#this is a general thing but also about the cat situation sorry i just woke up and it really pissed me off.

[megabuild]

it's actually so weird how people react with such vitriol to the slightest mention of minecraft youtubers like i used to be sympathetic about it because of the whole association with dream and so on but it's gotten to the point where if you've been made aware it's a rich and varied community and you still have that knee jerk reaction of "well they're lame, they're cringe, they're all ugly racist white boys" you are actually just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry. like if you cannot do that most basic level of separation like that there is something fundamentally unformed in your brain you should probably work on

#mine #discourse #i guess #this is a general thing but also about the cat situation sorry i just woke up and it really pissed me off. #im not rbing the post with the addition from op because frankly its just sad. but also im sour on the whole thing now. #id like if she won but what can you do.

[spiderfunkz]

✧.* silver soul

— summary : after everything that has happened, you try to live again, to try to forget and move on. but the thought of all the memories you've had with a specific redhead can't seem to get out of your head.

— pairings : natasha romanoff x gn!reader

— word count : 0,9k

— warnings : major character death, angst angst angst angsttttt, reader is an avenger (they're basically in clints position in that one scene), mentions of isolation, losing a loved one, depression, grief, nightmares, not getting enough sleep, pet names, foul language, let me know if i missed any, no happy ending.

a/n : this is so messy i am so sorry + sorry if some of the things mentioned don't add up to the timeline or just don't make sense in general :,) canons kinda off of the table this time & this is basically based off of silver soul by beach house. also english isn't my first language so expect some typos maybe (italics are memories/flashbacks)

🎵 it is happening again,

it's two am in the morning, your back aches as you sit up on your bed, trying to gain your energy back.

at this point, this has become a routine. waking up earlier than the whole of new york, sitting on your bed for a few minutes before all of the memories start to come back like stone hitting a window.

fuck, you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. when was the last time you had a good nights sleep? oh wait.

🎵 it is happening again,

the sun reflects on your soft skin as you woke up, groaning, pulling the sheets back up.

"morning, love." natasha whispered, kissing your cheek. "how did you sleep?"

"amazing." you smiled, "dreamt of you."

mornings like this is something you would always love, waking up in the perfect time and sharing the rest of the day with your perfect girlfriend.

"yeah?" — "mhm, dreamt that we had a house in the middle of flower fields with cats." you continued.

"someday we will, maybe when we get married. i promise." natasha replied, holding you close.

🎵 it is happening again oh,

'i promise.' it echoes through your mind, what if things never got that complicated? maybe you could've lived your life with nat.

but it didn't.

she broke your promise and you lost her. and the worst thing is that you can't do anything about it. you didn't have the power to do anything anymore.

you've lost yourself.

🎵 it is happening again,

it hurts to think about all the promises you've made with her. you're being dramatic maybe, but come on.

yes, you knew how hard you and nat's job were sometimes, but you've always found a way to manage it.

you loved it and hated it at the same time.

you loved how it saved you from the horrible place you came from, you loved the moments you spend in the tower, you love the family and memories it has given you, and you love the relationship that grew between you and nat.

but you hated how it took that away.

🎵 the bodies lying in the sand,

you would do anything in the whole universe to switch your positions in that moment.

sometimes you wake up hoping natasha's there beside you in your bed, as it was all just another nightmare.

but that never happened, your shared bed is now cold on one side. the kitchen that was once filled with the smell of nat's cooking is gone. the living room now felt dead, there was no more dry jokes to make you laugh, love notes that causes butterflies in your stomach, cuddling that makes you feel warm.

those are all just memories, moments that can't be shared again.

🎵 they're moving in the dark,

'a soul for a soul.'

your heart was beating rapidly. hanging on the edge of a cliff in vormir isn't what you had in mind.

especially when your holding your lover with every single muscle and energy you have.

"let me go."

you needed to think of something, you can't let go, not when you've spent every moment with her making promises and plans just for it to go away.

"let me go, y/n."

"no! no! just let me think nat, i can figure something out."

you always do, you've found ways to get out of certain situations your entire life, so why can't you think of one now?

tears were streaming down your face, your arms were burning to let go but you couldn't.

she could see the fear in your eyes, how your hands were starting to sweat.

"it's okay, love, it's okay." she repeated.

"please don't." you sobbed.

