engineering the ejection seats utilized a majority of the world’s fighter jets. They have saved thousands of lives that in otherwise would likely have been lost. Martin-Baker revolutionized an industry that for a long time had been characterized by low survival rates, and in doing so have created an exclusive club very few are able to join, one that unifies aviators in a way that will never be taken away. I’d say only the best of the best are allowed in, but that wouldn’t be true.

A lifetime membership to the Martin-Baker Ejection Tie Club is awarded to those who have ejected from an aircraft using a Martin-Baker ejection seat, which as a result has saved their life.

These are (some of) their stories…

DAVE “BIO” BARANEK

EJECTEE #4813

For me and my pilot, 19 December 1981 was the date of a memorable excursion in a Martin-Baker ejection seat following a split-second decision to eject. I was an F-14 RIO and we were landing on an aircraft carrier in the Indian Ocean when things went wrong. I was fairly new, but I realized we were in trouble, and when my pilot said “Eject! Eject!” I pulled the lower handle. It happened in the blink of an eye, and only later could I be philosophical about it, to think about leaving the familiar and comfortable cockpit for the unknown. Thanks to the Martin-Baker MK-GRU7A seat my pilot and I survived in excellent condition and have enjoyed 38 (and counting) more years of living, flying, families, and everything else. I am thankful for the skilled US Navy technicians who maintained our equipment and the people of Martin-Baker who provided the seat that saved my life.

CDR. J. R. DAVIS

EJECTEE #4004

Martin-Baker – Thank you for the rest of my life. On 20 March 1987 my F-14A ran away with me as an unwilling passenger. Fire in the environmental control system burned through the flight controls. The airplane started un-commanded pitch oscillations and the last nose down excursion made it clear that I had to eject. My ride in F-14 BuNo 161614 ended 15 seconds before the crash with a Martin-Baker ejection seat and a parachute descent. My wife Sweet Denyse thanks you too.

CDR. TODD A PARKER

EJECTEE #4822

“It was a spring day in 1995 about 200 miles SW of Sicily. The USS Theodore Roosevelt was heading up to the Adriatic to enter the Bosnia conflict. As we expected combat, we needed to make sure as many jets as possible were up and ready so the past few days had been a maintenance blitz. We were conducting a post-maintenance check flight on our F-14 Tomcat, which the jet passed with flying colors.

After the flight we were heading back to the carrier, when suddenly the jet began bucking like a bronco – negative 2 Gs followed by 5 Gs, back and forth for about 1 minute, then it suddenly stopped. We couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but another aircraft joined up and noticed a mismatch in our horizontal stabilators. After two more events similar to the first, each time with the jet losing about 5000 feet, the jet suddenly pitched over into a negative 2 G dive and started rolling uncontrollably. I looked at the altimeter and it read 3000 feet so I pulled the handle. After the loud flash and bang, I found myself under the parachute, and looked down just in time to see the jet hit the water – what turned out to be just 4 seconds after we ejected. We were both safely under parachute, with only minor injuries but alive. We were plucked out of the water by helos from the carrier about 45 minutes later. –

Thanks to Martin-Baker and my Parachute Rigger, I am still alive, and by being able to “live to tell” about our story a major mechanical problem was found. All F-14 Tomcats were subsequently inspected and the same problem was found on dozens of other jets, so Martin-Baker not only saved my life but likely prevented many other aviators from (at best) joining the Tie Club themselves or at worst losing their lives. It was just a month later that a high school friend who heard I was deployed wrote me a letter…We’ve now been married 17 years with two wonderful children. Thank you Martin-Baker!!!

#I chose some F-14 ones cause they’re relevant #the stories go way back too #you can search through their catalogs and read hundreds of accounts from all kinds of people who flew all kinds of aircraft #they have a search bar #aviation #Martin-Baker Ejection Tie Club #have this to keep you entertained while I am flying these next two days… not far but reception will be nonexistent onboard #two seperate flights to clarify #I’m not going anywhere crazy sorry lol #top gun #top gun maverick #research #(kinda) #info #stories #text #history #I like planes #airplane history! #just a little thing i wrote #reference

[the-witchs-cafe]

Jamaluddin

The Chimera Witch, with an idealistic nature. Seeking to pour beauty into this empty, unjust world, he allows the paint to seep from his nails and hollowed-out head- and on to the canvas. With every stroke of a brush and measurement taken, the witch would feel his vitality slipping away, but it's nothing compared to the glory of what stands high and tall in his mind - the picture of an elegant paradise for all to behold and enjoy -, but it is all so brittle; the structures will crumble without fail, and so shall his patience.

Tearing apart these imperfect scribbles and lines with these mismatched claws in the hopes of forgetting his burdens, nothing but basic blueprints will remain, and the cycle begins once again. One hoping to defeat him must possess a charitable soul, but to be wary as to not fall into the pit of self-deterioration whilst following the paths set by their heart.

--

Barrier appearance:

Befitting an architect like him, it would be as if you have stepped into a blueprint for a magnificent palace in the works. Seamless lines fill the white voids that surround the place, with the more "complete" areas being decked out with furnishings that would be fitting for a tavern or a small home.

Unfortunately, it appears that the witch is not yet completely done with the renovations; trying so hard to gather up whatever he could find just to bring out what he sees in his mind to reality. As such, the vast majority of the place still looks like they're made up of hastily-made sketches, and some of the less-maintained areas appear to be doodled in...crayon?

The bright emptiness is overwhelming- almost as much as the scent of aging wine...

