#someone buy me a sun lamp

[mountymase]

invisible string - part five

and if you ask me too daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird, i'ma give you the world

pairing: reader x mason mount summary: It’s been you and your daughter until life decides to prank you by putting her dad back into your life. The only problem is that he doesn’t know he’s her dad. warnings: fluff, angst, a bit of swearing author: SURPRISE!!! nothing to say other than thank you. i hope this will make you cry! also, tumblr didn't let me tag people, i'm sorry! word count: 4.378k

PART FOUR

Too nervous to drive, with your hands constantly shaking and your mind everywhere, you thought it was better to get an Uber home and leave your car at Jaz’s - for yours and, mostly, Lily’s safety. Trying to act normal around your daughter when she was such a sensitive kid was the toughest task, but she seemed convinced when you mentioned it was just a bad migraine, like the ones you usually had when you were worried about work. Instead of just asking loads of questions, Lily kissed your temple and held your hand the entire way home.

How would you tell her that she was to meet her daddy tonight? That, actually, she already knew who he was and called him ‘uncle’ because her bestie said she could, because he said she could. You digged your brain, trying to find the right words, as you watched Lily throw herself on the sofa and let out a long tired sigh. 

“Why don’t we change you into something more comfortable, peanut?” She nodded but closed her eyes instead of getting up. You made the short way towards her and took her in your arms, Lily half asleep. “Come on, gorgeous. Don’t sleep on me now, I need you wide awake for your surprise.”

Though that was usually the magic word, Lily’s reaction wasn’t what you expected.

“But I’m so tired, mummy. Summer made me run after her all the time at the Zoo,” She mumbled, brushing her eyes with the back of her hand as her head now rested on your shoulder. You walked into her bedroom, turning on just the lamp on the side of her bed. “Can’t you wake me up when it’s here?”

“I suppose I can.” You replied, watching her nod with her eyes closed as you put her in bed and grabbed a pair of flannel pyjamas so she’d sleep more comfortably. Lily had both arms tightly wrapped around her stuffed bunny and didn’t help much when you started to change her, to which you just sighed, wondering for how long you’d keep doing it as she was starting to get really heavy. But then, it hit you - there was someone else who could do that, now… Mason. After they meet, he starts to become a constant presence in both of your lives.

A smile curled the sides of your lips when you heard a little snore coming from Lily and you couldn’t help but softly kiss her cheek, but as the heavy sleeper she was, she didn’t move. Making your way out of her bedroom, leaving the door slightly open just in case she woke up looking for you, you went to the kitchen and searched for that almost empty bottle of red wine in the back of the fridge. Drinking straight from the bottle, you let out a long sigh as your phone buzzed with a few notifications, all from Mason. Two follower requests and a message. You chuckled when he questioned your dad being an Arsenal fan, that amused you enough to think how it’d be when you tell your dad that Lily’s father is a Chelsea player - it amused you even more the idea of them meeting because your entire family was die hard fans of Arsenal and even Lily’s first word was ‘goal’, during a match. You were on the other side, with your mum, who didn’t care much about football.

When the sun was down and you were already slightly tipsy - not drunk, though! -, you got a message from Mason saying he’d be there in about 40 minutes and it was right when Lily woke up and silently made her way to the kitchen, looking for you and asking for water. As the grown up girl she said she was, Lily refused her bottle and opted for a Moana cup instead. 

“Sweetheart,” You called her, big brown eyes looking at you as she gulped each sip as if it'd be her last. Taking her in your arms, you took Lily to the living room, sitting on the sofa with her on your leg. “Mummy needs to talk to you about something.”

Noticing your voice was serious despite the soft smile on your lips, Lily quickly asked if this was about her surprise and you just nodded. “It won’t be a surprise then, mummy.”

“It will, baby. But it’s a fantastic surprise.”

“Am I getting a puppy?” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Not yet, peanut. This is about something else you’ve been wishing for…”

Lily’s jaw dropped, brown eyes widened at you and you could swear there was a sparkle there you’ve never seen before. Next thing, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck and she hid her face on your chest, your shirt getting instantly wet with silent tears. Your arms cradled her, giving Lily the comfort she needed that moment and though your eyes also burned a little with tears, you could only smile.

“Is it my daddy? The surprise?” She looked at you again and you brushed her cheek with your thumb, wiping off her tears. She sniffed a few times, the back of her hand scratching her little nose. 

“He’ll be here in a bit to meet you.” 

“Mummy! I have to wear something pretty or he won’t like me!” She jumped off your lap and rushed to her bedroom as you followed, a loud laugh parting your lips.

“He’ll love you no matter what, baby girl!” Searching for something to wear, Lily let out repeated groans of frustration. Her face lit up when she found her Arsenal shirt but you quickly took it from her hands and tossed it aside. “Not this, love. He’s a Chelsea fan.”

Lily pouted, but quickly let go of the fact her dad was a Chelsea fan, and you wondered how she’d react knowing he was way more than just a fan and that she knew who he was, although she never made any funny comments about Summer’s uncle playing for a rival team, only that she still loved her best friend and that her family was kind, that she liked them. “Mummy,” Lily called you after opting for a mini Nike set of lavender sweatpants and hoodie that Willow got her a few months ago, changing it from her pyjamas herself, without any sort of help from you. Each day, she was growing more independent - much like you were at her age.

“Yes, baby?”

“Do you really think he’ll love me no matter what?”

Lily’s eyes sparkled in a way you’ve never seen before, they were full of expectations, happiness, hope; although her question came off nearly as a whisper, there was also excitement there. He really was everything she’s been wanting lately. Going to school holding his hand, having him picking her up and taking her to ballet, baking chocolate chip biscuits because they were her favourite and she hoped they were his too. You often heard Lily call him in her sleep - ‘daddy’, she repeated relentlessly, sometimes followed by a giggle and others by a soft cry that broke your heart into a billion tiny pieces. And you wanted him there too, you needed him there to watch her grow and educate Lily in a way she’d be the kindest and smartest woman you’ve ever met, and also the most successful. You knew that once Mason got to know her and see the wonderful kid she was, he’d want the exact same.

“There’s no way a person could not love you, whether it’s your daddy or any other.” Sitting on the floor, next to her, you took Lily in your arms and softly kissed the tip of her nose, making her giggle with her eyes closed. Once big brown eyes met yours again, you felt your chest clench with all the love you felt for that little girl and wondered how that love would extend to Mason now that he’d be part of your lives. Simply because she was just like him and it felt obvious that if you loved her, you loved him too. If not romantically, then for giving you Lily.

“What is his name?” You hoped she’d ask you that before his arrival. Holding her tight, you leaned a bit as you were about to tell her a secret.

“Mason.” You whispered in her ear, causing Lily to gasp almost instantly and cup your face with her hands.

“Mason and Maisie?” Nodding, you kissed her cheek, and watched your daughter grow silent this time. No giggles, no smile, just a frown on her face that you thought it could become permanent at how fast her mind was working now. “You said he’s a Chelsea fan, mummy?” You nodded again and, this time, your moment with Lily was interrupted by the bell ringing, an always discreet sound that now made you feel instantly anxious. 

“It’s him, baby. Let’s do this together?” Lily shook her head and you’ve decided to respect her space and time, allowing her to be wherever it felt most comfortable to meet her dad and if she wanted to wait in her bedroom, with all her toys and teddy bears, you’d let her. “I’ll pick up the door and bring him here then. Is that okay for you?”

“Yes, mummy.” She pulled away from you, rushing to pick up all the clothes that were spread on the floor as you walked out of her room and took large, quick steps towards the door.

Taking a deep breath before opening it, you found Mason standing there almost ready to ring the bell again and giving you a shy smile when your eyes met. His nose was pink from the cold outside and so were his cheeks, but from the anticipation of meeting his daughter. Mason’s hands were sweating, he constantly rubbed them in his hoodie, not trying to hide his anxiety. You liked that he wasn’t shy about showing off his emotions, it was important to you knowing how important this moment was for him. 

“Come in, Mason. She’s been waiting for you.”

“She knows?” He walked in when you gave him space and after quickly scanning your living room without you noticing, he watched you close the door behind you.

“Yes and no. I told her you were coming and she was about to connect the dots about who you are when you rang the bell. I think that’s what she’s probably doing now.” You knew that because you could hear the familiar sound of tiny footsteps quickly pacing around coming from Lily’s room. Part of you couldn’t help but let a grin curl the sides of your lips, Mason watching you curiously, but apparently getting the fun of it; of how Lily was so smart for her age, a mini adult, always observing around and capturing every little detail so she’d never be left behind by absolutely nobody - not even her own mother. You didn’t know if Mason was like that too, but you secretly hoped that he wasn’t so Lily would have at least that in common with you.

In her room, Lily walked in perfect circles, her mind and heart racing as she held her teddy bear as tight as she could against her small frame. A desperate attempt of trying to control the unfamiliar feelings that suddenly weighed so much on her little shoulders. She was finally meeting her dad. She could remember every night she whispered for him, hoping that the love she felt for him - even not knowing who he was - would, somehow, reach him and bring him to her. The greatest gift she could ever ask for, even better than when her fish Moana came home for Christmas. Lily hoped he would love her just as much, that he’d find her pretty and loved the sound of her laugh because she loved his smile too, the first time they met.

Lily knew it was no coincidence - his smile was just like hers, she recognised herself on that man who was smiling at her, on the other side of the screen.

Mason and Maisie.

There was a knot forming on her throat when Lily finally decided to sit on her bed, anxiously waiting, a sniff filling the quiet room when she heard her daddy’s voice. It really was him, she knew his voice from when they FaceTimed. Lily quickly wiped her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie before they could fall, she didn’t want her daddy to see her crying. Hoping he’d be just as happy to meet her for the first time, Lily wanted to open the biggest smile in the world for him and tell him how much she missed him everyday even if they’d just met.

The sound of soft and slow steps getting close to her bedroom woke her up, and if it was any possible, she held the teddy bear against her body even tighter. Her mind now raced on what she’d say first and although she didn’t know, on the other side of the door, Mason felt just the same. He was taken by anxious, hopeful and also uncertain feelings. The only image he had of her was that adorable giggle she gave him, and how her nose scrunched a bit when she smiled, and her eyes closed in pure innocent bliss. She had his dimples, too. 

Now, every detail about Lily that went almost unnoticed at first, were back in Mason’s mind and if anyone asked, he’d describe her perfectly. Bottom nose and all - because she was pretty much just like him and Mason found himself amazed by that. The sudden urge to take Lily in his arms and tell her he’d never leave her side took his entire being, he just wanted to burst into that room and try to understand what was all that he was suddenly feeling. 

Mason watched you giving him a soft, reassuring smile before opening the door. He wanted to stretch his neck and peek inside, but he didn’t want to creep the little girl out, so he just waited both patiently and impatiently, watching you open the door enough you could see Lily and she could see you too.

“Hi mummy,” That soft, warm voice made him instantly smile. His chest clenched, and Mason unconsciously grabbed your pinky with his again.

“Hi peanut. There’s someone here I know you’ve been wanting to meet for a while. Can we come in?” 

He deduced Lily said yes with a nod, because you were now leading him inside the room. Finally, you moved to the side, giving him the perfect vision of that tiny human watching him with her two big brown orbs with curiosity and amazement. Lily beamed at him shyly, her little legs anxiously wiggling, breathing becoming now faster but at a pace that didn’t worry you because you knew all she wanted to do was jump from her bed straight to his arms. You only noticed tears now were falling freely down your cheeks when your vision blurred and you had to wipe them with the back of your hands as you watched Mason slowly approach Lily.

You could feel it - those two being pulled towards each other like magnets, four years of being apart, something always missing but Mason not knowing what it was while his daughter called him every night before falling asleep. You watched him kneeling in front of your daughter, stretch out his hands so she could place hers on his - as she did, finally letting go of the teddy bear - and softly squeeze them as his thumbs brushed his daughter’s hands.

Mason took a long, deep breath, and finally opened a wide smile. The one that made his nose scrunch, and Lily mimicked him. “Your mum said you wanted to meet me, but did you know I couldn’t wait to meet you too?”

Lily’s jaw dropped in amazement, as if he had just told her a big secret, and she let out a giggle. “Do you promise?”

“I do, princess. She told me you’re very smart and funny, and that your laugh is the greatest sound in the world but I already knew that.” Still holding her hands, Mason tickled her ribs, making Lily let out a loud laugh. “There it is.”

Wrapping your arms around your body, you swallowed a sob.

“Can I-” Lily lowered her gaze to Mason’s hand still holding hers and, after a soft squeeze of encouragement from him, she looked at him again. “Can I hug you?”

Mason nodded, still smiling, letting go of her hands and opening his arms so he could nestle her in a long awaited hug. He had to hold himself on her bed when Lily threw herself into his arms, tiny hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie so tight she pulled it against her body - hiding her face on the crook of his neck, Mason felt his skin getting warm and wet from tears Lily wanted to hide. He rubbed her back, up and down, and the other hand cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft her dark brown hair was under his touch. If there was anything missing in his life before, there wasn’t now, because he instantly knew that Lily was the missing piece.

“Shh, no need to cry. I’m never leaving.” With flushed cheeks and puffy, teary eyes, Lily finally looked at him when he said the words she’s been longing to hear. She felt safe in her daddy’s arms and although she wanted to say it, say the word, Lily was shy to do it because in her mind he was her daddy but also Summer’s cool uncle. 

“My cousin.” Lily whispered, watching Mason frown. “Summer!!”

This time, Mason chuckled. He didn’t say anything, just nodded, and pulled Lily on a tight hug again. The little girl finally looked at her mummy, not sure how she felt about seeing you cry so much because she knew you weren’t sad, so she shouldn’t be sad too but your tears bothered her.

“Mummy,” She called you, stretching her arm at you so you could hold her hand. In the blink of an eye, you found yourself sitting on the floor, next to Mason. “Don’t cry. He said he’s never leaving.”

“I know, baby.” You cooed, pressing soft kisses on her hand, the smell of baby cologne and the warmth of her soft skin instantly calming your fast heartbeat. 

Mason finally looked at you, but you couldn’t figure out how he felt about you at this moment and although it bothered you a bit, it also didn’t matter because it was all about how Lily felt, and how much his presence would positively impact on her life. 

It took some time for Lily to pull away from Mason, and you all agreed that moving to the living room would be more comfortable. With Lily still in his arms, Mason carried her as you followed, until you were comfortably sitting on the sofa. 

Mason wanted to know everything about her, from her. He asked about her days at school, at ballet, asked what her favourite movie was and if she liked super heroes - Spider Man, to be more specific, to which Lily replied that although she did like it, it wasn’t as much as her mummy did. He also asked what her favourite food was, and Maisie was quick to ask if he liked chocolate chip biscuits because those were her favourites in the world. They learned that both shared a passion for spag bol, and Mason seemed to be amused by the fact that his own kid played football at school. Lily made him promise he’d play with her, someday. 

She danced around the living room when pizza arrived and you couldn’t ignore how Mason’s eyes sparkled as he watched her with a wide smile spread across his lips; he was loving every bit of the night, not holding back every loud laugh at Lily’s witty and sassy personality. You wanted to hit your head against the wall when you noticed that even the way they chewed the food was similar, how they just switched off and focused on eating, humming softly at every bite. 