🎵 it is so quick to let us in, we feel it moving through our skin,

you yelled and yelled, cried and cried.

she was gone, actually.

you closed your eyes and try to muscle up all your strength and get back up to get the stone.

this is what she would've wanted, for all of this to end peacefully, to save millions of lives even if it meant her own.

"y/n wheres nat?"

fuck damn it.

you were trying your best to keep yourself together, but you didn't realize how badly this question could hit you.

the realisation in their faces made it worse.

you were all basically family.

you shook your head and sobbed, wishing that you could've just switch positions.

🎵 it's a sickness, infinite quickness,

you've attended her funeral and stayed there many times. talking to her as if she was still there. she was still there in you.

you've isolated yourself from everyone and everything for a month and maybe more.

the scene of her falling replaying in your head and nothing could shake the thought of it off.

sleep is just for nightmares that replay the same image, waking up now feels empty, showers are just attempts at drowning out all your thoughts, and living isn't that good anymore.

the memory box gathering dust in the corner of your room as you refuse to open it as it is too much for you.

everytime you try to open it you feel sick. you've tried contacting some of your friends for help but it was no use.

you've tried going to the gym to relieve stress but it just gave you memories of training with natasha.

for the whole month you've gotten out of your apartment 7 times.

2 times for groceries,

1 time for the gym,

2 times as an attempt to rebuild your relationship with your friends,

1 time to chat with clint,

and 1 time to just, try and live again.

even with all of the attempts you've made, a huge piece of you is still with natasha. and nothing could ever fix that.

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x you angst #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff blurb #marvel #marvel angst #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #black widow x gn!reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow angst

[cosmeww]

Okay so..

I present my addams! Rottmnt au oc

Hides my face in my hoodie anxiously and shakes

waves at @lackablazeical

Okok info dump time

I proofread this multiple times and had both donnie and finn proof read it but we're all super tired so im sorry if theres spelling mistakes or bad wording m(_ _;)m

Im super anxious and embarrased to post this but fuck it we ball!!! B)

BASIC INFO

8/Eight

He + any

17-18

Bi ftm

Turantula mutant

Autism, adhd, and bpd haver

APEARENCE

Eight is a primarily black fluffy spider. He has 6 arms along his torso, at the very begging of each joint theres dark orange fur, this is also applied at the top of his thighs where they connect to his hips. Despite him eating well, he's quite thin and lean, ribs and other bones being very visible under his fur.

He has bright yellow eyes that stand out in the dark, as well as eight of them.

What he wears

In the beggining:

He can be seen wearing absolutely nothing

After Donnie finds him:

A cream colored (why does that sound so weird to say..?????? Cream?? Cream?? Cream????) straight jacket and grey shorts. His arms are broken and cuffed behind his back, as well as a bit roughed up from him clawing at himself, though you can't see this unless his straight jacket was taken off.

ATRIBUTES

Despite his many eyes 8 has less than par eyesight. He is permanently seeing through the equivalent of a foggy mirror. Due to this he relies mainly on his hearing and other senses. He can sense movement and sound and relies on that more than what he actually see's.

Yes he can make webs. Yes he does it frequently. Yes he traps food in them.

Eight is carnivorous and eats small animals ranging from mice, rabbits, rats, squirrels, cats, and more.

He is very flexible, horrifically so, it's quite scary.

Stims a lot, physically and verbally ranging from flapping his arms to nawing on himself or anything around him.

Eight can also climb on walls and ceilings with ease.

His memory is messy and confusing, sometimes coming back to him in random bursts.

No he is not related to Bw at all he has never even heard of her.

He is very good at sewing :)

PERSONALITY

Eight is just a silly goofy little guy. He talks a lot about everything on his mind all the time. If he thinks it he'll say it. Due to his "talk first think later" mentality, he often snaps back with snarky comments unintentionally or is just plain rude without noticing because he's literally just speaking his mind. He's working on it. Despite this he is genuinely very caring and nice and just wants friends to talk to for hours even if all they'll do is just sit and listen.

LIKES AND DISLIKES

Likes:

Small spaces

Other bugs!! Both to eat and play with :)

The dark

Ishida & mona!!!