--

Cause behind his appearance:

The belief that he had caused his father to spiral and eventually lose his life by encouraging his to take on the tournament in the first place. This event also marked his mother's mental health to deteriorate and both of their lives becoming harder as result. While he is not as unlucky as, let's say, Bennett, omens of bad luck are something to consider.

Another reason as to why he is a chimera is because its asymmetrical appearance, and something so heinous like that would not pass as an architectural design; more salt on Kaveh's wounds.

--

Familiars:

Golshan. Minions of the Chimera Witch. Their task is to commission. Ever the chatty beings, these hummingbirds would often nestle behind the ears of the witch and blabber their desires and criticisms. Every little detail, every little idea born from the pouring ink, every line drawn and measurement taken; surely, he could do better. Plan this once more; return to them once he has made something the two can agree on.

-

Hasan. Minion of the Chimera witch. His duty is to critique. An eagle with feathers of jade and a heart of ice. As the witch strains himself before inevitably shutting down once more, all he does is watch over his master with nothing but exasperation in his eyes. Just as the witch doesn't want his work to be tampered with, the avian doesn't like his time wasted; as such, any and all intruders are to be disposed of. At least the two managed to agree on a single sentiment for once...

#genshin impact #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #kaveh #Writing on the Wall #witch cards #Jamaluddin #mod h.n elly

[vourequat]

ENJOU. ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ 𝑨 𝑵 𝑮 𝑺 𝑻— “Differences divide, you'd be a fool to believe it'll make you unique.”

WARNING: braint rot, pure angst ig, major character death, the reader will be a jerk, angst again, no comfort, cry yourself to sleep, this will hurt (I made sure it did.)

"Judging from your expression... you haven't forgotten me, have you?" Enjou laughed as she held a single piece of a small lamp grass.

It was unusual to hear such a being laugh let alone with a face that can barely accommodate to show emotions other than its flaming red eyes that bore into you.

With sword the at ready you created a huge distance between you and the abyss lector.

It didn't seem to take a hint and moved even closer to you, "Oh come on... you're not really going to draw that sword into me, now are you?"

He was just utterly annoying.

"Don't even dare take another step, creature" He stopped immediately when you dropped those words filled with venom. "What—"

"Don't you get it? You're a monster, I don't care if you used to be human... no one cares... you're a monster of the abyss and that's what you will be until the end of time!" You shouted, you didn't want to admit it but the amount of encounters with the abyss order has left scars on you to the point that just by the mere mention of it shook you to the very core. Enjou scared you without even knowing.

Enjou laughs, "Y-You don't mean that..." He tried to deny it deep inside of him. To him he was still the same Enjou he last saw in the mirror before the inevitable fall of his home but why can't you see it too? Why wouldn't you try to stop and see that he was still there? Waiting... praying... begging...

"Traveler... you don't mean that, say it that you don't mean it!" He tried to keep on denying what you keep on telling him— you and him were a mismatched puzzle piece, made from the same material but were not made for each other.

"Just accept it... you will never be human."

He tried to approach you again even though you kept your sword ready, he took your hand and placed down the lamp grass onto your hands.

His hands are so warm and welcoming despite his appearance but you knew that you'll just end up hurting him... betraying him, it would be the best decision to drive him away as soon as possible before neither of you got attached.

After the lamp grass was safely in your arms that is when Enjou himself made that distance you've long been doing to him, he stood there with soulless eyes that used to be full with curiosity and love for discovery— now he was just an abyss lector.

"You're right... I will never be the human that was destined for you, I just wanted to be friends... I just wanted to be different..." He looked down on his claws and back at you, seeing the difference between how you two looked like.

The other would live a normal life in Teyvat while the other will forever be condemned and hunted for because of a reputation.

"I wanted to feel human again."

For the very first time, you somehow felt sorry for this creature— this cursed figure that once had hopes and dreams forever trapped in dreamland for what the unmerciful gods had done to his people and his home. He was just human too.

He wanted to approach you again but he could sense that fear in you ever since you two have crossed paths, even now. Just from the sight of him he knew you'd be scared, at first he didn't completely get it as he had already proved that his intentions were not against you but he now knew.

Even if he forced it, you were not fit to be with each other no matter how he puts it; friends, family, strangers, lovers... you truly were at different sides of the same coin.

"I... I'm so sorry, traveler..." His flaming red eyes softened as it landed upon you for the very last time.

He continued to fly back, away from you until it was a good distance that couldn't harm both of you, "Soon I will succumb to the curse like every last bit of my comrades... and then I will not come back, I will not remember you."

"I—"

"I will leave now" Enjou said shortly as he turned away from you.

"I truly am an idiot, traveler... thinking there'll be no limits to friendship... you and I are truly different." He decided to turn back again but this time he saw that you had already dropped your sword by your side in a relaxed stance.

He really wanted you in many ways; to be the one to show him the world of Teyvat, to be the one to introduce him to things he has missed out on.

He wanted to be your friend but differences divide most people, no matter how hard they try to push the limits— limits will always be limits, they'll be the only line to stand on, no one can break the barrier if you were never meant for each other.

Life will always find ways to separate a bond that was never meant to be, never to last for an eternity, never to be according to what you want.

You could feel the warmth from his body lessening around the place, you wanted to lunge and stop him but it was too late as he already jumped into the portal that most likely connected directly back to the Abyss.

"Traveler... I will never forget you even if I'm fully consumed by the curse, you will always be a friend to me even if I am not to you."

A/N: No memes that I most likely saved in my gallery for no inherent reason for the time being, I'm going through a heart breaking heart break that I do not know how to cope with other than listening to songs that make my situation even sadder than it already is.