Mason offered himself to be in charge of the dishes as you prepared the living room for a late night Moana session, after Lily practically begged him to stay a little longer, almost threatening to cry thinking she’d never see him again, although Mason was constantly reassuring her - and you  - that he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’d never let Lily go too. That was going to be the hard part of him being in her life, now. She’d want him constantly around, for everything, and you couldn’t blame your daughter, especially because you also wanted him around for her and whatever she needed from him. 

Much to your surprise, Lily managed to stay awake for the first 30 minutes of the movie, but you noticed how sleepy she was, constantly blinking and yawning, fighting against it and eyes never moving from Mason. She checked him constantly and, as he nestled her in his arms, her hands were back gripping his hoodie. Again, you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to let him go - as far as you could remember, Mason radiated this comforting warmth as he was the sun. Sitting close enough to him, you could swear that it was him also keeping you warm. 

“Masey,” She called him, and the look of pure adoration he gave her - not mad at all that she wasn’t comfortable yet calling him ‘daddy’ - made you sigh in pure bliss. “Mummy makes the best pancakes.”

Mason raised an eyebrow at her, a soft grin playing on his lips when he quickly glanced at you, making your cheeks blush a little. “Does she, really?”

“Mhmm…” Lily nodded, yawning before continuing with her logic. “Can you come for breakfast?”

“I suppose I can, beautiful.” He was quick to give her the answer she wanted, and you knew he’d do anything for that girl. Mason would spoil her, do all of her wishes and she wouldn’t even have to ask - it felt like he’d always be one step ahead. He’d give her the world. 

With the answer she wanted, Lily felt safe enough to give in and sleep take her to dreamland, even if reality felt much better. She’d dream about it - about her dream coming true. You and Mason shared a laugh when Lily let out a sigh followed by a hum and a low, soft snore that was getting louder as she breathed heavily.

“She didn’t get that from me.” You whispered, and it was Mason’s turn to blush. “Can you take her to bed?”

“Absolutely.”

The way he carefully stood up still holding her warmed your entire being, your heart pounding so hard against your chest that you could almost hear it. That was something you’ve always wanted to see, it just made you feel sad that he wasn’t around when she was a baby too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You should’ve tried harder, should’ve made him listen even if he behaved like an idiot that day. 

Watching him carefully put Lily in bed, cover her and kiss her forehead before leaving her bedroom, your eyes burned with tears as you waited in the hallway, your body leaning against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, forcing yourself to swallow the knot that formed on your throat. “I’m sorry for keeping her away from you, all these years.”

“It doesn’t matter, Y/n.” Mason sighed, hands in his pockets as he mimicked you and leaned on the wall in front of you. “What matters is that I’m here now, and that I’m not leaving. I’m here for her and for you, too.”

“For me?” You raised an eyebrow, watching Mason shrug with a nod.

“You’re her mum, we’ll always be in each other’s lives. I’ll look after you too.”

“I’ll look after you too, then.”

Mason seemed content with your answer. For him, there was no point bringing back the past because it wouldn’t be good for anyone, especially not for Lily - if you two were on good terms, she’d always be happy and her happiness was what truly mattered. He’d find a way to tell his parents as smoothly as possible, his friends, his teammates and the fans, eventually, always respecting yours and Lily’s privacy so it’d be a calm transition from the life you all had to the life that included Lily in every situation of his, and the attention the media would give to Mason Mount being the father of a four year old and how it’d turn things upside down.

“It’s too late for you to drive home, Mason. We have a spare room.” You pointed to the closed door on his left. “Stay for early morning pancakes.”

It indeed was too late and Mason could feel his eyelids getting heavier by each second. He nodded, covering his mouth when a yawn parted his lips. “You don’t have to insist, I accept the invitation.” 

“Good”. You chuckled. “You’ll find clean towels in the closet if you want to shower, and clean clothes too. I had some friends over a few weekends ago and they just left their stuff here.”

You watched Mason nod and pull away from the wall, arms stretching in front of his body, letting out all the tension from today’s events. Suddenly, the awkwardness of not knowing what to say nor do weighed a ton between you; Mason watched you curiously, and you could swear there was a hint of a smile curling his lips.

“She’s perfect, you’ve been doing the most fantastic job raising this girl.” His cheeks blushed a little and so did yours, you cleared your throat, hands nervously touching your hair. Mason took one step forward, enough to end the short distance between you, and that made your heart pound against your chest. His body towered yours, making the most intense shiver run through your body - Mason leaned a bit, the softness of his warm and wet lips pressing against your cheek made you gulp. “Good night, Y/n.” He whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x reader #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff #invisble string series

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six

TW: violence, choking, mentions of bdsm, abuse of authority, cops, unfair power dynamics, harassment, body fluids and drug use mentions, mentions of harm/accidents

For California, it’s a bit chilly out this morning. The sun is getting a lazy late start, just beginning to yawn golden orange and fiery yellow over the horizon. Julian’s hair in that light is the high shine of fashion magazine model locs, and you’re, as usual, opening your mouth before you think. “What shampoo and conditioner do you use?”

He seems thoroughly amused. “Honestly? You’re going to be mad about it.” 

“Try me,” you prod, slipping inside his little sports car that smells like lemon air freshener and coffee. 

He seems a little cramped in the seat, knees bent up and head almost touching the ceiling, and you wonder if he actually even tried to get into this thing before buying it. 

“It’s a rental,” he explains.

“Did you get into an accident?”

“A truck hit mine while it was parked.” 

“How are you so calm about that? I’d punch someone.” 

He looks over at you with a sculpted, raised brow. “I just cannot imagine you hurting a fly, y/n.” 

“Flies are innocent, truck drivers are free game.” 

He gives you a big laugh that strokes the flame of your ego. “You’re hilarious. I use men’s body wash.” 

“What?” Okay, he’s right, you are a little mad. You use shampoo and conditioner that are specifically supposed to soften your hair, but the poof on your head absolutely pales in comparison to his soft, beautiful mane that gets the luxury of … what? Old spice? Axe body wash? 

“I told you,” he sings, turning on the engine. 

Genetics is a bitch. 

He takes you to a fancy little French inspired coffee shop cuddled into the center of an outlet mall with salt lamps and big ferns and comfy chairs. You settle into a nook closests to the sunned windows so Julian can keep an eye on his rental, which is understandable. No part of LA is good to have a Porsche in, but especially not the inner city. 

“This is delicious,” you tell him through a mouthful of warm croissant, covering your lips in embarrassment when you realize that your table manners are less than adequately prepared for a date with a doctor. 

“They have the best coffee,” he agrees, taking a sip of his steaming latte. 

You don’t have time to stop your brain from comparing Julian to a certain cop you know who prefers his coffee black and bitter, or at least that’s what he told you when he saw you drinking your vanilla cream cold foam at the nurse’s station. 

Julian is talking, you think, and you’re only half listening while you remember how Tom had snatched that drink right out of your hands and held it up in the air. 

“Give it back!” You hissed, reaching up on tiptoes while he laughed at the pathetic rescue attempt. 

“Careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself for this pathetic excuse of caffeine. What is it anyway? Is there even coffee in here?” 

After he walked away with his discharge paperwork, your coworkers were understandably curious about the tall, puckish cop who fucked with you any chance he got. 

Miguel watched his ass move the whole way down the hallway and out the glass exit doors while literally clutching the rosary under his scrub shirt as if a devil had just walked by, then looked over at you. “What a man.”

“Are you alright?” Julian asks, bringing you back to the present conversation with a hand over your forearm. He does seem concerned, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit. This guy is a gentleman and here you are on a date with him fantasizing about the brute that is Tom Ludlow. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “Tell me about you, Julian. What do you do for fun? Doctor-by-night, Violin-player-by-morning? 

He chuckles. “Nothing that cultured. I like riding motorcycles.”

“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised and trying to imagine Julian in a gang of bikers with cracked leather skull and snake jackets. 

“I love them.” He nods. “I have three that I take for long rides along the coast. You get lost in it, the wind and salt and sand. The rumble of the engine under you.”

“I’ve never been on one,” you tell him, “and I’m honestly surprised you ride them after what we see in the ER. Don’t you remember that guy that had his calf hanging on by a tendon? Or that woman who had half her face missing?” 

“Yes, I do. But I go the speed limit and wear the proper gear. And I like the thrill.” 

It’s not just the casual t-shirt and worn jeans or the way the light halos his thick silk nest of hair or the roguish grin that makes you see Julian in an entirely new way, now. “You’re wild, Dr. Mercer.”

He licks spilled cream at the ridge of his coffee cup, rubs at the skin of your forearm with his fingers, and winks. You wonder what he would look like between your legs doing the same thing, except with your fingers gripping that luscious hair. 

“You should let me take you for a ride, sometime,” he suggests, and for a minute you forget you’re talking about motorcycles. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Julian.”

“C’mon.” He nudges your knee under the table and relaxes back into his seat, now reminding you too much of someone else you know. Same height, same hair color, same facial structure. 

Fuck. Really? 

“Good boyfriends take their girlfriends on long, romantic motorcycle rides.” 

“But you’re not my boyfriend.”

His smile droops a little bit and it makes you feel bad for being so illiterately ignorant. Well, you feel bad until he opens his mouth. “I am, though.”

He paints it playful, but it sounds a little bit pushy-bossy, even. “I don’t know about that, either, Julian.”

He tries a different angle. “You know, believe it or not, most women would consider me quite the catch.” 

You hope your face doesn’t betray the little bit of ick you get from him saying something so egotistical. “I don’t doubt it, and you deserve someone that can give you what you’re looking for.” 

“You think you can’t give me what I’m looking for?” He leans across the table in sudden intensity, and you balk at the notion. 

“No, I honestly don’t.”

“Why?”

You start to say something, but he cuts you off. “And, I really mean why? Why can’t you give me what I’m looking for? Enlighten me.” 

“I’m not-I have too much baggage.” You unconsciously lean away from his swelling intensity. 

“That’s a little vague.” He frowns. 

“I’m not normal, Julian. You seem like you would like normal women.” You cringe at the childish sentiment, but truly have no idea how to get the point across except for basically telling him that you’re a freak with a bad past and worse coping mechanisms. You eat slices of bread for dinner and drink out of the milk carton. Julian probably irons his shirts. This will not work. 

“You’re assuming I’m normal?”

“Yes. I guess I am.” You lean back and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Well, I’m not. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.” He takes out his wallet, pulls a laminated card from it, and slides it over the table to you. 

“What..” It’s a little red card framed in black with big bold letters on the front advertising a BDSM club in the heart of downtown Venice. “What is this?” 

“BDSM is bondage, domination-“

“I know what that is,” you interrupt. “I just meant.. You go here?”

“I do.” He nods and takes a drink. “I occasionally engage in scenes.”

You decide that you should coat your suddenly very dry mouth and drink a big gulp of your coffee. “Like with a dominatrix?”

He laughs at you, puts his head in his hand and shakes his head. “No. I prefer to be the dominant one.” 

You look at-really, really look at this man for the first time and honestly cannot imagine him taking that role. 

He must see the confusion on your face, because his laughter grows. “That’s the usual reaction I get.”

Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the-you know what, fuck it. 

“So, what do you do at the club?” 

“A typical play scene, you mean?” How in the hell he can be so casual and relaxed about this you’re not sure. Because you can already feel the cold sweat breaking along your shoulders and neck. 

“I guess? Yeah.”

“Well, ideally the woman is tied up in some fashion, and of course there’s a safe word, negotiated limits. Perhaps a punishment scenario with pain play. Are you okay?” 

He looks at your table-clutching, white knuckled hands, searches your face, giving you a genuine concerned expression that makes you wonder what actually is going on with you right now. You feel like you're on a tightrope over a ravine of crocodiles and Julian’s on the other end lazily sawing at the rope with dull scissors.

“I’m fine,” you say breathily, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about all that.”

His gentle smile is nothing less than kind, though maybe also, a little disappointed. “I get that a lot too.”

“Is that…the only way you enjoy sex?” you ask quietly, leery of the blue-haired old lady just two tables away.

“No,” he seems happy to tell you. “Though it is…the way I enjoy sex most.”

You blink, digesting this with understandable trepidation. He’s basically telling you that it would be impossible to be in a relationship with him without dipping into this eventually. And you…? 

Are definitely intrigued, and you’re not really sure why.

“You said you have baggage,” Julien probes cautiously. You can feel him looking at you, but you’re not quite up to eye contact with him yet. You fix your gaze out the window. “Well, I do too. I haven’t had a perfect life. No one does, and I’m not interested in a perfect girlfriend. I like you, y/n.”

You feel your breath go out in an audible whoosh. It actually makes him smile-you feel it like rays of the sun. How can this man be so warm, and yet have such a dark side?

Well, maybe it’s not a dark side, you reason. Maybe it’s just…a thing he likes, and between consenting adults, what’s the harm?

“So…” You can’t help but think about how odd this is, discussing this in this coffee shop filled with mild-mannered caffeine addicts. What you really want to ask, is what happened to him that makes him like this kind of sexual play, but you know it would be too far, and you damn well don’t feel like talking about your own fucked up past. But there is something you do feel you have a right to know. “Is this something you want to do to me?” 

Again, he fixes you with that bad boy smirk that gives you chills and utterly ruins your panties. “Since the moment you stood up to me over that patient,” he admits. And maybe that should alarm you, that he wants to tie you up and hurt you for being defiant about something that deserved defiance. It does alarm you, but… It also… It sounds a little thrilling. “In fact-“

Julian and the rest of the world and even your own thoughts disappear when you meet a pair of familiar, sun tinted eyes out the window of the coffee shop. He’s grinning-when is he not grinning at you like he knows what it does to your helpless insides?-and licking his fingers, tearing off a yellow parking ticket to slap it under the windshield of Julian’s rental.

“Uh, Julian-“ 

“Just let me finish,” Julian insists. His bossy tone irritates you, but Tom brightens the mood by making a jerking off motion towards the doctor, and then winking at you. 

You can’t help but laugh. It’s honestly involuntary, the loud wheeze that tears from your chest and makes Julian look outside to see the yellow ticket shining under his wiper as Ludlow’s ass saunters away. 

You’re not sure what Julian’s plan is when he storms outside to catch Ludlow by the arm, but you’re definitely following ten strides behind to prevent his untimely death. 

“I’m parked legally.” His voice is a menacing growl instead of the smooth honey you’re used to, and yeah, maybe now you can see a little bit of that Dominant Persona he was talking about. 

“Not after 9AM,” Tom says, unbothered by Julian’s anger, still grinning like an idiot. 

“It’s eight-thirty,” Julian argues, tugging on Tom’s sleeve-that earns him a bent back arm and even the appearance of handcuffs. 

“Tom, stop it, fucking really?” 

“Sorry, honey, your boyfriend’s going to jail.” 

“For what?!” You and Julian both demand at once. 

“Putting his pristine fucking hands on what’s mine.” Tom tugs Julian up on his toes and clicks one handcuff into place. 

You hope he means his uniform, but you have a feeling he doesn’t. 

“That’s way too tight and you know it,” Julian grunts. 

“What, someone likes to dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be a bitch,” Tom muses, grabbing Julian’s other arm and twisting it-not gently-behind his back. 

“Tom, you fucking dickhead.” 

He looks at you as he’s putting the other cuff on your date. “Oh, I’ll deal with you later.” His grin looks more like a snarl at this point, and you think that Julian could probably take some pretty good Dom pointers from Tom, because your heart is galloping and your clit is pulsing despite the absolute absurdity of the situation. Also-it's a miracle-your sassing mouth has snapped shut. 