Sweaters

Climbing, running, just moving around in general

Talking

Making friends :D

Eating

Dislikes:

Wolves cats and coyotes (steal his food)

Quite people

Being hungry

Rain

Being restrained or in any situation where he can't move around

BACKSTORY

Eight remembers nothing from before he was turned or even how he was turned. He woke up in a forest as a spider mutant and just kind of rolled with it, living in the forest for a while before getting bored and lonely, so he decided to explore. In his exploration he came across the turtles massive fucking mansion and was like "OMG SO MANY HIDING SPACES!!!" and pretty much just crawled in through somewhere (maybe an open window or a vent) he wandered around only intending to stay for a bit then head back to where he called "home" until he heard ishida and was in aw "COOL PERSON!!!!! :DDD" so he stuck around to see him again and became the houses unknown pest control, in return for consuming all rodents and other small animals he covered every possible hiding place in webs.

On another day of saying hi to an unknowing ishida (I mean he literally just. Sat in the shadows and waved at ishida or to him a green and white blurry thing. It's like waving at a character on a tv lol) he got distracted and slipped up, not noticing donnie and pretty much unable to see where he was freaked out and got his ass caught.. Oh no... :( BOZO sorry anyways and then starts a new era of being restrained and the looming threat of losing his arms and eyes ^^

It's unsure why he has such an interest in Ishida, maybe it's admiration? Maybe he thinks he's pretty?? Or maybe he's just really fucking hungry and wants to eat him, he does eat rabbits after all.... :/// idc what you interpret it as or whatever!! I'll literally just go with whatever people would want more ><

Haha okay thats all uh yea twirls hair and makes myself sick of anxiety 😞

To whoever see's this i hope u like and don't think im weird :3

#addams! tmnt au #rottmnt au #addams! rottmnt au oc #Oc for au #my art #rottmnt #au oc #digital art #addams!rottmnt au #addams! donnie #addams! ishida #addams! mona #tagging them because i mention them but let me know if i should untag and i will^^ #meows anxiously #art #infodump

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

(This is part of my dreams from last night, the part that made me kind of wake up in a cold sweat by the end. I feel kind of silly being so spooked when I woke, but still. I have a huge fear about stalking and traditionally yandere behaviours because this kind of stuff can happen IRL and I've heard so many horror stories in general, so this one kind of hit too hard despite having weird and wonky dream/nightmare logic, so obviously not everything fits in realistically.

Anyways, a few warnings for this one like: unhealthy, obsessive, and abusive behaviour; mention of stalking; fear of death; fear of animal abuse/death; threatening/mild violence and abuse with cleaver.

Also, Izea is not an actual person I know, it's just a random dude with dark red hair that my brain threw at me in a very uncomfortable way and assigned him that name for some reason.)

My house was a normal looking small single/double story house in a suburb, and I know it was night. I was stuck in my own house with a man named Izea and his ‘friends’, people I assume were too scared to deny or stand up to them for some reason given that most of the few didn’t seem overjoyed at keeping me trapped in my own home. 

I sort of had a flashback to meeting Izea earlier in the day to what looked like a café/coffee shop, though my brain told me ‘small airport’, so it was probably a weird waiting area for the airport. 

Either way, the interaction between Izea and I was so brief that it couldn’t logically be called anything near a conversation; a brief ‘sorry’ and ‘hello’ from me after I accidentally bumped into him. But, it was enough for him to become obsessed for some reason, stalking me to my home either the same day or later on and breaking in. 

He LAUGHED as I tried to skirt around him to arm myself against him, trying to stay out of his reach or anyone else’s. He didn’t seem bothered by my distress or anger, saying something along the lines of how I just needed to get used to him and things would ‘be better’, essentially telling me that he was patient enough to wait for me to break. 

I don’t know if it was the same night or a few days passing in the dream but I did try to leave multiple times, either stopped by one of his lackeys or himself with a smile far too casual for trapping me. 

One of my cats was in the dream and I was terrified that he’d hurt or kill her to get to me because I was still stubbornly fighting against him and my situation. I certainly wasn’t giving him the fantasy response that I assume a lot of stalkers imagine, where they believe the object of their affection just needs to see how ‘devoted’ they are before receiving adoration in return. I knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped to my defiance despite the rather laisse faire response he’d had so far. 

I desperately herded my cat to the laundry room as stealthily as I could, aiming to let her out of the side door. 

One of the people with Izea found me, the only woman I could remember being there. She didn’t say anything but I quietly begged her to at least let my baby out so that I could hope, pray, and pretend she’d be perfectly safe, thinking that at least I wouldn’t be forced to watch her get hurt or killed. She just silently handed me my car keys, gave a small nod to the door, and walked out of the laundry room. 

Relieved, I snuck out of the side door with my cat and crept up to the car, opening it and getting inside with her right before the front curtains were torn open by Izea trying to see if I was outside.  