I said so much but basically I'm going through a break up and it's so ugh and it actually ended so healthily with closure and all, but anyways, more angst to come your way because my schedule is now clear but I won't be sure that writer's block will not stop me.

— Xoxo, your most scrumptiously amazing writer.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #genshin imagines #angst #send asks #send anons #genshin enjou #enjou #the thing calling itself enjou #writing is very hard #writers on tumblr #writeblr #radiohead

[margot-is-writing]

PROMPT 1 - GIRL CRUSH

YOU WOULD BEG FOR HER ATTENTION. SHE’S EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER WANTED. THEN, ONE DAY, SHE WAVES AT YOU.

LET ME GO FIRST, THEN SHARE YOUR STORY WITH THE #MARGOTSPROMPT

Word count: 941

The train moves through the city, buildings blur together. Yet they’re not what I’m looking at. My eyes move through the corridors, until I find her blonde head. My heart speeds up. For a moment, I thought she wasn’t here. Instead of jumping and giggling for the joy I’m feeling, I go to sit in front of her.

As every other morning, she’s reading the newspaper. During the journey, she skips the sports articles, enjoying more the ones about fashion. Maybe she’s a fashion student, I wish I had the audacity to ask her about it. Maybe she would tell me about her major, and I’d tell her about my own college experience, how I’m finding it hard to smile when I’m away from my parents. Instead of doing that, I simply steal glances, until I notice her blue eyes look up, then I know it’s time for me to feign indifference. She gets off the train at her usual stop.

I take a deep breath. An old woman gets on the train and sits where she was sitting, and I’m left wondering whether, one day, I’ll be brave enough to talk to her. I wish that day would come.

She smells of fresh lemons. It’s something I’m left to think about after she’s gotten off the train. A man sits at her spot, and I cross my legs to occupy as little space as possible. I start doodling on my journal, and soon it’s her face looking up at me. She has sharp cheekbones and soft lips. I wish I would know their taste.

I buy a perfume that smells of citrus fruits, yet when I try it on in my small bathroom, it’s not the same. A wave of melancholy washes over me, and I tear up. God, I must be going crazy. We’ve never even talked, yet I’m already imagining what it would be like to live with her by my side. Wake by her side in the morning. Walk my dog with her. It’s a life I desire desperately, one I fear I’ll never have. I get to taste it every morning when I sit by her, and it’s enough to keep me wanting, but not to feed my hunger much longer. I have to talk to her.

It’s a day later that it happens. I’m wearing my big, white headphones and walking down the corridor, and as I do every morning, I spot her head. She’s not alone, though. There’s an old man sitting in front of her, occupying the seat next to him with a heavy-looking backpack.

My heart breaks. For a moment, I think about going there and begging him to switch seats. “You don’t understand!” I would scream. “I need this!” But then, I’m not that crazy yet, so I don’t yell and cry. Instead, I idly sit elsewhere. Not so distant that I can’t see her, but enough that I can’t smell her perfume.

Maybe she smells like that because she uses a body cream. I should look up a lemon body cream on Amazon. If I had her smell close, maybe my dependence on her would diminish. Then again, no drug is ever enough for an addict.

I sigh and relax my back against the back-pillow. For a moment I close my eyes, and in my mind, her face pops up. She’s sad that I’m not sitting in my usual place, and she wishes I would’ve switched seats with the man. She’s disappointed, and I can’t stand it.

I’m disappointed in myself, actually. Because I’m really going crazy. I’m thinking so hard about someone who hasn’t even noticed I exist in the same world as her. She’s everything, and I’m just me, with my old backpack and mismatched socks. My eyes burn.

There’s a kid sitting in front of me. Well, not really a kid, probably just a few years younger than me, but I feel as though lifetimes go between us. He’s wearing his hat backwards, over hair the colour of sand. He looks me up and down, then furrows his eyebrows. I smile, then another blonde head catches my eyes.

She’s leaving. And to reach the doors, she’s walking towards me. Her hair is straight today, and she’s wearing a blue minidress, the tight kind that makes me look enormous. I wish I were her.

Just as I have that thought, something unexpected happens. Her beautiful eyes catch mine, my heart loses a few beats, and then — then she waves. She waves at me. She knows I exist.

My heart drops, at the same time as I raise my hand to wave back. I try to put on another smile, but it’s not real. Nothing feels real after this. Because I’ve seen her, she’s seen me, but she’s just a girl.

She’s just a girl whose name I don’t know. A girl who dresses nice and is very beautiful, but that’s it. She’s just another girl, and I’m everything. I’m not saying she’s nothing, but in my life, she is. She’s a stranger. I don’t know her. I know a few of her habits, like the way she picks her skin as her eyes skim through the newspaper, but what is she to me?

I’ve obsessed over her. I like her style. She has rizz, if that’s something to believe in. She’s charming in the way her hair bounces off her petit shoulder when she stands, but what else?

She’s just a girl. It makes me so sad I might just break down and cry, because if I don’t have her to obsess about, what am I left with?

#writing #writing prompt #writing prompts #my writing #margot #girl crush #wlw #lesbian story #MARGOTSPROMPT

[lgbtqmanga]

New Releases Jan 23, 2024

Bofuri: I Don't Want to Get Hurt, So I'll Max Out My Defense (manga) vol. 7 by Yuumikan, Jirou Oimoto and Koin

Maple Tree are duking it out against the Flame Empire, but even after pulling out every secret technique they have, their opponents refuse to go down without a fight! And even if Maple and her guildmates manage to come through, what awaits them is the top-ranked guild in the game—the Order of the Holy Sword. Just how will the fourth event shake out?!

Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon REMIX by Adi Shankar, Ben Kahn, and Bayou Kun

A boys love manga adaptation of the upcoming Netflix show, Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon REMIX, an original anime featuring alter egos of Ubisoft characters in a highly referential homage to the early 90s.

Cocoon Entwined vol. 5 by Yuriko Hara

In the miniature garden of Hoshimiya Girls Academy, the school uniforms are traditionally made from the hair of the students. There, the school prince and the queen of the dorm are trapped by the Lady of the Cocoon, who suddenly vanished from the academy one day. In the empty room, bereft of its master, the two girls meet…

Does it Count if You Lose Your Virginity to an Android? vol. 3 by Yakinikuteishoku

Workaholic Tsuda Akane is slowly learning the ins and outs—and ins and outs—of living with a sex android. She’s even begun to consider formally registering herself as Nadeshiko’s master. But when Akane’s childhood friend Jun arrives for a surprise visit, things rapidly spiral out of control! First, Jun declares that she’s loved Akane since they were kids. And before she can even react, Nadeshiko does the unthinkable and declares that she’s Akane’s fiancée!

The Executioner and Her Way of Life (manga) vol. 4 by Mato Sato, Ryo Mitsuya, and nilitsu

After putting a stop to Archbishop Orwell’s plans, Menou leaves Garm with Akari in tow, seeking a new way to kill the Otherworlder. In Libelle, the port city where one of the Four Major Human Errors is sealed, Menou and company are tasked with finding the origin of the “monstrine” drug circulating among the people. But as they look into their greatest suspect, Manon Libelle, Akari notices that their fates are gradually veering off course…

How Do We Relationship? (manga) vol. 10 by Tamifull

Miwa and Saeko broke up in part because they couldn’t meet halfway on their differing needs, so when their new relationships begin to show signs of turning rocky, they’re both determined to find a way to compromise. But discovering a happy medium is harder than they thought, especially when no one seems to be happy at all with how things are turning out.

Lullaby of the Dawn (manga) vol. 2 by Ichika Yuno

Elva is a battle shaman whose life is eroded bit by bit every time he drives back monsters that emerge from the black sea. Indignant when he sees this, a young boy named Alto is determined to find a cure and stay by Elva's side.

After 8 long years, Alto has become a fearless young man, though he hides his love deep inside. And despite only expecting to live for a few more years, Elva seems to be healing as he spends time by Alto's side.

The Red Thread (manga) vol. 2 by Lazysheep and Hibiko Haruyama

The more time Pharm and Dean spend together, hurrying to make up for lost time, the greater their feelings for one another grow. But now, even in the light of day, they begin to have flashbacks of scenes previously only seen in their dreams.

The Summer You Were There (manga) vol. 4 by Yuama

Shizuku is a shy high schooler who hardly talks to other people. Instead, she loses herself in writing, crafting a novel that she never intends to show anyone. But when her cute, popular classmate Kaori gets her hands on Shizuku’s manuscript, everything changes. Kaori suggests that, in order to give Shizuku material for her next book, the two of them should start dating! Can this mismatched pair create their own happily ever after?

Tokyo Babylon CLAMP Premium Collection (manga) vol. 2 by CLAMP

Subaru Sumeragi is a powerful onmyouji and the head of the Sumeragi clan. Accompanied by veterinarian Seishirou, Subaru tackles the case of a woman stuck in a strange coma at the hospital. Meanwhile, Hokuto comes to the rescue of a woman calling for help in the middle of Tokyo.

UNDEAD: Finding Love in the Zombie Apocalypse (manga) vol. 2 by Fumi Tsuyuhisa

Nineteen-year-old Hikaru Asahina lost everything the day the world ended. Everything, that is, except his childhood friend Ai Kosaka, who has always taken care of him. Now the two of them, along with other survivors, struggle to stay alive in a post-apocalyptic world filled with man-eating zombies.

And when Ai confesses to feeling something more for Hikaru, it changes everything. After all, the more precious someone is to you, the harder it is to lose them. In a world like theirs, is something like love even possible?

#lgbt manga #new releases #manga #queer manga

[katzenschlafs]

I Am Done Fighting My Depression

And I know that sounds like a declaration of giving in, that I'm going to just lie in bed til it all blows over, or maybe kill myself.

But that's not at all what I mean.

I mean: I'm done with the metaphor of "fighting." I'm done with the false binary that I'm either fighting or giving in. I'm done taking up arms against my own mind and body. I'm done trying to use violence and force to bring myself into alignment with what "should" be.

Last Thursday, my therapist and I talked about my diagnoses explicitly, something I have almost never gotten to do in therapy. I am still meeting criteria for Major Depressive Disorder. Almost every criterion, in fact. This was, somehow, a surprise to me. So surprising I started dissociating, and then cried the rest of the therapy session and a while after.

This morning, I struggled to get out of bed. It took me two and a half hours to convince myself, and it was bladder pressure more than mental pressure that finally convinced me. I fought my way out of bed. I fought my way into making breakfast. I fought my way into going for a walk in the last of the fading sunlight. I tried to fight my way into doing something with a friend, and by that point, the fight was too much, and the depression won, and I'm sitting here typing instead of seeing a movie with someone I care about.

But something interesting has been happening in the background all day.

The realization that fighting is exhausting. That at this point, the fight against the depression accounts for more of my exhaustion than the depression itself.