After Officer Ludlow practically throws Dr. Mercer into the back of his Charger, slamming the door, he turns to you with a smirk and his thumb in his belt. Goddammit, if that fucking look doesn’t go straight to your lady parts.

“Tom…you cannot do this.” 

A tow truck has pulled up, and is in process of impounding the sweet little Porsche.

He steps up to you in those big black boots that make him a mile tall.

“You’d be surprised what I can and cannot do, sweetheart.”

“Please.” You hate how desperate you know you sound. 

He taps his chin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. But it would be a lot more convincing if you got on your knees and said it.”

“You asshole,” you seethe, even as you can feel the moisture pooling between your legs.

“That kinda language definitely isn’t going to get Doctor Bitch Boy out of my car.”

“What the fuck do you want then?” You know it was a stupid question the moment it flies from your mouth. He’s going to reply with something filthy, and demeaning, and-

“Have dinner with me.”

You’re going to need another tow truck just to get your jaw up off the ground. 

“You’re going to get in trouble for this,” you say. “This isn’t harassing a lowly broke-ass nurse. He is going to sue the shit out of you.”

Tom just snorts at that, unimpressed. “Did you know your friend likes to hang out at a BDSM club in Venice Beach? Whips and chains and shit? Bet this asshole has mommy issues from here to Pasadena. Come on, y/n, you don’t need that in your life.”

It almost sounds like he’s…worried about you?

Officer Ludlow has no idea how badly he’s misjudged you, now that he’s pissed you off. “Maybe I like it,” you snipe back, stretching up so you’re almost in his face. “Fact is, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Ludlow just narrows his eyes down at you, those dark orbs glinting like sharp obsidian. “Well, sorry, guess he’s not tying you up tonight, baby. He’s gotta cool down in the tank.”

He makes to go, but you reach out, not grabbing him, per se, but just touching his chest. He freezes, and you can practically feel him vibrating beneath your hand. With excitement, because he fucking lives for being an asshole, or…you hate to think you know the real answer.

His mitt of a hand covers yours, holding it just above his heart.

“Tom….” Caught up in this tension between you, you’re not even sure what you’re asking now. 

You expect him to say something dirty, or snide, but instead you swear that just for a moment, his gaze softens as he looks down at you. “Dinner?” he asks again, with a note of hope in his voice that is almost endearing, if he wasn’t being such a class A jerk.

“I can’t.”

His demeanor changes in less than a second, drawing up to his full height, his shoulders squared. He flicks down his sunglasses that were on his head, so you can no longer even see his eyes. His voice changes, drops an octave, something. The authority in it makes you shudder inside. “Wave to Dr. Bitch Boy, y/n, we’re going for a little ride.”

Before you can grab him, or do anything, really, Tom is behind the wheel, speeding off with a very pissed off Julian in the back seat.

Your heart drops to your feet as you are left standing there alone on the sidewalk without a ride, and completely at a loss as to what to do.

***

“I’m going to fucking sue you,” Julian grits, kicking the back of Tom’s seat for good measure. 

“Yeah, yeah, with your doctor money,” Tom grumbles, taking a big swig of coffee with one hand and steering recklessly with the other because it’s fun to watch that skinny fuck bounce around helplessly in the seat. 

“I’m not getting booked tonight, Officer Ludlow. I’m calling my fucking lawyer.”

“Sorry, Doctor Bitch, your Lawyer’s busy until tomorrow afternoon, didn’t you hear?”

“You son of a-“

Tom gasses the car over a big pothole and it sends Julian flying into the opposite door. It’s a sight he could almost get off to.

Julian, big goose egg swelling up on his temple, gets yanked out of the squad car and tossed on the shit smeared, needle peppered streets of South Central. “They probably need you here more than the hospital, Doctor. Have fun–”

“Wait! Fuck. I’m still cuffed for fuck’s sake!” Tom gives the little guy credit for being able to get up on his feet so fast with his hands behind his back and a probable minor concussion. “You can’t leave me here.”

Tom pauses with his hand on the lip of the hot car door, but only to memorize the sight of a sweat-stained, wild eyed, trembling distinguished doctor about to get his shit wrecked on the mean LA Streets. He’s guessing Julian’s never visited much outside of Hollywood, Venice, and Santa Monica, and the cute little horrified expression on his face is testament to that. 

Tom taps the hood of his car. “See ya, Doc.” 

“You know,” Julian says, “this isn’t going to stop me from seeing her, Tom.” 

Well, if he wants a fight. 

Tom slams the charger door, whips off his belt, backs Julian up until he falls on his ass into a steaming puddle of unknown origin, and loops the leather around his neck. 

He tugs him up by the belt, onto his toes, eliminating that fraction of height difference just so he can see the whites of this prick’s eyes. 

He doubles the wrap of the belt in his fist, and Julian sputters something unintelligible through a thick choke. 

“What’s wrong? Thought you liked this shit?” Tom pretends to wait for an answer that he prevents. “Oh, that’s right, you like being the one doing the choking. That gets your dick wet, huh? Beating on women?” 

He wants nothing more than to choke this fucker unconscious and leave him on the streets for the hepatitis rats to chew on his toes, and, fuck it, if he ends up passing out by the time Tom’s done saying his peace, then so be it. 

“You can see her all you want, asshole. Take her on as many dates as you like. But if I see one fuckin’ bruise on her-one red mark on that pretty skin-I’m gonna make the rest of your short life very fucking unpleasant. Comprende?” 

#tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

[writers-potion]

DECIDE 'HOW'

Decide how they went bind. Was it a disease or an accident? If it was a disease, you need to determine what it was. The disease you choose will affect your character's vision in a specific way.

Macular degeneration and retinitis pigmentosa will create two very different changes to vision. Get very specific with research.

If it was an accident, you need to get very specific about the details of that accident and research whether what you're suggesting is actually possible.

A head trauma might create a tear in the retina which would certainly affect vision, but retina tears are actually fixable through surgery in most cases (not all, but most).

A chemical burn would damage the layers of the eye enough to cause blindness, but you need to be specific on what chemical it was, way type of burn it might cause, and how badly it would affect the skin surrounding the eyes.

Going the trauma/accident route is very easy to mess up and prone to being melodramatic. Choose well!

WHAT THEY SEE

Using what you've researched, decide exactly what your character sees.

Be very specific. Keep in mind that 90% of blind people at least have some remaining vision, even if it's very little.

It might be shadow and light perception, so they see more outside in the sun than they do at night. They can still be light sensitive if they have light perception.

They might see shadows moving in front of a light source, but see almost nothing at night. They may only see the light source (like lamp or headlights) and see darkness everywhere else.

Your character might have color vision still, or some vision acuity that allows them to distinguish some shapes from others but still prevents from seeing details.

Your character might have terrible depth perception, and this makes stairs and curbs impossible to perceive and they might knock something over because they perceived it as being farther away than it was, or feel frustrated when they reach for something they though was a few feet in front of them and is actually closer to ten feet away.

See the World From Their POV

Put yourself in every scene or location your character will be in and determine what they can see in the moment. Even if you are narrating from a different character's perspective, you need to know.

Using this, you need to know what your character knows, especially if your blind character is important to the plot. They can't see the small print on that sign, the dried bit of blood on someone's shoes, a shadow sinking into an alley, or even if that blurry blob twenty feet away is a trashcan or a person.

Make It Resonable

If your character is meant to be uncovering these clues, you need to find a reasonable way for them to figure it out.

Is there a sighted companion who points visual clues out to the blind partner? Do they have magnifiers to read small print?

Are they good at sneaking around and overhearing people from a distance? Are they just great and knowing when someone's lying by the tone of their voice?

Are they working with a team?

They don't necessarily have to have "superpowers" to figure things out!

The Narrative Voice

1st Person

This allows readers to inhabit the character and see what they see, or don't see.

You have to work in terms of what your character can/cannot perceive, which can make description hard and can easily slip up and forget that your character can't see that street sign.

3rd Person

Your readers will probably forget how blind your character is if they read pages and pages with great visual description and then be surprised when your character verbally remarks that they didn't see X and Y.

You still have to work with what they can realistically see and it's much easier to forget in 3rd person

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee! ☕

Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

#writer #writers #creative writing #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #creative writers #writing inspiration #writeblr #writing tips #writers corner #writers community #poets and writers #writing advice #writing resources #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #helping writers #writing help #writing tips and tricks #how to write #writing life #let's write #resources for writers #references for writers #writing prompt #on writing #writerscommunity #writers block #writerscreed

[familyvideostevie]

summer's early sway

thank you for voting in this poll! here is remus taking you to a craft fair and calling you his girlfriend for the first time xo | fluff, early relationship, 1k

It might be the most perfect day ever. It's warm but not too warm, the sunlight's sting soothed by a nice breeze. You've made it to the craft fair fairly early to avoid the crowds, though not as early as you'd planned. Despite Remus's best attempts at order in most parts of his life, it's more like controlled chaos. He tends to run a little behind though that's still earlier than anyone you know.

You've been on enough dates that you've lost count but not enough that it's stopped feeling new. You're meeting his friends for dinner tonight -- the first official time you'll all be hanging out together, though you've met the boys a few times here and there -- but today is all about the two of you. You're going to stroll around the craft fair and then go for a walk by the water in the summer sunshine and probably sneak some kisses.

The market is lovely and you tell Remus so. You've got your hand in the crook of his elbow like you're on an old-timey date.

"You think so?" he says, eyes crinkling. "I've not been but I thought you'd like it because of the music." There was a folk band playing by the entrance and he's right, you do love it. What is there to say to his kindness?

No words come, so you kiss his cheek instead. Remus looks like summer was made for him though you know he's most alive in the fall. The sun tans his skin and makes his scars more prominent which makes him more handsome, in your opinion. His hair highlights just a little bit and he loosens up in the sunshine. It's magic.

"Did I tell you how lovely you look today?" he says, small smile turning to a grin. His eye contact is so intense that you can only hold it for a few moments before you look down at your feet.

"You might have," you tell him. He's said it many times just this morning. "You do, too."

"Darling, you'll make me blush."

The market has plenty of beautiful things. Your own place is full of knick-knacks whereas Remus tends to be a bit more minimalist. It makes you smile to remember how you've given him a few things since you started dating and he's put them all in prominent places.

You find a tent of frog sculptures and name all of them. A beautiful and kind of eerie raven pendant in the same row catches your eye and you buy it for Lily's birthday.

"Don't let me forget to get soap for James' mum," Remus says, palm on your lower back as he watches the artist pack up your gift.

"Christmas shopping this early?" you tease.

His face is so close that you can't see all of it but you know what his smirk looks like. "Obviously," he says, voice low in your ear. "I've got to impress her. She's got to like me best."

Another row of stalls reveals one full of stuff made out of spoons. Wind chimes, clocks, kitchen utensils, belts. You're looking at a spoon lamp as Remus wanders further into the tent to chat with the man running it. Their voices carry but you don't pay much attention until you realize you're being called into the conversation.

"Maybe your girlfriend would want one?" the man asks Remus. You look up and find both of them looking at you, the man with a somewhat bemused expression and Remus with what you can only describe as adoration.

You walk over and see that he's been admiring a large collection of rings made from spoon handles. "What do you think, my girlfriend?" he asks cheekily. It's the first time he's actually called you this out loud to someone else -- you've discussed it, of course, and you figure that it's how he refers to you when you're not around but you've not heard it yet. And even though it's a bit of a joke it makes you feel like you've just sped down the steep part of a rollercoaster.

"Only if you get one, too, boyfriend." you say, though you're not totally sure where it comes from. Remus's eyes widen in mirth and he blushes a little.

Rings are much more Sirius's thing, so you gather, so you think Remus will laugh you off but he seems to actually consider it.

"Pick one for me, then." You laugh in delight and survey the display boxes of rings as he looks for one for you, too. You settle on a curved handle with an intricate twisty pattern that should fit his thumb and he picks a lovely one that will fit your thumb, decorated with a delicate flower and vine.

"Perfect," he says, sliding the ring onto your thumb as you slide your selection onto his. It's startlingly intimate, exchanging rings, even if they're made of spoon handles and going on your thumbs. Your heart beats loudly in your chest and you can't stop smiling.

The shopkeeper is grinning as he reads off the price and Remus pays. You are admiring your new ring in the light when he grabs your other hand and pulls you back into the row of tents.

"Quite stylish, Rem," you say. You lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek in thanks but he feels you coming and turns his head to catch your lips in a quick kiss.

"You're quite welcome," he says, smile turning cheeky. "Sirius is going to have a fit that he's not the only one wearing rings anymore."

"Oh, let him," you say. "From what you've told me, he could do with a bit of humbling."

Remus's eyes sparkle. "On that, darling, we agree." He kisses you again, just as quick but no less tender before he pulls away and points at something over your shoulder. "Oh, look! Soap!"

He drags you towards the tent to the sound of your laughter. Sure, you haven't been together very long, but you're pretty sure you could do this for the rest of your life.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders

[zuzu-the-villain]

─ the bunny lamp's promise | Izuku x reader

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

♡.ೃ࿐ FORMAT: one-shot

♡.ೃ࿐ PAIRING: Prohero!Deku x reader

♡.ೃ࿐ WORDCOUNT: 1.3k

"A lamp that shines so bright, A gift to keep you safe at night, When I'm away and you're alone, This lamp will be your guiding stone.

A symbol of my love and care, This lamp will always be there, To light your way and ease your fear, And remind you that I'm always near."

.

♡.ೃ࿐

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the sky transforms into a breathtaking canvas of vibrant colors. The last remnants of daylight slowly fade away, leaving behind a gentle twilight that blankets the earth. 

And as the darkness creeps in, a hush falls over the world. But it seems that someone did not have peace among that silence of the night.

“Don’t worry, darling. I have everything I need.“

“And those sandwiches I made you?"

"And those sandwiches you made me." he smiled caringly, gesturing towards the sandwiches that were nicely packed in a bag. But as much as he wanted to appear positive about everything now, he didn't show much of a progress now that you were here as an escort before his long departure.

"Do you know when you will be back?"

“Right, about that..“

As though lost in thought, his once bright smile faded into wistful expression.

“I cannot make a vow to return swiftly, but of this you can be certain, my love,”

Receiving your tender skin against his drowned like embers, he pulled you closer in the hope that you could hear him with your own ears and heart.

“..my heart is taped to yours, and it shall lead me back to you through storm and tempest, across oceans and mountains. No distance shall dim the flame of my love for you, nor weaken my resolve to reunite with you once more.”

“Oh, stop being so cheesy and come back as soon as you can, alright?” The two of you giggling and smiling like two doves in each other's arms, you came as close to him as your lips could reach his, closing even the tiniest gap in between.

It was a slow and lingering kiss, as if the two of you were trying to freeze time and make the moment last forever, saying goodbye without actually saying so before you had to part ways, once again.

“Oh!-and one more thing..!“

Before you even got hold of his key find, in no time at all you caught your hand, which had been standing shyly behind his back, now holding something in front of you, something packed.

The wrapping paper was forest green, decorated with tiny white bunnies and a delicate silver ribbon.

“For me?“ He gave you a funny look, handing the little gift into your hands once again leaving his lips on your forehead. His eyes flickered towards the digital departure board every few seconds, as if willing the time to move slower, but it was already time for the travelers to finally say their sweet goodbyes, and unfortunately for him, he drifted from the comfort of your embrace, leaving behind the bittersweet memories of your warmth for later.