I managed to duck and hide beneath the dashboard before being seen, successfully not being caught as he began to shout furiously at the other people. After waiting several seconds I peered out and saw that the curtains were placed back haphazardly, and I didn’t hesitate to turn the car on and leave immediately as the sun started coming up. My cat never showed up again in the dream, so I’m just going to assume my brain no clipped her out of danger. 

It skipped to where I made it onto the highway, though I don’t know how long I was supposed to have been driving. My phone was somehow connected to my car (I don’t remember picking it up or anything) and I got a message that was autoread: “I CAN SEE YOU”, along with another creepy message that I can’t remember. 

I looked back and saw another car weaving wildly in and out of traffic towards me until it rammed into the back wheel of my own, causing me to flip. The dream flickered to where I was running from the wreckage into some kind of store or building. I ended up becoming cornered and panicked as he got closer, heart pounding as I’d shouted, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I-I’m ready to talk about this!” 

Izea didn’t have anymore smiles or patience and had a cleaver as he stalked closer and replied, “I’m past the point of talking.” 

I know he said something after that, but I didn’t register it as he got closer, squeezing my eyes shut with the expectation of being killed immediately. But instead he started lightly cutting at the exposed skin of my arms while I was trapped between him and the wall behind me, each slice and cut moving upwards until he was nicking my collarbone. I expected him to cut my throat, but he grabbed my jaw with his free hand and pressed the blade against my cheek. 

I can’t remember what he said again, but I remember trying to push the hand with the knife away from me, breaking the skin as I struggled. Somehow the knife ended up breaking in the metal and I stabbed him in the eye. His only reaction was getting angrier. 

The rest of the dream gets rather blurry. The lady that helped me before showed up with both of us struggling to hurt Izea. There were also some bits I barely remember and don’t quite remember where they fall into the sequence of events; running into a friend and telling her I’ll explain everything later, Izea gaslighting someone when I tried to ask for help, and me trying to convince him to let me go to work otherwise people would notice my absence and try to use it as an ability to escape. 

#dreams #tw abuse #tw obsessive behavior

[shemarmooresfedora]

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: mentions of abandonment, unwanted sexual advances (outside character to spencer), swearing, mentions of cheating (doesn’t actually happen), happy ending

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Chapter 10

You woke up with Spencer’s arm lazily draped over your waist. Rain was pitter-pattering against the window.

You rolled over and cuddled yourself into Spencer’s chest.

“Good morning,” he hummed contently.

“G’morning,” you sleepily mumbled.

“Is my little angel tired from last night?” he asked.

“Very,” you nodded, “Do we have to pick Callie up from her sleepover?”

“She’s staying there until after her soccer practice. I have to go back to my house and get some more clothes to bring over here but other than that, my day is wide open,” he gently stroked your hair.

“I just have two appointments later in the day so I’ll have to go into the office this afternoon,” you yawned.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Spencer tried to shift out from underneath the covers.

“Or…” you wrapped your arms around him once again, “We can get breakfast on the way to your house and then I get some extra cuddle time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead.

-

“Um hello?” Spencer asked as you both approached the woman standing at his front door.

She turned around and Spencer’s eyes practically bulged out of his head.

“Spencer!” she ran to hug him.

Spencer refused to unclasp his hand from yours, making it very clear he had no intention to return the hug.

“What are you doing here, Austin?”

Austin. This was Callie’s mother. The woman who abandoned them both.

“I’m in between jobs right now, figuring out my purpose in life, you know? I just took a bus and ended up back here again. Got me thinking I should stop by and check in,” she smiled like this was just a casual visit from a friend.

“You wanted to stop by after 11 years and no goodbye?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“I could also use a place to crash for a few days. How’s Camellia doing? Does she still do that thing where she twitches her little nose? I always loved that.”

“Don’t act like you know my daughter at all,” Spencer seethed.

“Spencer,” you got in between them, putting your hands on his chest to calm him down.

You turned to Austin, “One second.”

You led Spencer back down the steps, “Look, I know what she did was very wrong but she did give you the greatest gift of all, Callie, so maybe you could invite her over for dinner and she could just sleep on the couch for the night?”

“Just one night?” Spencer confirmed.

“If you don’t do this now, Callie will probably just track her birth mother down later in life without you there to supervise. Lots of my past foster kids have and it doesn’t always end well.”