A few lines of Andrea Gibson poetry have been echoing in my head for hours:

Truce is a word made of velvet. Truce is a word made of velvet. Wear it everywhere you go.

It's the very end of a poem about chronic illness, called "How to Be Sick." And regardless of whether a given illness is usually classified as physical or mental, our culture treats all illness as an enemy to be fought and conquered. But the illness lives in our bodies and minds. When we fight an illness, so often we find that we are fighting only ourselves.

My depression is not a foreign entity slamming a battering ram into the fortress of my soul. My depression is my neurons, my hormones, my brain chemicals, my internal systems trying to find a way to survive a world that isn't built for me. My depression is made up of pieces that also make up who I am. To fight it is to fight myself.

I'm so tired of fighting myself.

My depression and the rest of me want the same thing: to survive and thrive. To protect me from harm. To enjoy my life. To carve out a little corner of the world where it's a little easier to be a human being.

It's just that my depression is running that program on software that doesn't match the world I live in. That mismatch is what makes it an illness.

I can try to fight it. I can try to hijack or hack it. I can try to live with it. I can try to let it run the show.

Or I can start to take care of it. Like it's just another member of my inner family system, another inner child or inner young adult who is doing their best with the tools they have.

This isn't my idea, really. It comes from a Thich Nhat Hanh essay about anger. He says he smiles to his anger and says "I will take good care of you."

I'm still figuring out how to take care of my emotions and my inner selves. I'm learning.

And I think taking care of my depression involves a lot of the same actions that I was already doing, just with a very different mindset. I used to go for a walk to fight my depression. I used to make breakfast to fight my depression. I used to spend time with friends to fight my depression (and because I genuinely want to see my friends, and "fuck you depression for making me feel like staying home").

I think I can still go for a walk and make breakfast and see friends. But I can't do those things with a sword in my hand anymore. I'm going to go for a walk to take care of my depression. If my depression says the world is stacked against me, I can say "sure, but the world can't stop me from taking care of us with a little exercise." If my depression says there's no point to doing the dishes, I can say "yes, there will be more dishes tomorrow, but we'll both feel a little better if we clean up a bit today."

I guess it's just compassionate reparenting. Apparently that's what I keep coming back around to.

It's hard to compassionately reparent an inner self you refuse to acknowledge or treat as real. It's hard to compassionately reparent an inner self that you are constantly "fighting" and trying to "overcome."

Compassionate reparenting is hard enough as it is. I don't want to make it even harder on myself.

My depression is not my enemy. It's a part of me that deserves love and care and compassion. The goal is not to make it go away. The goal is to transform it into something new. By loving it as it is. And by not having expectations about what it might become once it's been loved long enough and well enough to become whatever it was originally meant to be.

#cw suicide mention #depression #inner family systems #essay #reparenting #metaphor #illness #if i ever write a beauty and the beast retelling it's gonna be about this

[familylightfox]

Hours of time could be passed playing the guitar. It was something that Light had grown accustomed to while stuck within the small room in the barracks for the majority of his life.

Music was a way to escape the confines of the room, at least mentally.

Even now, when they had escaped from one room within the empire, it felt as if they had just entered another. The Freedom Fighter base wasn't the most welcoming place. Not when Sonic almost seemed hell-bent on antagonizing Gibbous for hours on end until she either retreated behind the former soldier's legs or became so upset that Light had to bring them back to their room so she could decompress.

His fingers plucked at the strings on his acoustic while singing quietly in the main gathering area.

As always it was after everyone else had taken to their respective rooms and the two bioprojects were free to move about. Gibbous had taken up a comfortable spot on the couch beside him as he played, curled up and rocking her head from side to side in time with whatever he played.

But it seemed that their peaceful moments would be broken as the toddler's head picked up. That lone footstep into the main room had caught her attention and the jade eyes peered into the darkened hallway with a low enough growl to get Light to stop playing.

"I'm still shocked someone like you was able to pick up an instrument and play it like a natural." A backhanded compliment, but at this point, the former was sure that it was the best he would ever get from the hedgehog.

"Unlike what some might say, bioprojects aren't any different from a natural born mobian. Before everything went to hell, it was recorded bioprojects were made for those who couldn't reproduce themselves." Mismatched eyes lifted, seeing the hero's hand reach for his head and sway on his feet. "But I guess that's a fact only a few are going to remember."

"Yeah, well that's not what they're used for anymore. Now you're all tools for Buttnik." Light rolled his eyes at the statement and set his guitar to the side. "Besides. The ones that had wanted one made at least gave consent."

"Shut up!" Both adults stopped in their tracks and Gibbous jumped off the couch to square up to the speedster while standing between him and her dah. Quills were raised and teeth were bared. "I didn't ask to be made. And I didn't ask to be made from you!" She took a step forward and Sonic instinctively took a step back. "If I would have had a choice. I would have Light be my dad any day over you. You've been nothing but an asshole to both of us even though daddy's trying to help."

"I..." The hero looked from the toddler to Light, as if the former soldier would say anything. He did not. At least not to anything Gibbous had said so far.

"You don't have to like us, but I would hope you might at least trust us that we're here to help you. To set things right again in the world." A pause. "Maybe the knowledge that the day you escaped from Robtonik's prison with your friends, I was the one who turned off the security systems."

Light left the words lingering in the air, taking his guitar in one hand and scooping Gibbous up with the other. They took their leave passed the hedgehog and went back to their room.

Leaving Sonic in the darkened room after they left. Standing there.