"Go, go out there and be the hero they didn't even know they needed."

“Right! I’ll be back, honey, kisskiss!“

“Stay safe!“

Watching him go and disappear from your sight, your eyes sparkled with curiosity as you gazed down at the neatly wrapped present in your hands. You couldn't wait to untie the ribbon at home and see what treasure lay hidden inside. And so, 

as you carefully unwrapped the paper, you unearthed something that shone with a golden radiance, like a treasure discovered by a pirate on a sandy beach. But this was no ordinary gold in your still sparkling eyes. It was a precious, priceless gift that would light up your world in ways that money could never buy. The bunny lamp glowed with a warm, inviting light that chased away the shadows lurking in all corners. It was like a small beacon of a lamp, a symbol of love and devotion that will guide you through the darkest nights. 

The bunny lamp’s long, floppy ears stood still, as if they were listening intently to every sound around them. Those large, round eyes seemed to sparkle with inner mischief, as if it were in on a secret joke that only it knew.

As you admired the lamp's delicate beauty, you noticed a small letter tied around the neck. With trembling fingers, you opened the letter and read the heartfelt words written inside, sweet tears sliding down your face. It was a gift from dear Izuku, a token of his undying affection that would forever shine bright in your heart.

Every wonderful night, even if it was raining and thunder was hitting the bushes, you would turn on the bunny lamp, letting it protect you from all the evils and darkness that kept you awake. Izuku’s presence wasn't quite next to you, but it shone with a fiery intensity, surrounding you with the safety of invisible arms that you would have otherwise been wrapped in during the night, even though they were now somewhere far away. On the other side of the world. 

Countless nights have slipped away into the past, but as day and night changed, long weeks followed, turning into months like caterpillars just emerging from their interwoven web. 

Over time, his letters stopped coming to you and to your loving heart, and it also seemed like there was no signal as soon as he didn't answer your calls. You really wanted to understand what was going on, but you thought that he was probably overloaded with work, that it was perfectly fine if he put you aside now.

As the seasons changed and the world around you transformed, you slowly began to realize. The holiday cheer that once brought you such joy now felt hollow and empty, a painful reminder of what you had lost. The mornings and nights stretched out endlessly, with each passing day a struggle to find meaning and purpose in a life that had been shattered by grief.

No longer did the changing leaves or the first snowfall bring a sense of wonder and excitement. The colors of fall were muted and dull, the snowflakes falling like tears from the sky. The once-festive decorations and lights felt garish and tasteless, mocking your pain and loneliness.

Memories of laughter and love of him haunted you every waking moment, a bittersweet reminder of a life that was now gone.

And as the night wore on, thick tears of yours, over the cold moonlight continued to flow down. You clutched the lamp tightly to your chest, its warm glow a reminder of the love you held onto so fiercely. Your heart held both hope and suspicion in equal measure, as you craved for a better outcome while fearing the worst.

Even so, you never lost hope that Izuku would return to you and held on to your love for him, but as the first rays of dawn crept into the room, illuminating the emptiness that surrounded you, you knew that this waiting of yours had come to an end.

With a heavy heart, you turned off the lamp, the only light left in your life now extinguished forever. And as you sat there in the darkness, whispering those final farewell to the man you had loved so deeply, knowing that you would never see him again,

“..you made me a promise, a vow to return to my side.. and the life we once shared, now a distant memory in the wake of your betrayal of those endless years without you. You liar..yo-you big dumb liar! Y-you said you'd be ba-ack! You swore to me.."

The darkness seemed to swallow up your fragile figure, leaving you isolated and alone with your heart that felt heavy and broken, drained of life and joy. You couldn't understand how it still beat with such force when everything felt so meaningless.

You were consumed by your grief, lost in a world that no longer held any meaning. With tears streaming down your face, you clung to the lamp, as if it were a lifeline in the darkness. It was just you and him now, him,─in the soft glow of the lamp.

.

.

♡.ೃ࿐

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #pro hero deku #pro hero deku x reader #bnha #angst #midoriya x y/n #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #thebunnylampspromise

[wilsonthemoose]

Watch Out For Sammy

Written for Week 2 of the Dark!Dean Event: "The things I'm willing to do or kill... it scares me sometimes."

"Watch out for Sammy," said his father as he hefted his duffle and walked out of a hundred different doors in a hundred different towns.

Dean thinks of that often. And he's thinking of it again, standing at a crossroads.

Teen and Up Audiences | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Major Character Death

Corpse (brief and non graphic description), Spider (brief mention), Season 01, Season 02, All Hell Breaks Loose, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst

Here's how this will end: one half-drunk night, Sam Winchester will call his father's phone just to hear it go to voicemail, just to hear his voice. He will hear his brother instead, saying "John Winchester is dead."

It will be the first quiet doubt.

It goes something like this: he's standing over the dazed, half-conscious form of Jake, he's walking away, he's walking towards his brother.

He's waking up in blood-stained clothes.

He's grieving. He's drunk. He's dialing a number from memory at a rusty payphone.

"Watch out for Sammy," said his father as he hefted his duffle and walked out of a hundred different doors in a hundred different towns.

Dean watched him as a child, taking his first steps toward him, making paper airplanes in a motel parking lot, doing crosswords by the window, running laps under the midday sun.

He watched him across crowds and under day-old newspapers in California. Watched him juggle several jobs over the summer, pick trash off a highway (a volunteer but if Dean could have walked up to him and said hello, he would have started with a lousy joke about convicts). He watched his lamp left on during exam week and watched him buy asprins in drug stores, play volleyball on the lawn.

Dean stayed at shitty motels and picture-perfect for-sale houses with camp beds and a phone number to call if shit went sideways.

And when it did and he called, with something like a hundred miles between them and a burning apartment and a dead girl, his father answered, cut him off before he got more than a word out, said "I know. I'm sorry," and hung up.

And that was all.

Years earlier, on Sam's 17th birthday, scraping a whetstone along the edge of a blade, his father had said, almost as if he were wondering aloud (except he wasn't the type to voice his thoughts unless he meant to) that Sam would always need someone watching out for him.

(Dean had spent the day ribbing Sam about being all grown up, ruffling his hair and baby-talking him until he'd brushed Dean off and gone out for the day.)

Dean had muttered ascent with a shrug and in the days, weeks, and years following, had watched his father's oppressive watchfulness, and realized, uneasily, that he had meant it.

Sam had been a sweet little thing, still slightly jaundiced and too small to do much more than look and smile the first time their mother had transferred the bundle gently into Dean's arms.

Dean had sat still as he could, holding his arms stiff where his father had positioned them ("You have to be careful with his head,") and had decided, with childlike sincerity, that he would never let anything happen to his little brother.

He'd somewhat failed at that. In a hundred scratches, scrapes, and stitches. A hundred different monsters and as many close-runs, but he'd kept Sam alive, and when he did get hurt, Dean had been there with a first-aid kit, and, when Sam was older, a smuggled flask of whiskey.

They drove for hours at a time, for months, chasing cases across the states and a father more elusive than any ghost.

Sam slept badly, tossing and turning, waking breathing like he was still in that burning room.

Their father never answered another call or voicemail, but he turned up, once or twice, worked a case with them, and left as abruptly as he'd come.

"Watch out for Sammy," he'd still tell Dean in way of goodbye.

He wasn't given to asking questions. He hadn't been raised to it. "Shoot first, ask questions later," his father had drilled into him and Dean was nothing if not an effective soldier.

But there was something in the way John treated the two of them. The way he'd give Dean the gun and send Sam to guard the victims (what's a shield except the thing you don't mind getting hit, Dean would wonder). The way he trusted Dean, the way he didn't trust Sam. The way he'd come back smelling like whiskey and suspicion, the way he'd look at Sam, the way he'd question him, coaxing and concerned for years at first, then harsh, interrogative, about everything from what he'd been dreaming about to why the ever-loving fuck he'd sympathized with a werewolf several months back.

"You never ask questions," his father had said over a drink with half a smile and something of a challenge.

You'd never answer had flashed through Dean's head and lingered like a doubt. "I don't need to," he'd said instead.

Dean wasn't given to asking questions, but he knew how to get an answer when he needed one.

Slit a throat, hold out a chalice to catch the blood, ask a question.

Tie down a demon, drown it in a tub of holy water, ask a question each time you let it come up for air.

He knows. Yellowed eyed demon, special children. His father's hand curled around the neck of a bottle, cigarette-yellowed nails white as he stares at Sam.

If Dean failed as a child, let a striga get too close, let a werewolf take a nasty swing, let Sam's head connect with asphalt that one awful morning in Iowa, he fails all the worse as an adult. Sam dies in his arms.

He once asked Sam what he'd really wanted when he'd gone away. Normalcy? Safety? You know what happens to normal people. You know how safe they are.

Tracing his thumb along a line of stitches, Sam had answered, hesitantly, slowly, "It was never going to end. Dad's crusade— it would end with all of us dead."

They lay him down in a little abandoned cottage just outside Cold Oak.

Sam looks small, suddenly, bangs askew, collar turned up, but with the wound hidden under him, Dean can convince himself Sammy's just sleeping. He looks peaceful, younger than he has any right to be, innocent, like the years of hunting haven't yet left their mark on him. Like he'll sit up any minute now and go after their Dad to make sure he doesn't kill that kid.

A large spider crawls off the wall and over his folded hands, it's near Sam's collar by the time Dean springs up from his chair and beats it away.

He stands at a crossroads, buries a box in the ground, waits five long heartbeats, and turns

Red eyes flash, long white arms unfold to hang by her sides, "Hello, Dean," she says.

"I'm here to make a deal," he says. "My father for my brother."

Her teeth flash in a smile.

"I'll always watch out for Sammy," Dean tells his father instead of goodbye.

#spndarkdean2023 #“The things I'm willing to do or kill... It scares me sometimes.” #Supernatural fic #Dean winchester #Sam winchester #Fic tag

[heaven4lostgirls]

could you please write one with James or Remus or sirius and Indian specifically Bengali reader. Fluff or angst. Friends to lovers????

love saves all

james potter x indian!fem!reader

summary: james has been in love with you forever, he can’t stand to see you with someone else

warnings: fluff, minor mentions of injuries

a/n: hi lover! thank you for the request, i’m not bengali and i didn’t want to write something that could possibly offend the bengali community however i did try and incorporate indian culture because i’m tamil (telegu) so i hope you enjoy this! if you don’t let me know 💗

the sun shone down on your brown skin as you made your way through the forbidden forest after one of remus’ transformations. you could feel the fatigue hitting you now and you knew that you needed a nap before even attempting to go to any of your classes.

you knew you would be excused considering minnie and dumbledore both knew of remus’ transformations and that you guys would help, however they were unaware of you all becoming illegal animagi.

as you watched sirius and james make their way to the hospital wing where they laid moony on one of the free beds you took a damp washcloth and softly ran it over remus’ new scars over his face.

he softly winced and for each wince you muttered a small apology.

“if i knew i’d have y/n/n doting on me when i got hurt maybe i’d get hurt more often” sirius teased and you couldn’t help but smile before flicking his forehead.

“if you got hurt, i’d let you bleed out padfoot” you smiled sweetly at him and you could hear james snort to the left of you.

once madam pomfrey had come to help remus you all made your way to the boys dorms where you decided to lay down for a bit.

“y/n, do you want to come lay down with me?” you heard sirius ask before a loud oomph was heard as he fell of his bed or more correctly speaking he was pushed by a certain raven haired boy with glasses.

“i’ll come lay down in a minute, i’m going back to my dorm to do some prayers for rem” you state, getting up before making your way to the door.

you hear hurried footsteps behind you and you turn around to face a sheepish looking james.

“can i come with you?” he mutters before rubbing the back of his neck.

“of course you can jamie”

you both walk hand in hand to your dorm where you take off your shoes outside and kneel in front of your shiva statue.

you light your lamp and relight some agarbatti that had finished through the night.

you feel james kneel next to you and you look at him with a smile. he looks confused in a sort of cute puppy way.

you show him the correct motions and pray with him before putting ash on his forehead.

you sit in silence for a few moments before you peek open an eye to look at him.

he looks so serene, happy and at peace in front you of you that you can’t help but smile.

he cracks open one of his eyes to shoot you a smile before motioning his head forward telling you to pay attention

you muffle a laugh before you finish off your prayer and make your way back to the dorm before cleaning up.

as you both lay down in james’ bed after sirius had gotten bored of teasing you two, you draw circles on his chest and you can feel him smile down at you.

“hey y/n/n? what do you thinks gonna happen to us in the future?” he asks albeit curious to what your answer would be.

“my parents are looking for potential suitors i guess, it’s odd for me to be of age and not be

betrothed to someone already, i guess hogwarts could only buy me so much time”

“betrothed? you mean engaged?”

you hum and you can feel him tense under you, you weren’t particularly happy about the circumstances either but there was only little you could do against your parents.

“w-what if we got married?” james fleamont potter never stuttered. especially when talking to girls.

“james you know that can’t happen, what about lily? you’ve been chasing her for years..”

you feel him shift so he’s sitting up and he lifts your face to face his.

“lily was always a distraction for me y/n, i never thought you would like me - i still don’t think you do- but i won’t be able to live with myself if i let you get married to someone else without knowing how i feel about you”

your eyes well with tears and you can feel your heart thudding against your rib cage.

“you like me?”

he smiles almost amused by your lack of composure before his eyes fill with love and affection.

“like? i’ve been in love with you since the day we met y/n”

you can’t contain yourself for some reason and as tears escape your eyes you slowly lift your hand to james’ face and place your lips on his.

“i have been waiting for you to say that since 5th year james.”

“oh-“ he flushes in embarrassment.

“okay okay we get it, you two love each other BUT FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN PLEASE GO TO SLEEP ITS 6AM”

you and james snicker to yourselves as you go back to cuddling as sirius’ sleepy snored fill the room once again.

#juliwrites #harry potter #marauders #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter x reader #james potter x indian!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter x indian!fem!reader #indian!reader #poc!reader

[bedbellyandbeyond]

You’re A Dad Now

(Story Post)

“Gods, what have I gotten myself into…” Asger had been living at the German APID facility for a few days now. They accommodated him with his own single room while Tand and kids were in a separate quad room. Korsy was working on paperwork to move them to the Canadian APID branch, but in the meantime, he and Dusty had other work to do, so Asger and the Dark Realmers would hang out here for some time. It was a big change for Tand and his kids. Living in the dim dark woods for so long, where the sun never rose, they were having a hard time adjusting to all the light in this realm. They constantly kept the overhead lights off in their room, with just the night stand lamps on, and barely left, so Asger made a point of bringing them their meals from the cafeteria to their door. Tand didn’t seem to like having him around but had accepted him as their Earth Realm guide, and the kids loved him, so he would hang out with them for a few hours each day. He would go out on occasion and buy them clothes and toys, and the kids had some fun learning how to do up buttons and zippers. Finding them shoes was difficult as their feet were different in that they were digitigrade and long, so he figured something more custom would have to be figured out later. Now a couple days in, Dr Vermeulen had the results of Tand’s blood test and speculations were confirmed.

Tand was pregnant. When they tried to do an ultrasound though, he became very uncomfortable, and it had to be postponed until later. His blood results, however, returned positive for anemia and several nutritional deficiencies. His health would need close monitoring for a while and more blood work soon to see if his new diet helped in these areas. For now, his pregnancy would be considered high risk until his health improved and an ultrasound could be properly done. “So, it’s like you’re a dad now,” Korsy commented. He and Dusty had come to check up on Asger’s situation and were having lunch with him out at a restaurant. “But I’m not their father, and Tand hates me, and I’m starting to think I should have never interfered with them at all,” Asger said. “I mean, yeah, probably,” Korsy admitted. “It wasn’t your place to tell them what’s best for them. Plus, you knew you weren’t allowed to take anything from the rift.” “Now hold on,” Dusty said puffing his chest. “I disagree. Sure, Tand and the children were surviving out there, but they weren’t living. And yes, he managed to get through three pregnancies on his own, but there’s always risk to it, and who knows if he would survive a fourth without medical assistance. If things went wrong, those children could be left all alone to fend for themselves. They’d never survive. You’re doing the right thing.” Asger lowered his head into his hands. “What do I do now?” “Well, do you want kids? ‘Cause it seems like you have kids,” Korsy said. “They’re Tand’s kids, though,” Asger said. “I can’t just insert myself into their lives.” “You already did,” Korsy said. “And like, be honest with me. Would you really have done all this for them if you didn’t have a little crush?” Asger was taken aback. “What, on Tand?” “Of course, on Tand. Do you think we’re stupid?” Korsy shook his head. “Asger, you’re a prude. I know. But tell me you weren’t a little aroused when that cute guy tried to mate with you in the woods.” “I wasn’t! I mean, I suppose you could say he’s attractive… But I have decency,” Asger said. “I’ve heard enough lies. Dusty. Get a read.” Dusty shook his head. “I don’t need a read. He’s completely smitten.” Asger blushed and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Also, I don’t appreciate my cousin making light of someone trying to force themselves on me.” Korsy sighed. “Okay, fair. Sorry about that. I’m sure it was scary.” “It was. I had it under control, but still…” Asger complained. “Anyway, they’re your responsibility now,” Korsy said. “Anything beyond the rift is the responsibility of the dark elves, and as a dark elf yourself, this family is your responsibility. Regardless of your exile.” “Jag vet… But what good can I do when I’ve betrayed Tand’s trust?” Asger asked. “Honestly, I think he understands what you’re trying to do for them, he’s just stubborn,” Dusty said. “And you can’t blame him for being cautious. He’s been alone a long time. Where are those kids’ other parents? And the doctor said he’s still young. Where are his parents, hm?” Asger felt sick to his stomach now, thinking once again about the young Tand, having kids all by himself. “I don’t even know if he wanted to have kids in the first place… He shows some signs of resentment towards them. He was even ready to let them go with us without him before.” “You said his species mates every time they meet up because they’re so few in number and live separately,” Korsy said. “But is that something he knew inherently, or was that something someone told him to justify taking advantage of him?” “I…don’t want to think about that right now. I’m losing my appetite,” Asger said. “Have you talked to your mother since all this?” Dusty asked. “Yes… I had a call with her yesterday,” Asger sighed. “She has…mixed feelings. I think she's proud of me for helping, but rather upset about my exile.” “That's your dad's fault, not yours,” Dusty said. “He's such an asshole…” “As strict as my father can be, I did break the rules at the end of the day,” Asger admitted. “Such rules are not made without reason. We know far too little about Mörkret. It is only reasonable to fear the other side.” “But Tand and the kids are dark elves, right? They deserve to be here,” Dusty said. “I still can't confirm that they are elves,” Asger said. “You haven't checked their mark?” Korsy asked. “The dark elf mark isn't in a very conspicuous place, you know,” Asger reminded. “It's not like I can go around dropping people's pants.” “Didn't you say Tand dropped his pants for you?” Korsy asked. “Should've seen it then.” “I'm sorry, but searching his inner thigh was the last thing I wanted to do in that moment!” Asger defended. “I mean, he literally wanted you to give him attention down there anyway…” Korsy retorted. “Not everyone's like you, Korsy,” Asger said. “I can't just lose my dignity for anyone who offers.” Korsy shrugged. “Your loss…” “You did the right thing,” Dusty assured. “And anyway, we don't know if Tand really wanted to sleep with you or if he was just doing it to get it over with.” Asger frowned. “Yeah…” Korsy raised an eyebrow at his cousin's reaction. “You dog, you.” Asger sat up straighter. “Excuse me?” “You really do have a crush on Tand.” Asger huffed. “Have some respect.” “You didn't say no.” Korsy curled his lips. “You don't want to just be another John, you wanted him to want you.” “Stop.” “You wanted him to find you handsome and charming. Heroic, even.” “You don't know what you're saying.” “You want to hold his hand. You want him to kiss you.” Asger suddenly flushed, remembering those gentle lips on his own. “…” Dusty’s eyes widened. “…Did you kiss him?” “No…” Asger shook his head. “He kissed me. But just to get me in the mood…” “Were you in the mood?” Korsy asked. “Definitely not,” Asger said. “We are not discussing this further.” “Okay, okay. Sheesh.” Korsy had mostly finished his food so he leaned back in his chair and stretched. He paused when he noticed a sly look on Dusty's face, his lips curling devilishly. “What?” “Nothing,” Dusty said, waving it off. “If you have something to say…” Asger lead. “Well…” Dusty propped his chin up. “I was just thinking it must run in the family.” “What?” Asger asked. Korsy rolled his eyes. “Don't encourage him…” Asger raised an eyebrow. “I'd like to know what your friend here has to say.” “It just seems you boys both have a knack for suppressing your feeling,” Dusty said. “You could benefit from being a bit more open.” “I am open,” Korsy said. “I’m an open book! I tell you a lot of things!” Dusty shrugged. “Your book might be open, but you have pages torn out.” “My pages are perfectly intact,” Korsy rebuked. “Alright. Tell me about your pregnancy scare,” Dusty said. Korsy faltered. “I… Well…” “Pregnancy scare?” Asger asked. “You got someone pregnant?” “No, a scare's a scare,” Korsy corrected. “No one got pregnant. And I don’t talk about it because it's not my place to talk about it, you know? It involves another person. People deserve privacy…” “Fine. What's your father's full name?” Dusty asked. “Uhh… Günther Larsen Korsgaard,” Korsy recalled. “Don't ever call him that. Only my mother and his mother could call him that.” “What was your mother's name?” Dusty asked. Korsy tensed a little. “Gesine.” “Tell me about her,” Dusty said. Korsy forced himself to relax. “She was lovely. Bravest person I ever met. She loved cinnamon and collecting animal skulls.” “How did she pass away?” Korsy immediately clammed up. “How did you lose your leg?” Dusty pressed. Korsy stayed silent. “That's enough,” Asger said. “My farster's accident is a sore spot for the entire family. We do not speak easily of it.” “So it was an accident?” Dusty picked out. “I said that's enough,” Asger ordered. “We get your point. Leave it alone.” Dusty waved his hands in front of him. “Sorry. I'll drop it. I can get carried away.” Asger sighed. “I should get back to Tand and the kids. I was going to show them their first movie.” “Ooh, what movie?” Dusty asked. “I'm not sure yet… I'm between Pippi and Moomins.” “Oh, hard decision,” Korsy said, suddenly all chatty again. “But you have to go with Pippi, right? Make your Swedish side proud.” “You're right, it has to be Pippi,” Asger said. “I can show them the Moomins later.” “Wait, Pippi? Like Pippi Longstockings?” Dusty asked. “Pippi Langstrumpf. You know the show?” Asger asked. Dusty nodded quickly. “I watched the show with Dante when I was a kid! She's Swedish?” “Of course! They showed her in Canada?” Asger asked, astounded. “The animated show was actually a Canadian/German/Swedish collab aired around the world,” Korsy informed, checking is phone. “I watched it as a kid in Canada too.” “And here I thought the rest of the world did not know her marvel. I'll be choosing one of the live action films, however,” Asger said. He pushed out his chair, and placed some cash on the table to cover his meal. “Still, I should get to it.” “I'm sure the kids are going to love it,” Dusty said. “Tand too! I can’t imagine he’s seen anything like that.” “I'd ask to come watch with you, but I got some work to do before bed,” Korsy said. “Work?” Dusty asked. “Aren't we off for today?” “You are. I have to do some rescheduling since our elven detour,” Korsy said. “We're gonna have to do some doubling back tomorrow…” “Boo…” Dusty pouted. “Well, it's not late enough to call Grey yet, so I'm gonna see if I can find him a souvenir.” “Sounds like a plan. So, I can get the waiter to bring you the bill?” Korsy said directly to Dusty. “Me?” Dusty frowned. “You were serious about that?” “Yep. I’ve bought every meal since we got here and you don’t need to eat,” Korsy said. “I should’ve never told you that…” Dusty said pouting. “Fine.” He started to pull out his wallet. Asger chuckled and put a couple more bills on the table. “I’ll get it this time. Don’t worry.” “Hey! No! You shouldn’t be paying for shit,” Korsy said. “He needs to learn.” “It’s fine, I have plenty of funds,” Asger said. “Yeah, but you’re out of the job now, so you should be saving,” Korsy said. Asger started backing away. “I’m leaving. What’s on the table is on the table.” “So chivalrous,” Dusty said, smiling coyly. “Korsy, you could learn something from your cousin.” “I’ve literally paid every bill until now!” “Okay, okay. Calm down, big boy.” “You’re all too much.”

#lore #Asger #Dusty #Korsy #Tand #implied mpreg

[witchthewriter]

𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @ollielovesjisoo.

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑷𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒂 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒌! He is such a kind soul. No matter who you are, what you look like, he will give you the respect you deserve. He's very selfless, a bit of a mother hen and likes to look after those he loves.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Literally encourages you with everything. You're own personal cheerleader. Because the Games were so tough, he uses everyday as an excuse to be kinder.

Grabs you by the hand and twirls you around in the kitchen, he loves dancing with you.

He helps every injured animal he comes across. Even going so far to get thing to stitch them back up. Peeta really doesn't do well with the killing of anything.

Whenever he kisses you, he holds your cheek and gently rubs his thumb back and forth.

He's a very good gardener. You have an abundance of vegetables and fruits. Oh and flowers! Your home is very cosy!

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Harvest Moon by Neil Young

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

You Fell First, But They Fall Harder

The Gomez & Morticia Adams (loving and devoted, you top)

Sun (Peeta) x Moon (You)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Soulmates

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your selflessness. He's always in awe about it. He too is the same way, but there's something about seeing the person you love most in this world, take care of someone who needs it.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Your best friend would be Prim, or Finnick. Both can be very gentle and kind. With Finnick he's very sarcastic and can get you to laugh at the drop of a hat. With Prim, and although she's much younger, she's very wise and taught you a lot.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mix between Katniss, Prim and Annie. You have a softness, a gentleness to you. Your nature isn't to hurt, but to heal. But you do know the realities of life and aren't naive.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

Peeta found one of the stray dogs and it followed him home. Completely starving and willing to eat anything - Peeta gave him a hearty meal and soon, he kept coming back for his feed at the same time everyday. It took a while, but he eventually let you pet him and soon he became a guard dog of sorts.

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑺𝒘𝒂𝒏! I actually love this decision. I think the two of you would get along so great. There's just something about her, that would click with you. Like you were supposed to be together. Her introverted nature meshes well with yours, and you're both happy being away from all the crowds.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Bella's love language is acts of service and gift giving. Sometimes when she feels in a particular mood, she'll be more affectionate - and it's those times that your love seems to bloom.

Buys you books all the time, because she knows she'll be able to borrow them.

You both love the colour purple!!! Your first interaction would be something goofy around that. Like you were standing in line to buy a purple lamp and Bella saw and asked where you got it from

She loves loves loves making you feel safe. She would learn how to fix cars and then make sure she's always accessible in the event that you break down somewhere. (Butch...lesbian?)

She is a very good cook and you would have homemade meals every night. She would never let you go hungry.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Two Nerds Nerding Out About Being Nerds

You're The Only One Who Understands Me

Best Friends That Everyone Thinks Are In A Relationship, But They Actually Aren't. And Then Someone Randomly Asks If You're With Bella & You Just Say Yes.

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

It's Always Been You

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your sense of humour. Not a lot of people understand Bella, especially her sarcasm. But you absolutely do. It's like you're both on the same wavelength. You just understand her, and that's something that's never happened before.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Alice! She LOVES YOUR RELATIONSHIP! (I think she might want to join?) She thinks it's so wholesome and loving. She can truly see how much you care for each other and it's overwhelming.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mix between Bella, Alice and Rosalie. There's a dreaminess to you that I'm picking up on. You are kind but when you don't like someone, it's very obvious. You're introverted, like cats, to draw and read.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

This actually wasn't your idea. Not at all. How could you know that while driving, you would find a whole litter of kittens abandoned in the woods? You couldn't just leave them there, because surely something bigger would ... ya know. So you took the five stray little ones into your car and Bella closed her eyes and shook her head as soon as she walked through the door.

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑵𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒎! Once a shy victim who couldn't stand up to his bullies, turned into one of the bravest men in the Wizarding World. You better believe this man will treat you like a goddamn queen. Whatever you want, he'll get it for you. He has so much love in this heart that he needs to express it.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Both sensitive AND romantic, Neville would plan many many dates. And they would be amazing too. One time he created an outdoor theatre, with a movie playing against the wall of Hogwarts. He charmed the area so you wouldn't get too cold, and brought blankets, a hovering blanket (like in Aladdin) and buckets of popcorn that keep refilling themselves

He would definitely help you cut and dye your hair. But the best thing about being a wizard is that if there's been a mix-up, he can fix it with magic!!!

Neville is very open-minded, caring and kind. He could have easily wound up in Hufflepuff, but the sorting hat put him in Gryffindor. This meant that you could show each other your House traditions

Very awkward with pet names, like really awkward. It took a while for him to get used to calling you cute names. But now he's all for it; 'honey,' 'sweetheart,' 'my love,' 'my heart,' 'my world.'

If you married, it would definitely be in the Hogwarts grounds, with McGonnagal, or even Harry officiating the wedding.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Similar Personalities 

Places His Wife Above Everyone

Plant Dies (You) x Buys Them A New One (Neville)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

You Confessed Your Love When Thinking He Was Unconscious 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your generosity! Neville loves the goodness in your heart, and how no matter what, you'll do your best to do what is right. Your big heart makes his own flutter whenever you're near.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Luna! She would be such a fun friend to have. Airy and not very grounded, she would come out with some of the most wisest things imaginable.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mix between Ginny, Luna and Lavender Brown. I think you have a lot of love to give, and can see yourself as annoying (which you shouldn't.) You can lift someone's mood so easily and light up every room you walk into. Sometimes people might not understand you, but that doesn't matter. Because YOU understand you, and THAT'S what matters.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

Neville surprised you with a kitten! It was your first year living together and although you never felt lonely, there was something missing from your life. And apparently, it came in tiny kitten form! Clumsy, falls asleep anywhere and everywhere, you were worried there was something wrong with the cat. However, you soon discovered that your kitten had been jinxed by one of the first years.