#journal page: queue #ic update: light & gibbous #reporting for duty: ic #lost light of hope: eggsoldier verse

[perrydowning]

One More Week in the Home the Downings Made

It’s strange to want to run as fast as I can away from New Orleans as well as feel such sadness at the prospect of leaving. But I know that sadness comes from looking back instead of forward. It would be terrifyingly easy to stay, stay, stay, in this place of mourning, leave all his things as he did, and live out my life slowly fading away. I am 100% the kind of drama queen to wander our home in a silk robe, touching everything, haunting my own house.

Though donating most of his clothing, selling the tools and materials of his projects unfinished or only ever dreamed of—letting go of any bit of it, really—is about as fun as you’d expect, it’s also revealed something surprising. That I need to move in a timely manner is saving me from myself.

It turns out I have far more agency in this than I thought possible. I feel myself choosing to fully embrace my grief, letting myself cry so hard I can’t breathe. Then washing my face and continuing the process of realizing I really don’t need 50 pairs of Mr. Downing’s mismatched socks to remember him. And it’s okay to give away his truly magnificent collection of shoes; someone should enjoy his rainbow wingtips. I can’t hug his shoes.

Though I worried I was rushing things by letting go of the majority of his objects, instead I’m so grateful I’m doing it. I mean, it’s completely soul-rending, but storing it to handle it later was never going to change that. Maybe that’s my current guiding principle: face it, Perry, take the body blows, because time won’t make it one bit easier. The only way out is through, as they say.

I’m letting go of nearly all of the furniture as I try not to think about how much we spent on brand new furnishings for our home only three years ago. Some items folks are purchasing, others are being donated. On the last day I’ll be in this house, Saturday, 9/17, we’ll have to throw away anything I can’t fit in the moving pod or dispense with. I can’t believe I’m hiring that hauling company from the show ‘Hoarders’.

One of my kitties is in a new home, another has a temporary placement, leaving me with Rey and Jot. I’m beginning to suspect that they might be road-trippin’ with me west, where I’ll continue to search for suitable caregivers. I’ve had them since they were kittens so all they’ve ever known is love and having appropriate staff. My heart cannot take the thought of them in cages, so even a no-kill shelter isn’t a possibility.

We’ll be driving along I-40, taking us through Albuquerque. The last time I drove this route back to California, the sunset there was the most vibrant I’ve ever seen. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to get another glimpse.

Every day I find a reason to laugh, and every night I fall asleep to good—soothing—memories of our life together. I’m finding my way.

I’ll write another update once I’m safely back in Palo Alto, California. Take good care, my friends.

#personal #travel mindens the broad

[runesandramblings]

"To The Ends of The Earth"

Word Count: TBD / ongoing

Content Warnings: none, follows the events from The Hobbit so there will be the expected violence from the movies

Pairings: KilixOC

Themes: crossover Marvel x Tolkien, romance, fanfic, canon-ish events

Summary:

In the wake of The Blip, the multi-verse has expanded knowledge of the universe in ways no one thought possible. For the first time, journeying between realms and realities is a tangible possibility.

Ex-SHIELD agent and Avenger, Lilith Lenore, is hiding from her past, shunning the life she once led. But when an offer from a wizard of another world is extended, she cannot refuse.

Chapter 2: A Proposition

I grimaced at my old colleague as I knelt down to pick up the knife. I slipped it back into its sheath and tugged my pant leg back down to cover it before standing to face Nick. He was still before me, his larger frame blocking the majority of the doorway between my bedroom and the rest of the apartment. 

"How did you find me?" I asked pointedly. 

I stepped around Nick and whipped my small backpack off, pulling the damp paper bag containing my dinner out of the pack and tossing it onto the ground beside the tattered couch in the same motion. I crossed the floor to the tiny kitchen, the space scarcely large enough for the round, ratty table and two mismatched chairs I'd procured from a thrift store. I pulled back one of the chairs on the side farthest from Nick and sat down, eyeing him skeptically. 

"My dinner is cold, thanks." I lamented, still eyeing him as I began to eat. 

Nick smiled wryly. 

"Apologies. But you changed your number, so I wasn't sure how to get in touch with you."

I gave him a disdainful look. 

"And you didn't take that as a hint?" I asked flatly.

Nick gave me a knowing look and crossed the room in my direction. He seated himself on the arm of the tattered loveseat in what was supposed to be the living room, if you could call it that. The loveseat was the only piece of furniture I'd acquired to fill the space so far. He took a look around at his surroundings before he spoke, taking in everything from the outdated kitchen, to the same faded, red walls in the living room that matched the bedroom. I felt an eyebrow involuntarily raise in skepticism. Had he not gotten a good look around while he was undoubtedly waiting for my return? I was sure he hadn't just gotten in when I made it home, knowing Nick's fondness for turning up unannounced. 

"You know you don't have to hide." He said finally. His tone was soft, apologetic. "Everyone who didn't sign the Accords were pardoned shortly after The Blip." 

I shrugged, keeping my eyes trained on the wrap in my hands rather than looking in his direction. 

"I'm not hiding." I said simply. 

He scoffed. 

"Oh really, Samantha? Isn't that it? Why hide your name if you aren't running from something?"

I shrugged again, still avoiding his piercing gaze. 

"Just because I'm laying low doesn't mean I'm hiding. I'm just retired." 

Nick shook his head. 

"Retired. Give me a break. Lilith, you're too damn special for that. You've done a hell of a lot for this planet, you know." 