#witchthewriter #pair ups #match ups #hunger games match ups #hunger games pair ups #twilight pair ups #twilight match ups #harry potter ships #harry potter pair ups

[artesianalpondscum]

EXHAUSTIVE POLAROID CAMERA GUIDE FOR POLAROID CAMERA NEWBIES AND THE POLAROID CURIOUS FROM SOMEONE WHO TRIALED AND ERRORED THEM SELF OUT OF NEARLY $600 TO GET A GOOD EXPIERENCE AND THINKS YOU SHOULDNT SO IM MAKING THIS OUT OF SHEER SPITE TO THE POLAROID COMMUNITY GATEKEEPERS WHO THINK YOU SHOULD

TLDR at end

ALL RIGHT FUCKING NERDS YOU WANNA BE ONE OF THOSE WEIRDOS THAT WALKS AROUND TAKING POLAROIDS IN THE 2024TH YEAR OF DIVINE ABANDONMENT BUT DONT KNOW WHERE TO START? LET ME HELP YOU NOT WASTE HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS IN TRIAL AND ERROR LIKE I HAVE AND GIVE AN ACTUAL HELPFUL GUIDE AND WHAT TO EXPECT!

First the film

Polaroid film come in a few kinds main two are I-Type and 600 Film (SX-70 & 8x10 are for cameras were not discussing in this thread as those are for geeks not nerds), both are essentally the same except 600 film has the battery in the casette that older Polaroid cameras need to function and the I-type is the same size and shape casette sans the battery for new cameras and this is the most important note regarding film you want crystal clear sharp images and bright blues and greens like a phone pic but on a instant film get an instax why?

Polaroid 2024 is not Polaroid 1984

modern polaroid started out as a company called "the impossible project" in 2008 who purchased all the equipment to make polaroid film when Polaroid was shutting its door BUT because whofuckingknows why Polaroid said "nuh-uh" to selling the actual formulation of the film which died with the company so the Impossible Project just had to home brew it with what was available. as a end result Modern Polaroid film is thicker so a cartridge holds 8 shots now instead of 10, and is as sensitive and tempermental as a serial killer ferret, that is to say not at all and very. you can shoot a wall of blue in a blue museum with a blue filter over the lens and the film will still have a warm hue to it, and while direct light during the developing stage of Polaroid back in the day overdeveloped it jnto hell nowadays it can not be overdeveloped so easily in direct light as an extra 3 seconds in the winter sun or 10 seconds under a lamp can help it come out nicer but im jumping ahead.

Fujifilm Instax,

however has had their film in production since 1998 and is very capable of producing clear quality shots with very accurate color and a price per exposure half that of polaroids and cost for entry is far cheaper than Polaroid overall so pickup an instax mini/square (or wide if you're weird) camera while its smaller itll be that "phone pic but on film" clarity youre looking for

see the difference below and how Polaroid on the left cant do a pure white where the blues become purple because of the everpresent warm cast in polaroid whereas Instax on the right can do a pure white so the color is better with in my opinion a slight blue cast

NOW FOR THE REST OF US MASSOCHISTS WHO WANT TO GO POLAROID?

this is very important

Dont Buy one of the new ones off the shelf they are garbage look for slect retro to 2017 models!

what kind of retro camera to buy? do I need to summon Glasya-Labolas out of the Ars Goetia* going into thrift stores to find one? maybe, to that second question but let me show you the basic differences with the way-too many cameras I own first and show you with what to look for on ebay and in thrift shops. I paid no more than $45 for any one of these cameras and most were under $30 and to me that is a comfortable price that i would say is a good starting range

* please dont actually summon Glasya-Labolas just ask Lucifer its easier

BEHOLD MY COLLECTION

now these are 6 different cameras right? WRONG 2 of these are functionally identical, one is functionaly identical but tries poorly not to be one in theory works well so what youre looking at here is really 4 different types of camera of which 2 are actually worth purchasing.

Polaroids function by a series of plastic lenses* concentrating the picture to a mirror when the shutter opens and that mirror reflects onto the film which functionally classifies Polaroid as a Box Camera. what you need to focus on is one simple feature and that is the Focusing

*not all polaroids have a plastic lens there Is a series called the SX-70 and a 8x10 model that has glass lenses it's a reflex camera and other features for really sharp pics but thats for geeks not nerds we are nerds here

retro/vintage polaroids all (except exactly one unit) have a auto light meter that auto adjusts the esposure time to get the best brightness and worked reliably well on old film but on new film youre going to want to make use of the exposure compensation bar under the lens and bump it up at least half way (it even says to adjust the compensation by 1/3 up on the film box so this is a thing known by the company)

now FOCUSING is a whole mixed bag and focusing on old polaroids works in one of 4 ways (except the SX-70 and 8x10 cameras)

images to follow descriptions

1- FIXED FOCUS

the every day run of the mill Polaroid (and instax to greater extent) camera it has the sharpest clarity at 4 feet okayish up to 12 feet and 4 to 12 feet ONLY, this is 95% of what you will find in Polaroids as this was the most common way they were made and offers decent pics in the "tea steeped for one minute too short with almost enough tea leafs" type of decent, like sure maybe some people like it that way and alot of people who dont drink tea wouldnt be able to tell you the difference except that its weak and is "fine enough" but why would you if you have choices

how to identify - again its the vast majority of the 600 cameras youll see, if the face looks like some variation of these faces then its a fixed length

2- little plasitc filter shit "Close up lens"

this little fucking thing is the biggest lie ever made on any product, take the fixed focus camera that functions decently enough then add a psuedo magnfying glass wannabe filter you slide out in front of the lens that is supposed to give you a 2 to 4 feet of focus length, it doesnt, it adds a weird halo around the edges and over concentrates light onto the film bleaching out what little cool tone colors you have while adding a warped bluring to what little detail you can make out. these are somewhat common for all of the newer ones (post 1997 to closure in 2008 except the spectra and "one" which dont buy either as its not supported and lacks stuff again getting ahead of myself) as Polaroid just ended up throwing them on by default for the sake of a feature

how to identify - it has a little slider on it that shows two different focal lengths to the left of the lens

to see what i mean about destroying your photos with this camera style, that ring around the edge is the edge of the lens cover that covers your lens and in that focus area it overmagnified the available light and burnt the film

3- Sonar Autofocus

Sonar Autofocusing uses a Sound wave that humans cant hear that in nanoseconds chirps out and then guages how quick it takes for that sound to reach back to the camera and then selects one of 5 zones of focused lenses closet being shapest at 3 feet but can still pull some ok detail at 2, based on that, these can produce really sharp pics so long as

a- you're not in a room with horrifyingly loud muic

b- a room competing to be an anechoic chamber

c- not trying to shoot through a window*

these are kina iffy to find but not impossible

how to identify - it has a big-ol gold disc on the face of it cant miss it

*some models let you bypass the AF to focus on the default 4 to 12 feet focus length while allowing for the flash bypass trigger † to be used for shooting through windows or in situations where the sonar might not work for your photo

† not all models

4- IR autofocus

uses an IR beam in the flash to send a "wink" to a reciever under the viewfinder to choose one of 2 focusd lenses (think the "close up lens" but automatic and inside in the camera) the af cant be turned off nor can you bypass the flash on all models as the mechanism needs the flash bar to focus, it still cant shoot through windows since it needs flash and has three less focus ranges, and like all IR based AF on any camera it can misread very easily

somewhat hardish to find since these were made starting in 1997 and Polaroid went down hill quickly after the advent of affordable digital cameras (The last model ever made Polaroid one has an IR sensor and so do some spectras but as stated previously dont bother with them)

After digital cameras and the digital revolution in the late 90s/ early 2000s people no longer needed a polaroid camera to send pics for insurance claims or to take nudes without having to worry about a developing studio seeing them, Oh yeah outside of professional settings polaroids were mostly used to share nudes as before them you could ask your local film studio who had the biggest dick in town and get a factual answer, if you diddnt know that well now you do, so post 97 models id stay away from even though some of them are cool and futiger aero designed like the Polaroid One 600, which is the last model ever made by Polaroid before closing and selling all there stuff (except the film formulation) to The Impossible Project but due to all the cost cutting that was being done its not worth it looking for one for anything other than a collectable because its missing the most important factor needed for impossible film the exposure compensation meter despite having an improved IR AF over the 97 model

below pic left to right is a mid 90s polaroid and the last model Polaroid 600 One

What was that I said about something called the "spectra" earlier?

yes the spectra would have been the polaroid to get however the impossible project gave up on it due to spectras uniqueness and the issues that came along with it. see the spectra 1200 film was a touch wider than the regular 600 film and its rollers were very very much made for the old polaroid film that impossible's film no matter how they pinched and squeezed and forced angles and coated what have you they simply brokedown and jammed irreversibly alot so fun to collect but its truely a RIP but for me ill still pick one up one day as a show piece

GREAT SO WHAT DO YOU BUY OUT OF THESE IF I WANT TO HAVE A POLAROID EXPIERENCE ILL LOVE OR ENJOYABLY TOLERATE

answer

the ones with the Sonar auto focus

ideally modles (readable on face above where the pictures come out) Sun 660 AF, Supercolor 670 AF or, Impluse AF

Best will be the Sun 660 AFs or supercolor 670 AFs overall as they have the option to shut off the flash (by pulling the trigger behind the shutter button) and have the sonar focus overrided with a button on the lid (hold it as your taking your photo)

HOWEVER while the Impulse AF might not allow you to turn off the flash or sonar foucs it its one of the few vintage models that have a built in 10 second timer that you can still get film for, and a signifgantly better view finder

all in a slightly sleeker ever so distinctive late 80s early 90s consumer electronics vibe that no retro revival has ever been able to replicate so if that is worth the compromise get one of those (or both its nice to have options but you do not need a 660 and a 670 thats redundant) definately a solid option as well

WHY IS ONE SUN ONE SUPER COLOR SOME ARE LIGHTMIXERS SOME SAY SE WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

marketing terms no functional difference otherwise.

so how big a difference does the Sonar AF make well quite a serious difference

WAIT IM AN ASPIRING GEEK NOW WHATS THE SX-70 PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW!

ugh okay

The SX-70 (this also applies to the 600 film equivalant 680) with sonar AF is arguably the best of the vintage polaroids but any SX-70s is great, glass lenses with manual focus control or on later models sonar focus, you look out the same lens thats taking the pic so you dont have to compensate at all when framing your pic like on a regular Polaroids and worst of all its the camera of choice for the "UUh Acktually" enthusiasts that gatekeep a good expierance with Polaroids away from people who just want to have a decent time without making it their personality so you know what that means!!! yep these are are so gloated and prized about these are the only style vintage polaroids that arent limited edition that frequently go well above the price of the brand new Polaroids no matter how shit the condition sometimes even tripple due to scalping thus these are expensive as all hell, awkward to hold and a pain in the ass to get meanwhile these things need to be modded to accept some modern films specialty flash packs with extra batteries and a bunch of other random little things that make it annoying to use that ill bother to learn about if i see one for under $50 and feel like buying it that day.

SWEET I GOT MY SONAR AUTOFOCUS 660/670/IMPULSE POLAROID HOW DO I GET A GOOD SHOT WITH IT

like i said at the start of this modern Polaroid film is tempermental and despite how much they tell you its light sensitive its not sensitve enough! when i said way back that there is a light meter in them, there is and there is an accompanying slide bar that makes it expose the film longer or shorter in addition to the automatic light meter

when you take a photo using the default exposure "slider in the middle" you will get a underexposed film as an end result see below

this was taken on my Sun 660 AF SE and while i got super sharp detail that made my eyes cry when i first saw it because up to this time ive only dealt with fix focused cameras. it was WAY dark so i moved the exposure compensation up a few times to

There and and the end result was

DETAIL, COLOR, EVERHING YOU COULD WANT IN A MODERN DAY POLAROID PIC and better yet entirely repeatable.

(note other pics i trialed and errored had just as good results with the adjuster sitting at the base of the arrow but not as wow as this)

IF ITS COLD/ HOT OUTSIDE DOES THAT AFFECT THE FILM

yes too cold film or too hot film will make the phots come out a pale blue if its cold or a pale magenta if its hot (which is very meta) while some people take advantage of this to make monocromatic film in an artsy way you might not want to so keep that in mind you need to keep the film in a comfortable temprature zone of

55 – 82° Freedom units

13 – 28° Complementary Healthcare units

getting a bag that has a insulated space for a cold pack can help in the heat but if its cold out you can do the same as above but with a hot pack OR when you take the photo as soon as the fiolm is finshed being ejected out take it out and put it right into your pocket or in your coat under your arm to warm it up during the development stage. really old Polaroid cameras used to come with a "cold clip" for this exact use

CAN I USE ONE FILM CASETTE FOR MORE THAN ONE CAMERA ONCE ITS BEEN PUT IN A CAMERA THIS SHITS KINDA EXPENSIVE

absolutely... not without damaging the top two sheets of film (thus 1/4 or .25% of the casette a total loss), just accept that once the film is installed its committed to that camera dont worry for the intrusive thougts I have examples of what happens the pic on the right was the exposure at the top of the casette and the left was the one after it. i swapped the casette in a fairly dark car at night and what you see on the left is a sonar auto focus camera trying to take a pic of some street lights through a window on damaged film.

ARE THERE ANY THINGS I MUST CONSIDER THAT I WOULDNT THINK ABOUT OVERTLY OTHERWISE

Yes just like being a fan of Taylor Swift there is a underlying level of ecological damage that you might be doing but is realistically negligable when compared to the environmental damage unregulated and underegulated industries produce and when compared to general overconsumption waste things like fast fashion and water bottle trends produce (and is 100% lead free).

Polaroid 600 and SX film Cassettes that Polaroid film is stored in are made of 3 main pieces, the plastic shell, metal spring piece (both parts of which can be recycled) and a lithium ion battery that is used to operate the camera, now there is a way to recycle them that involves breaking out the plastic front and seperating out the metal piece to put into the recycle and taking the battery to recycle at a place that recycles lith-ion batteries, however if you do not have such facilities available to you unfortunately it kinda becomes a chuck it in the trash thing. but keep in mind your maybe half a dozen or so film cartridges or cartridge batteries that wind up in the trash over a year or so arent going to add in any meaningful or impactful way to the the cause of global climate change or detonate thermonuclear bombs of battery acid onto baby seaturtles or anything like that even when millions of people are doing it too. so its entirely up to you to your own concious and/or ability to recycle them

HOWEVER if you want a battery free casette option so you can recycle more easily you can get one of the 2017 Polaroid OneStep 2 or One Step 2+ Cameras that use a built in rechargeable battery and you can get the I-Type film that does not have a battery in the casette keep in mind these cameras are discontinued and as a result of being one of the only good post-polaroid closure instant cameras under the Polaroid name they are being scalped online as far as prices go

I HOPE YOU FOUND THIS INFOGUIDE HELPFUL AND THANK YOU FOR READING

THE TLDR

new polaroid film wil alway be warm hued and unexposed and as for polaroid cameras available in stores new ones suck, most of the retro are meh ,to expensive for no reason. Buy a polaroid sun 660 af or supercolor 670 af but if you dont want to be able to shoot without flash or shoot through glass by turning off the auto focus and would like a 10 second timer instead get a the Impulse AF and slam up the exposure to very nearly all the way up to where the adjuster is on the arrow's middle or lower half if you want a model that has a rechargeable battery instead of a battery in the film casette to reduce e-waste and make it easier to recycle get a 2017 Polaroid Originals One Step2 or One Step2 + to use the battery free I-type film

#polaroid #instant film #beginners guide #instant photography #fuck gatekeeping #the impossible project #vintge cameras #polaroid cameras #fujifilm #film photography #film is not dead #film camera #how to guide #so much information #informative #info post #helpful #useful #wall of text #80s aesthetic #90s aesthetic #80s nostalgia #90s nostalgia #one step #instax #sx-70 #Impulse #for the spite #wall of text with pictures #polaroid better fucking sponser me for this shit

[smilesvt]

the little magic music shop

hoshi x reader

genre: FLUFFFF

warnings: none really ! a lil bit of sadness, hoshi just being cute

8:32am. he was late, again. i had gotten used to it by now; there was really no point setting up meeting times with hoshi.

he always seemed to have some sort of excuse : 'i woke up late' 'i ran out of toothpaste' ' my hairdryer broke'. as i sat on the bench waiting, i wondered what he was going to come up with today.

a couple moments later, a bike skidded to a halt at my feet. looking up, the rider flashed a sheepish smile at me, rubbing the back of his neck.