I laid my dinner down on the bag and pushed it across the tabletop. Suddenly, my appetite was gone. I felt my stomach turning as the last decade came flying back into my mind. The good deeds I had done in service of the Avengers, sure. But there were also the not-so-good things I'd done before I was involved with SHIELD. And, regrettably, the things I'd done for SHIELD without knowing they were really HYRDA in disguise. The things I'd agreed to, not truly knowing the reality of the mission. The innocent targets. I could feel the sting of tears beginning in the corners of my eyes. 

"I never felt like much of a hero." I said quietly. 

Nick shook his head again as he shifted on the couch, undoubtedly debating standing up to offer comfort before deciding against it.

"That wasn't your fault." He said simply, his tone still soft, much more gentle than his usual mode of delivery. "None of us knew what SHIELD really was. You had no idea they were manipulating you to carry out their agenda-"

"You know it's more than that, Nick." I cut him off. I stood from my seat at the table and crossed the room to stand before him, keeping my distance as I rested against the wall directly across from the couch. "You know what I did before SHIELD. You know why they pardoned me, why they picked me. If you didn't know before Natasha released all of their intel into the world, you sure as hell know now." 

I shifted uncomfortably and stared down at the splintering floorboards beneath my feet. I never had a name, but SHIELD considered me the American rebuttal to the Winter Soldier. I was an assassin already when I came into their service, but when I was dosed with the serum I became lethal. Unless the target was another superhuman, most didn't stand a chance when I was locked onto them.

I finally looked up and met Nick's gaze. He was far from a gentle man, but he looked at me with a sympathetic softness that left a pang in the pit of my stomach. 

"I know, Lilith." He said quietly. "I know what you've done. But the good you've done and the lives you've saved have more than outweighed your past. I know you don't see yourself as a hero. But you're one of the good ones." 

I didn't acknowledge his response as I turned my gaze down to the floor once again.

"So." I started, digging the toe of my boot into a groove in the floorboards. "Why are you here?"

Nick laughed. It was another rarity for him. He seldom showed any kind of emotion, especially toward me. Our relationship had never been particularly cordial. 

"You still don't beat around the bush." He remarked, standing. He stepped closer to me, closing the gap between us by a few feet. "How much do you know about the idea of multiple universes...coexisting?" He started. 

I laughed dryly and shook my head. "Did you forget how we saved the world last time?" I scoffed. "I know a little bit. There are multiple versions of our reality that exist, or coexist I guess. I know its possible to travel between them or back in time..."

I froze, trailing off. For Nick to show up, out of the blue, asking me questions about the universe...it could only mean one thing. 

"No." I said flatly, pushing myself off of the wall. "Nick, I am retired-" 

"Whoa, now." Nick started, holding his hands up in surrender and stepping in front of me. "I haven't even explained yet." 

I frowned and stopped in my tracks, crossing my arms across my chest again. I looked up at Nick, as we were now about two feet apart.

"Well?" 

Nick rubbed the top of his head with his hands as he stepped backward, allowing himself to fall back to sit on the ragged couch once again. I stayed upright, arms still tensely crossed over my chest. 

"The Blip opened up a conversation many of us never thought possible." He started. "Travel between dimensions, between worlds... It's opened doors we never thought possible. Defeating Thanos was only the beginning." 

I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

"The Time Keepers are responsible for maintaining the timelines and realities of our universe. But, there are many other universes out there. Many worlds. And many keepers of those realities." He continued. "They might go by different names, they might call it different things, but there are many universes out there very similar to our own. And some of these universes, well, they don't have as much help as we do-"

"Get to the point, Nick." I said curtly, cutting him off. I was beginning to lose patience with the unexpected guest. I had lived a peaceful life for the past year, and entertaining the notion of another mission wasn't on my agenda for the evening.

"Well, we thought our universe could only be affected by realities within the same universe, but" He paused. "There are beings in some of these other universes that, with the right power, might be able to cross over. So even though we might think the problems in other realms aren't ours...they could become ours." 

I froze. I was vaguely familiar with the concept of timelines and travel between dimensions. But I had never stopped to consider worlds and realities beyond our own. The delicacies of the universe-the multiverse-whatever it was being called now, were complicated. 

"God, it never ends does it?" I groaned. I felt my back hit the wall as I slid down to sit on the floor.

Nick offered a sympathetic smile. 

"I don't fully understand it, to be honest. Long story short, Time Keepers from outside universes have opened to the door to request help from others, ours being one of them. And the Time Keepers of our universe want to lend that helping hand, if the events in these other realms could affect our own. There are a lot of realities out there, and ours is one of the best equipped to handle these...threats." 

"And? What does that have to do with me?" I questioned impatiently, prompting Nick to continue. 

"And, my dear" A tall, imposing figure clad in a gray suit stepped from around the corner, in the direction of my bedroom. "That is where I come in." 

I leapt to my feet again and removed my blade in one motion. I wasn't used to being startled in my own apartment, and this was twice in one day someone had gotten a drop on me.

"What the hell, Nick??" I questioned, gesturing to the graying, elderly man that had seemingly appeared from the bedroom I had just been in. Where had he even come from, especially without me hearing? 

Nick held out his hand to me, gesturing for peace, as the man in gray stepped confidently forward. He didn't seem rattled in the slightest by my reaction to his sudden appearance. On the contrary, he almost seemed to expect it. He offered me a kind smile and clasped his hands in front of his body. He was dressed in a light gray, three piece suit with matching, slightly darker gray loafers. The shades of gray on his clothes almost seemed to exactly match the gray of his beard and hair, both much longer than would seem normal for a man his age. His waist-length hair was slicked back into a neat, low ponytail. His beard, albeit a bit wild and wiry, was also neatly combed and clasped in the center with a small band. He had kind, knowing eyes that were a piercing shade of blue-gray.  A little too knowing, I thought. It felt as though he were staring straight through me, right into my soul. I shifted my gaze away as I bent over and slipped my knife back into its hiding spot once again. 