'you’re-’

'late again. i know.' he finished my sentence.

'this time my hairdryer actually did break.' he pointed at the damp, curly mess atop his head. i sighed.

'at least i know what to get you for your birthday then .' i joked, sitting down on the back of the bike and smacking his arm.

'and for that, you can work the till today.'

'no PLEASE-' however i couldnt finish my sentence, as hoshi abruptly began pedaling away as i scrambled to hold onto his waist.

this was our daily commute to work: me on the back of hoshis trusty old bike that i had got him for his 18th birthday. we knew this route like the back of our hands, yet i never got bored of it. the morning breeze blew through our hair, and the sun was bathing the streets with pinks and oranges.

before we started working, neither of us had enough money to even buy bus fare with. hence why hoshi began picking me up and dropping me off at our designated spot.

and although we can afford it now, hoshis never mentioned stopping this daily occurrence , so i guess it'll carry on till his legs get too weak to carry us both.

~~~

'hey could you tie the bike up? i have to pop in somewhere quickly-' hoshi asked, braking outside our workplace and quickly jumping off.

i pretended to not see him rush into the bakery next door, assuming he wanted to surprise me.

sure enough, as i finished tying the bike around the lamp post, i turned around to see a satsified hoshi step out of the bakery door. his toothy grin seemed to be sparkling in the sunlight, and he rushed over to me, his eyes glinting.

'here's a lovely pastry for the equally lovely lady' he bowed slightly, handing me one of the bags.

'and a warm baguette for the handsome gentleman.' he wiggled his eyebrows, and i couldn't help but laugh at how dorky he is.

'why thank you good sir. should we head in now?' i giggled and gestured to the shop door and he nodded.

i fumbled around with the keys and managed to open the door.

'ah, home sweet home.' hoshi sighed, walking over to hang his backpack on the coat hooks.

we worked in a music store, as we had been doing for about 3 years now.

hoshi was right: it really was like our home. the store had belonged to his mother, and it was her gift to him before she moved away. as much as he resented her, he decided to keep the small business going. and of course, being hoshi's bestfriend and music being my passion, i wanted to help him out as much as i could.

the work pace was slow, with only the occassional customer coming in to buy vinyl for a loved one, or random teenage girls coming in and browsing at seemingly nothing. days were long and tedious, yet i wouldn't give it up for the world. something about the late candlelit nights with slow jazz playing in the back whilst i read and hoshi sang made it all worth it.

'deep in thought?' hoshi questioned, breaking me out of my reminiscing.

'just remembered something, dont worry.' i smiled at him.

he smiled back, curled up on the sofa we had once randomly found outside someones house. i remember us dragging it down the street in the pouring rain, our clothes soaked and muscles aching, until some nice man offered to pick it up for us. all was well, until we struggled to fit it through the door. i chuckled to myself at the memory: i seemed to be feeling nostalgic today.

'you seem to be in a good mood today love.' he spoke, though muffled, his mouth full of bread.

'and you seem to be a mess today.' i chuckled as i sat down next to him.

he jokingly rolled his eyes. 'shut up and eat.'

and we did, the silence only being broken by chirping birds or us bursting out laughing when we made eye contact. the pastry was my favourite flavour too: he always seemed to know these little things about me that i can never recall ever telling him.

however our eating was cut short by a surprising ring as the door to the store opened and a man walked in. we both shot up as i hurried to wipe the crumbs off my skirt.

'm-morning sir.' hoshi began to approach the older man, yet i noticed his face covered in bread. i quickly pulled him to me by the front of his shirt and wiped his cheeks.

'nearly embarrased yourself.' i tutted.

'i can always count on you honey' he flashed a smile at me and walked off to the customer, his upbeat, friendly persona swiftly showing as he spoke, 'how can i help you on this fine gorgeous day sir?'

i smiled to myself as i walked behind the counter, watching him talk away with the gentlemen, his smile never fading.

~~~

the rest of the day went by as always: only a few more people walked in and out, and it was beginning to grow dark.

'$90 today, not too shabby.' hoshi nodded as he counted the cash from the till.

'pretty good.' i agreed, lighting the last candle at the front of the store. the weather outside seemed to have gotten worse since i last checked, the rain now pattering against the window.

'are you still saving up for the new bike'?

'yeah, but ive got a little while left till i can afford it.' he chuckled, although solemnly.

'you know, we can always get the bus now.' i replied, laying down onto the sofa.

hoshi looked at me and laughed.

'never. not until i get old and cant pedal anymore anyways. what about your camera?'

'ill get it...someday.'

we made eye contact and laughed again.

the rain seemed to be getting louder, and hoshi sat onto a stool opposite from me. the low buzz of the radio seemed to be interrupted by talking, and he turned it up for us both to hear.

'torrential downpour... imagine we get stuck in here AGAIN.' i sighed.

'i mean it wouldnt be awful-'

'you dont remember last year when we got snowed in?'

it was awful. the snow was so high we couldn’t see out of our shop window. hoshi cried but i decided not to remind him. either way, we nearly ran out of food and had to huddle together for warmth. awful.

‘i mean, at least we had each other.’ he shrugged. i guess he was right: without him dancing and making it really awkward when we hugged i probably would have got frostbite.

‘60s soft jazz or 90s rock-indie?’ hoshi suddenly asked, stood in the corner of the store holding two vinyls.

‘hmmm... definitely soft jazz.’ i sat up from the sofa.

he smiled. ‘i should’ve known. you’ve always been after my own heart.’

i felt my cheeks flare up and a small smile forming at my mouth.

‘y’know, this is where my parents met.’ hoshi spoke, staring out the window as the smooth sounds of a swing band began to play.

‘this shop?’

‘yup. my mom worked here and one day, a fairly handsome man walked in. safe to say, after he kept coming in everyday my mum seemed to get the hint.’

‘did your dad like music?’

‘he was a musician. in a band. they never got anywhere or did much , but he really enjoyed it.’

he never spoke about his father much, so hearing this was all new to me. his voice seemed to be breaking every couple words.

‘im sure he’s proud of you, wherever he is.’

‘i’d like to think so too. after all, he’s the reason i always wanted to go to music school.’ my heart shattered at those words as i saw hoshi look down at his feet.

music school. his dream. i knew this was a touchy subject, so we never talked about it much. but i knew how much it hurt: hoshi had always talked about becoming a singer and dancer, performing up on stage with his loved ones and showing his passion to his fans.

so when the fees grew too big for a lone teen to afford, he knew he had to let it go. i remember feeding him when he refused to eat, as he blamed it all on himself. and since then, i made a promise to myself: always make sure hoshi has a smile on his face. that smile that i love the most. the smile that brights up even my worst days.

i walked over to where he was stood and placed my hand on his shoulder.

‘your still young. you have time.’

he looked down at me and smiled, ruffling the back of my hair.

‘but id rather be here.’

‘here?’

‘yup. i used to hate the place. it reminded me of my mom. but now-‘

he stopped and turned to face me.

‘it reminds me of us.’

‘u-us?’

i internally cursed at myself for being so awkward. i was never good with things like this, especially not from my best friend.

thankfully, he laughed as he held my hands .

‘yes us.’

he gently swayed them from side to side, in time with the piano softly playing in the background.

‘if your about to dance with me-‘

‘i know i know ‘you cant dance’ but-‘

he placed an arm around my waist and held the other one behind my head.

it was a warmth i had never experienced before. the feeling of a touch that i could never describe.

i placed my head on his chest. and suddenly, everything felt like it was supposed to feel. maybe he was right. maybe i did want to be here. with just the two of us.

we swayed to the slow rhythm of the jazz band, his feet and body guiding mine as he cradled me in his arms.

and as the streetlight bathed our intertwined bodies in a hazy glow, and the rain fell at the beats of our matching hearts, it felt right.

like our fate was

at our lil magic music shop.

#hoshi #hoshi fluff #hoshi imagines #hoshi seventeen #hoshi svt #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines

[moregaythanyourealized]

Lunch Break

Alphonso Hargreaves x GN!Reader

Warnings: none

For the hottest day of the year he still wore a long sleeve shirt and pants. His insecurities made you sad. He would never say it but he envied his siblings. They all were normal, or at least normal-er. Alphonso was many things, funny, charming and hell, even confident. But secure in his looks was not one of them. He got used to the way he looked but he never had those moments where he looked in the mirror and really admired himself.

You two had met on accident when he came to the antique shop where you worked. He needed space from his siblings, Fei, Ben, and Jayme were all so pessimistic and cold. Marcus and Christopher only ever wanted to work. And Sloane was doing whatever she did every day. He was alone and could finally breathe. The smell of old furniture and books was something he didn’t think he’d grow to love, but there you were. Cleaning antique lamps and trying to get the cigarette smell out of old carpets.

“You should try white vinegar and lavender oil-for the smell.” The shop was so quiet, his voice came out as a shout. Spooking you and knocking over your cleaning spray,

“Aw shit, I’m sorry. Let me help.”

Kneeling down by your side he reached for the ruined merchandise, now bleached with…bleach,

“Hey, you’re um, a sparrow right? I’m Y/n. Why are you here and not like saving the world?” He made eye contact, you didn’t look away from his features, you smiled softly and stood up. Alphonso followed you to the register and put the stuff on the counter, trying to play it cool,

“I’m on a break, just chillin’ ”

Oh god why did I say it like that

His eyes followed you around. You glanced at the clock and then back at him,

“Well I’m about to go on break, wanna break together?” Alphonso couldn’t believe it,

“Yes! But speaking of breaking, what about the stuff I ruined? Doesn’t that cost money?” His new friend just smiled and shrugged,

“I’ll figure it out when I get back, as of ten seconds ago I am no longer working.” You took off your name tag and walked past him through the shaded glass and into the sun.

The heat was nearly unbearable. It would’ve been worse if Alphonso hadn’t offered to buy you both ice cream to make up for the accident. While he payed the man you saw a giant ad across the street. 6 siblings.

No Alphonso.

“Why aren’t you up on the billboard with them?” He just laughed,

“Are you kidding? If they put my face on a bill board it would scare everyone away. Its bad for business.” You used your hand to block out the sun and glare at the gigantic advertisement for his brothers and sisters,

“Business or not, you’re their family and a part of the team. You deserve recognition for that, Alphie.” He seemed stunned by your words and stood quietly holding both your ice cream cones. He only stopped daydreaming when the dessert began to drip on his hand,

“Oh shit.” He laughed and licked the bit of ice cream off his wrist before handing you your cone.

The excursion ended when you walked the park length and made it back to the antique store. You both stood still not wanting to depart but not wanting to stay too long in fear of making it awkward,

“How’s you know about that trick with the cigarette smell?”

“My sister Fei used to smoke as a teen and would have me help her get rid of the smell.” You opened the door and kept your back to him,

“Come back again sometime, this was nice.”

——————————————————

“You’re late, where the hell were you?” Marcus ushered him inside,

“He was with someone.” Fei sneered. The siblings began asking questions and interrogating him about his afternoon off,

“Are they hot?” “Can we trust them?” “You didn’t talk to them did you?” “What makes you think they’re actually interested?”

“It’s not a big deal! I took a walk and lost track of time okay? Get off my back.” Number four let his siblings sit with their discomfort about this newcomer in their brothers life. It didn’t matter what they thought. Alphonso had plans already.

He logged into his computer and typed in a search: How to fix antique furniture

#fanfic writing #tua season three #tua 3 #tua x reader #alphonso hargreeves #alphonso hargreeves x reader #tua fic #meet cute #the sparrow academy #the umbrella academy

[missgineaus]

got7 title track aesthetics (pt i — 2014)

(jjp — 2012) bounce: purposely mismatching socks, using half a jar of hair gel, the adrenaline of successfully pulling off a skate trick, secret bff handshakes, faux leather jackets in neon colors with studs in the shoulders, poking yourself with spiky jewelry, bleaching your hair in your bathtub at 3 am knowing your mom’s gonna yell at you in the morning, squishing blown up capri sun packets, coloring in your nails with almost dried out highlighters

girls girls girls: personalized skateboards completely covered in stickers,  Sweg™, the final school bell ringing, hiding nose piercings from teachers and parents, secret handshakes with friends that involve dance moves, rich boy clique, getting frosted tips, pulling out a comb from your jacket breast pocket, wearing an excessive amount of gold chains, looking over and sending a wink and fingers guns to your crush

a: dropping ice cream on your lap, convenience stores in the summer, walking into lamp posts accidentally, denim -denim everywhere, your friends nudging you whenever your crush walks by, going to summer night car shows, the-boys-are-back-from-hsm3.mp3, walking down the street with your collar popped, owning nothing but timberlands, “what are you wearing jake from state farm? uh khakis?”, eating the chips out of the bag before you buy them

around the world: think fake snakeskin looks real, wearing leather pants in summer for the aesthetic, running around the city pretending you’re the power rangers fighting the putty patrol, teenage camo phase, daydreaming about being a magical girl in class, doing graffiti but it’s actually just painting a heart on a wall, doing flips in the classroom during inside recess when the teacher isn’t watching, hitting the chalkboard erasers together in front of your friends face

stop stop it: multiple pairs of vans sneakers, “why did you let me go in public with hair like that?!”,  slouching low in your seat bobbing your head to the music, thinking about your crush so hard that someone has to smack you to get your attention, wearing black when something mildly inconvenient happens, hanging out with your friends on a school night, throwing paper balls at your friends in detention when the teacher leaves the room, letting your hair drape a certain way to hide the earphones in your ears

original twitter post | originally posted 24 july 2019

#got7 #got7 title tracks #got7 aesthetics #jjp

[be-good-be-safe-be-kind]

mkcember 7: chanukah sameach

[ steven learns about the holiday | 1445 words ]

✨ ✡️ 🌙 ✨ ✡️ 🌙 ✨ ✡️ 🌙 ✨ ✡️ 🌙

steven nestles himself into the little alcove between his mattress and the wall, breathing out a sigh of relief. the fading sun casts enough natural light into the room to illuminate the books around him, and he has plenty of lamps to provide a soft, gentle glow, lending a warm atmosphere to the room. london isn't as cold as manhattan, but winter is winter nonetheless, dark and dreary, leading steven to prioritise comfort in every possible area lest he slip back into depression.

marc had initially been a bit of a grump about the flat, muttering that it's unnecessarily crowded and if you're going to insist on sleeping here, at least buy a fucking bed, but after the duat, steven understands marc's poor attitude. the walls aren't entirely bare and sterile, not like the asylum, but the colors.... yeah, steven sees it now, they are a bit like the house in chicago. the decor is different, but the ladders and the lattice resemble khonshu's temple, and while the structure allows steven the feeling of being sheltered without being suffocated, marc experiences those feelings in reverse.

i'm sorry, mate. if i had known, if i had been paying attention -

-no, steven. don't ever apologize for recognizing your need for safety.

he sighs again as he opens the first of a dozen books he's found on the new topic of interest, flipping to the indexes at the end in search of a particular name. alexander the great. start with familiar territory. steven reads calmly for a few minutes, muttering under his breath and occasionally scribbling notes on a pad of paper, until there's an itch in the back of his skull and a dull pain building in his forehead.

pick up a different book.

the command is insistent, rough even by marc's standards, and steven can feel someone pacing in his mind.

"marc?" he tentatively asks.

the sound of approaching footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts for a moment. he lifts up his head, surprised to find layla settling down in an armchair, although he knows she's been here all day.

"you boys doing all right?" layla's voice is familiar, grounding, but steven can't help the way his lips twitch into a frown.

"i... i dunno," he admits, "i don't know all that much about egypt and the surrounding territories from after the hellenistic period, and i was just curious about the mediterranean influence on the culture, that's all."

"i see," layla says evenly, "and when you say you don't know much, how little are we talking?"

the pain in his forehead grows steadily, almost like marc is trying to push himself into the front and reroute steven's thoughts. not now, please. "erm, very little?"

"well, that explains it," layla mutters, as if the answer is really that obvious.

"i'm missing something here."

no shit, sherlock.

"well, then help me figure it out, instead of being rude."

"i'm going to assume that wasn't directed at me," layla says with a small smile.

steven blushes and nods, mumbling an apology. his hands reach for the chain around his neck, and a flash of realization dawns on him as he fidgets with it.

the magen david. a symbol that has been recognised in connection with the jewish people since at least the 16th century, which now has affiliations with the temple menorah from biblical times. people often confuse the temple menorah with the modern chanukiah, which is lit for the duration of the chanukah holiday, commemorating the miracle which took place during the seleucid rule of the hellenistic period.  

steven experiences these thoughts in a similar way to how he reads old books; the information is vaguely familiar, vaguely connected to memories, but mostly it's a list of facts which he can recall with little emotional context behind them. he looks up at layla, to gauge her reaction as to whether or not he's spoken aloud again, and her twinkling eyes and sad smile tell him all he needs to know. 

"marc is… well, the holiday season can be difficult for some people, and he doesn't handle fire all that well," she adds as the historical aspects continue to play in the background of his mind. 

that's putting it mildly. 

images of colorful birthday candles melting into wax puddles on poorly frosted cakes coincide with similar candles being lit in front of an oil lamp with eight branches. the smell of burnt flesh and the taste of blood in his mouth as he bites his tongue enter the picture, and marc's forearm stings and he needs to get ice on it, now, and she won't stop yelling, and now there's a sharp burst of pain on the small of his back and - 

- and steven is sat in his corner, knees up to his chest, clutching his right arm. his vision is blurred by tears, but he can sense layla's concern as she places a water bottle beside him. 

"i didn't know," steven mumbles. "i didn't even realise the holiday starts tonight." the sun has set, leaving the room mostly in darkness, and suddenly there's nothing he wants more in the world than to light a chanukiah.

we can do that, steven.

but… but those horrible memories.

as much as i want them to stay in the past, they're gonna keep coming back. if we're gonna wait for every awful association to go away, we're never gonna leave this apartment. don't let my baggage hold you back.

"it's okay," layla's words drift into his consciousness, "i'll be here, no matter what you decide."

you know, i never did thank you for preventing the divorce.  

steven relaxes as he drinks his water, slowly, trying to calm his mind and settle on a compromise. his eyes roam around the flat, and settle on the shelf above the kettle. the lights - they don't need to have big flames, right?

i think they're just meant to burn for an hour?

there's an undercurrent of excitement beneath marc's hesitation, and it's enough to pull steven to his feet and walk towards the kitchen. 

"lavender and lemon scented tea lights," layla reads the tin as steven passes it to her, "a unique choice; i like it!"

her casual acceptance, the way she moves easily through the apartment as if she lives there, causes marc's heart to skip a beat too quickly. are you certain that you don't want to be here for the ceremony? layla won't mind lighting the candles for you, and i'm happy to take a step back.

there's a faint hum in the back of his head, where the itch had been minutes earlier, as if marc is considering the offer. i've had enough holiday memories for at least one lifetime. it's time for you to have some of your own, don't you think?

"all right," steven agrees, "let's do this."

marc guides him to a bookshelf and helps him move the paperbacks to the side, revealing a set of worn, leather-bound books. layla sets a piece of aluminium foil by the window, placing three of the pale purple tea lights and a matchbook on top, as steven carefully finds the proper book. he's pleasantly surprised to discover that he can recognize the hebrew letters and their sounds, even if he can't understand the words, and soon he has the blessing for lighting the candles open in front of him. 

"i know we're meant to have a shamash," layla says, gesturing to the candles, "but this is the best i could do on short notice." two of the tea lights are stacked atop each other, while the third is a few centimeters to the right.

"it's perfect, layla, thank you." she takes the prayer book from him, holding it open to the blessings as he picks up the matchbook and takes out a match, letting the minuscule weight of it settle into his fingertips. "i suppose i should light the shamash, then say the blessings and light the candle?"

"i suppose so," layla answers as a voice within steven's head replies in hebrew. 

steven takes a deep breath before striking the match. the impromptu shamash begins emitting a soothing aroma, and steven's confidence grows. he snuffs out the match and takes out another one to light the candle. he recites the blessings, carefully pronouncing each word, and a calm settles over him with each one. 

he nods at layla when he's done; she closes the book and places a delicate kiss on its cover before putting it on a side table. they stand in comfortable silence together for a moment, watching the tiny lights flicker and stay strong.

chag chanukah sameach, steven.

#🌙 #📝 #✡️

[lotusthewriter]

Beaming Sunlight

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Rating: G

Relationships: Alphonse & Edward

Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric; MENTIONED - Winry Rockbell, Pinako Rockbell

Summary: Maybe Al is still asleep. Maybe that’s why he didn’t answer earlier.

Ed sighs in relief, heading to the kitchen to leave the groceries, so he can go to his and Al’s bedroom to check on him.

He stops dead in his tracks.

Near the phone lies…

“... ALPHONSE!”

Word count: 1.225

AO3 / Fanfiction

TRIGGER WARNINGS - flashbacks and implied past character death

DO NOT SHIP THE ELRIC BROTHERS. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

He shouldn’t have left home.

They already had plans to spend the weekend at Rush Valley, only for Alphonse to decline. Which meant he would rather spend the entire weekend alone. Edward knows his brother better than anyone else; Al is the last person to ever want to be alone.

Ed should’ve trusted his gut and not gone with Winry and Granny. Hence why, thanks to Winry’s encouragement, he decided to head back home. Especially after he did try to call Al, receiving no answer from the other end.

After a trip that felt absurdly long, the once Fullmetal Alchemist buys some groceries to make Al some food. He knows he can’t keep babying his brother forever, now that Al is learning how to walk by himself, yet Al was acting so strange last night. He was… distant, sad, and tired. Ed noticed and still ignored it. He can only hope nothing went horribly wrong.

When the Rockbell house is close enough, it feels as though the remaining distance has grown bigger, like he’s in a dream.

And when Ed does arrive at the door, he hesitates.

He doesn’t know why this feels so familiar.

Either way, he goes in.

The house is dark. As in, the curtains must still be hiding the sunlight.

Maybe Al is still asleep. Maybe that’s why he didn’t answer earlier.

Ed sighs in relief, heading to the kitchen to leave the groceries, so he can go to his and Al’s bedroom to check on him.

He stops dead in his tracks.

Near the phone lies…

“... ALPHONSE!”

Ed has dropped the groceries and rushed to him, desperately taking him in his arms. Al looks much worse than he did last night, so, so pale. He looks lifeless, even though his heart is still beating as Ed checks on it.

“Al,” he begs, shaking the other boy desperately, “Al, can you hear me? Al?!”

There’s… a small cough. Eyes that barely open.

“Br… other…?” Al asks, confused. “You’re… back?”

“Yes, of course I am.”

Al, however, shakes his head.

“You… shouldn’t… have.”

He blacks out again.

“Alphonse,” Ed shakes him once more. “Al!”

Nothing.

The older Elric puts a hand on the other’s neck, flinching like it’s boiling.

Shit. He’s really sick.

Al has been sick this entire time and Ed was too stupid to–

No. No, he can’t blame himself. He needs to call a doctor. And of course, he needs to call Winry and Granny to let them know.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Ed promises his little brother, even if he can’t hear him. “You’re going to be okay, Al. I’ve got you.”

Al doesn’t move while Ed carries him to their room.

The latter wants to not cry.

But it’s impossible.

--

… Macaroni.

It smells good.

Simple but tasty.

Al’s vision is blurry, only acknowledging a warm, soft lamp illuminating the room. He’s aware the sun is strong outside, hence why he… didn’t open the curtains…

Wait.

Why is he in bed?

He doesn’t remember coming back here.

The last thing he does remember was the phone ringing downstairs, and him on his way to pick it up. Nothing after that.

If he blacked out, then… who carried him to bed?

Alphonse hears… someone speaking downstairs. Maybe to the phone, because soon enough he can make it to the noise, indicating that the call is over.

Then, he hears said person rushing upstairs.

… sniffing.

Al immediately sits up, which makes his vision darken suddenly. His head feels heavy.

“Hey, easy!” Edward orders, then softly, “Easy.”

He makes Al lie down again, gently.

“Brother, what are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be in Rush Valley?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ed looks terrible, tear-stained. “Are you feeling okay?”

Al hums. “Head hurts.”

“I can tell.” His brother is touching his cheeks, both to check on his temperature, and to make sure he’s there. “Are you hungry?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Okay.” Ed reveals a plate of macaroni indeed, and he puts it on the bedside table, preparing the fork.

“Brother, I can eat it myself.”

“Oh, after you quite literally passed out? I don’t think so.”

Al gulps, even though Ed doesn’t actually sound angry despite the comment. The former is also too sick to protest, so he allows Ed to help him eat, which brings him back to the days at the hospital. Ed also gives Al a glass of water to take a sip every now and then.

“You’re taking medicine later, okay?” He tells Al. “I called a doctor while you were asleep.”

“Okay.” When Ed gives him another piece of food, Al shakes his head. “I think I’m good.”

“Alright.”

Al nervously looks away from his older brother’s concerned frown, already knowing what he’s going to ask.

“... why didn’t you tell me?”

Alphonse sighs.

“I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Ed is taking one of his hands.

“Al, you could never get in my way.”

“I mean, you were all so excited to go to Rush Valley, I didn’t want to ruin your trip.”

“Al…”

The sick boy is tearing up.

“It’s true, Brother,” Al sobs quietly. “I’m just a burden.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You always have to sacrifice things for me.”

“Well… yeah. But it’s worth it.”

“Why?” Al looks back.

Ed’s eyes are glowing with tears, too.

“Because you’re worth it. And you’re sick, Al. You don’t deserve to be alone for being sick.”

Al contemplates.

“I… don’t have to be useful?”

“No,” Ed answers obviously.

Indeed, it should be obvious, right?

“Al… I know you were taught to believe that while you were an armor,” Ed says like he’s reading his mind. “I know back then you couldn’t focus on yourself. I want you to know that it’s okay to prioritize yourself, especially now that you’re human again. You get to be human now, Alphonse.”

He gets to be human now.

Al cries harder.

Ed hugs him.

The other clings to him like a little kid. It also feels like Ed is hugging him in relief.

Al sniffs, “I-I’m sorry for w-worrying you, Brother.”

Edward sighs. “I’m always going to worry about you, Al. That’s not really your fault.” He pauses. “Just promise me you’re going to tell me when you get sick, okay?”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Good.” Ed is the one that sobs now.

It hits Al, then.

How his brother must have felt finding Al unconscious downstairs. How familiar it must have been for him…

“I’m sorry,” Alphonse repeats.

Ed tenses, probably realizing the meaning of the apology.

Thus, he squeezes Al a little tighter.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”

“Yeah,” Al smiles sadly on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That seems to reassure his big brother, since he relaxes for once.

Al doesn’t want to let go. Not yet.

Or ever.

But he doesn’t want to force Ed, either, not with him being sick.

Yet apparently, with his older brother instincts…

“Hey, scoot over, will you?”

“But… I’m sick,” Al argues.

“Well, you need me, Al. I’m not going to leave you.”

“But what if you get sick?”

“I’m gonna be fine.”

“Brother.”

“It’s okay, Al. Really.”

Al hates that he wants Ed to stay and hug him. He hates that he doesn’t want to be alone.

But… It's okay to be human.

For both of them.

#fullmetal alchemist #alphonse elric #edward elric #fanfiction #death mention tw #sickfic #hurt/comfort

[raffyperez]

bury me not on the lone prarie ; western / cowboy au for rafael & violet.

it's a far cry from the lonesome desert landscapes rafael is so used to inhabiting, fertile ground lush with grass and thick oak forests populated by deer, bears, pheasant. calamity whinnies as a squirrel crosses their path, running after another. a town is up on the horizon, where the made dirt track through the winding valleys and mountains fades into thick mud from many a cart wheel crossing over; once, duck boards were put down so ladies in their finery could safely cross the way but the cloying mire in the middle of the road had soon swallowed them to. the buildings are sturdy wood, though not huge, it contains the necessities for a man like himself – a general store, a physician, a gun shop, a hotel with a bath service, stables and the most important of the three, a bar. there’s a church to but, while his pa was a big believer in the almighty, the only religion he’s been able to follow is that of bounty justice. the latter is a grand two storey building, saloon doors swinging as folks make their way in and out. as the sun sets, the music and laughter seem to get louder, carried on the wind to rafael who is slowly making his approach. hooves make soft thuds, the jostle of hindquarters causing metal to hit metal, rafael's belt against the bullets he keeps strapped to his chest.

by the time he comes into town it's darker still, winter nights drawing in the night and the cold. more flock to the saloon, some hang around outside, men with the women they're soft on, a few drunk and hung over the edge of the hitching post. the entrance is illuminated by small electric lamps, and rafael climbs off calamity as he ties her up outside. the animal whinnies again, blowing air from her nostrils before leaning in to drink from the filled trough infront of her. raf looks at the mud against her legs and rear - he needs to get her to a stable tomorrow for a proper clean. healthy horse, healthy travels, an old timer once told him enthuastically. he hadn't been wrong. he enters the unfamiliar environment, the noise from outside seemingly turned up. there are songs playing, someone at the piano, women laughing, men squabbling over small tables. In a corner, a large group silently glares at eachother, cards in hand for a game of poker. one of them has bet his horse, another a plot of land where he intended to buy a house - only fools bet what they don't have yet.

his boots thud heavily on the floor, spurs twanging, the bounty hunter dressed all in black makes his way to an empty portion of the bar. a few heads turn ; la muerte negra they whisper down south. Nobody this far north speaks the language, they stick to calling him perez. rafael dislikes that, both the moniker and his surname, taking a seat and raising a hand to get the attention of the barmaid. she's pretty, young, bright smile, the type that thrives in the wild environment a tavern brings. she'll break your heart.

"whiskey please missy," rafael asks her once she peels herself away from men who desperately call for more beer, more attention.

@violet-lamerton