"It's nice to finally meet you, Lilith." The stranger said kindly. He had an accent I did not recognize. "Master Fury has told me a great deal about you."

I relaxed a bit, although still not fully trusting of the man that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. I wasn't overly fond of putting my trust in strangers, but I did somewhat trust Nick. At least enough to know he wouldn't intentionally put me in harms way.

"Nick hasn't told me a thing about you. You aren't from here, I take it." I said. 

The gray stranger shook his head. 

"I am not." He confirmed. "I come from a land we call Middle Earth." 

I glanced warily at Nick before returning my gaze to the elderly man. 

"Okay" I started, unsure of where the conversation was going to go. "I still don't really know what this has to do with me." 

The stranger's smile never faltered. There was an aura about him, a gentleness. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Despite my hesitance, I couldn't help but feel a certain safeness around him.

"They have a problem that they've requested our help with." Nick interjected, attempting to speed along the explanation. 

I leaned back to rest against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest again.

"Do I at least get a name before we get into this?" I questioned, gesturing towards the man. 

The stranger approached slowly and extended his hand toward me. I reached out hesitantly to grab it, sliding my hand into his much larger one. His skin was warm, and once again I felt a wave of peace wash over me. 

"My name is Gandalf." He said simply, giving my hand a light squeeze before releasing. "Where I come from I am what we call a wizard-"

"We have those here." I blurted, cutting him off. "Well, kind of." I shook my head, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. I wasn't one to usually ramble and yet I couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. "I'm sorry, you were saying?" 

He smiled again and continued.

"My world is home to many creatures, many of whom hold a similar power as I do. But as I'm sure is the same in your realm, not all creatures choose to wield this power for good." 

I nodded along silently, gesturing for him to continue. I felt a thousand questions threatening to spill over.

"Many years ago, elven lords created a number of rings. Rings of power, as it were. They were meant to be dispersed to the different races of Middle Earth to be used for good. They were shared between elves, dwarves, and men." 

"Okay," I nodded again, trying to wrap my head around the information I was being given. "I'm following." 

"Unfortunately, the rings were a trap. They were intended only to seduce the wearers to evil. A dark sorcerer was behind the rings, and he created a ring for himself as well. A very powerful ring, one that was intended to give him rule over all." Gandalf paused for a moment. "I apologize, I feel I'm beginning to ramble. The rings themselves are not of dire importance to the purpose of my request. This sorcerer was driven back and defeated, many years ago." He said hurriedly. "However, the threat of his return is ever present. There are still a number of dark creatures that are forever in his service and will do anything to see the return of their lord." 

Gandalf turned, glancing to where Nick was seated on the couch. 

"Would you mind?" He gestured to the open space beside Nick.

Nick shook his head as he shifted over. The wizard stepped over and settled himself onto the seat beside Nick. He rested his hands on the tops of his knees, as though he was wearied from a long trip.

"There are those in my realm who can gain a glimpse into the future. These seers are always watching for events that could allow a foothold for evil to return to Middle Earth. There is a quest I am soon to embark on that, if unsuccessful, could allow these dark creatures to wreak havoc on our land. We have many powerful weapons in our world but, given this new opportunity for help from other realms, we thought it might be beneficial."

I nodded, still slowly processing the information I'd just been given. Magical beings and otherworldly creatures were not new to me. The idea of time, or I guess in this instance inter-dimensional travel, was not new to me either. But this, a wizard from another realm, showing up in my home to ask for help...this was very new. Especially after the quiet life I had led for the past year. 

"Lilith?" Nick asked. 

I looked between Gandalf and Nick, realizing I'd been silent for several minutes. 

"Why me?" I asked quietly. I returning my gaze to the floor, avoiding Gandalf's piercing blue eyes. "I mean if you're looking for help from this world, we have actual gods at our disposal. We have real heroes, people who are much more powerful than I am. Why would you want my help?" 

Gandalf stood from the couch and stepped toward me again. He came to rest a couple of feet away from me. I could feel his gaze on me as I kept my eyes directed downward at the floor. 

"This is not a quest for brute strength and force." He started. "If we are to be successful, we need stealth, and wit, and cunning. There are more important things that make a hero." 

I looked up and met Gandalf's gaze. He was unlike anyone, human or not, I'd ever met. There was an aura about him of wisdom and purity. His kindness was radiant, and I felt an overwhelming sense of safety and trust in this stranger I barely knew.

"I have been told that you do not think yourself worthy of, well, anything." He started again. "Often the people who think the least of themselves are the ones with the most to offer. From what I have learned about you, Lilith, I believe you are exactly what I am looking for." He smiled warmly at me. "You are a skilled fighter. You speak your mind, for better or worse. I've heard you can break into any locked room. You're small, if I may be so bold to say. Probably not much larger than your traveling companions will be." He continued, with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "I think you'll fit right in."

I returned his smile, feeling somewhat at ease for the first time since I'd stepped into my apartment. Although I was not sure why, I knew that I would not refuse his offer. 

"So what do you say, my dear" Gandalf extended his hand toward me once again. "Are you up for an adventure?" 

#marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel crossover #marvel oc #the hobbit #marvel #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fic #lotr #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit crossover #kili durin #kili x oc #kili romance #kili fanfic