“Fine,” Spencer relented, heading back up the front steps.

“You can stay with us for one night,” Spencer emphasized, “I will be watching you the whole time you’re with Callie.”

“Deal!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, opting to not give a label.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied with a sickeningly sweet smile.

She loaded her few bags of belongings into the back of the car as you and Spencer grabbed some more of his clothes from inside.

Spencer opted to drive so you headed to the passenger side. Austin grabbed the car door handle at the same time as you.

“Oh I’m sorry, were you going to sit here?” she feigned politeness.

“Yeah, I was,” you narrowed your eyes.

Spencer rolled the window down, “Austin, there’s plenty of room in the back.”

“Oh, of course!” she nodded enthusiastically.

You buckled as Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, in view of Austin. You settled in for the most awkward car ride of your life.

-

“Can’t you cancel? Please don’t leave me here with her,” Spencer begged as you got ready to go in for work.

“I would if they were just check-ups but Timmy has a rash I need to check out and I need to write a script so Jessica can get a refill on her medication. If you really don’t want to be alone with her, come with me,” you replied.

“I would but I also don’t trust her enough to leave her alone in your house,” Spencer sighed.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” you kissed him, “An hour and a half tops.”

“What do I even say to her?”

“You don’t have to say much. You’re already being generous enough to let her see Callie for the night. Just make dinner while I’m gone. You could offer her a bath or something if you want her to get out of your hair,” you suggested.

-

Spencer had offered Austin a bath so he didn’t have to deal with the awkward silence while you were gone.

He got to work cooking Rossi’s famous pasta for dinner, dicing onions and boiling the water. He would check the clock every minute and started a countdown in his head of when you would return home.

He heard the water drain from the tub upstairs.

Fuck, he thought, at least 10 more minutes until you’re home.

Austin sauntered down the stairs after her bath in just her bra and underwear, wearing one of Spencer’s unbuttoned dress shirts over top.

Spencer’s hands flew to cover his eyes, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hopefully you,” she smirked.

“I have a girlfriend, well it’s not official yet but I am very much committed to her,” Spencer stated.

“If it’s not official,” she drew closer, “Then, this wouldn’t be cheating.”

“I don’t care if it’s technically not cheating. I only have interest in Y/N,” Spencer spoke firmly, his hands still over his eyes.

“Just once, Spence…for old time’s sake,” she whispered in his ear.

“No,” Spencer backed up further into the pot of sauce he was cooking for dinner, spilling a bit of the hot liquid on himself.

Spencer opened his eyes at the burning sensation, “Now look what you did,” he sighed frustratedly, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt, “I have to soak this before it stains. I can’t believe you. Why would you think this is okay?”

“Just go wash your shirt, Spencer,” Austin rolled her eyes.

Spencer, being so angry, didn’t hear the door open.

“I’m not finished with you, Austin,” he stared her down.

He heard a squeak from the other side of the room. You were standing there, fresh tears running down your face.

Spencer looked down at his unbuttoned shirt, Austin’s lack of clothes, and recalled the last thing he said.

“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like-” he tried to run after you but you were already out the door, slamming it behind you.

Spencer scrambled outside to where you were starting your car back up again.

“Y/N,” he frantically tapped against the car window, “Please let me explain.”

You didn’t even turn to face him, shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the driveway.

Spencer stormed back inside, grabbing Austin’s bags, “Get the fuck out of Y/N’s house and get the fuck out of my family’s life.”

“But Callie isn’t even home yet,” she argued.

“Good,” Spencer yelled, “Because it took you less than 3 hours for your true colors to show again. You care about nothing! You didn’t want anything to do with us then so you don’t get to have anything to do with us now,” Spencer escorted her towards the door, “I will not hesitate to file for a restraining order if I see you near me, Y/N, or my daughter ever again.”

“Can I at least change?” she asked as Spencer threw her bags on the front step.

“You were plenty comfortable showing me who repeatedly told you no so might as well show the whole neighborhood,” he slammed the door in her face.

-

How dare he? In your house. Probably in your bed.

You went back to your office because Spencer couldn’t even leave you the dignity to retreat back to your own safe space that was now tainted with bad memories.

Luckily, you had a few pairs of spare clothes that you always kept in the office and a fully made cot in case a patient needed to rest. You settled yourself on the bed, letting the tears begin to fall again, drenching your pillow as you let sleep take over.

-

“Please pick up please please please,” Spencer begged.

“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I can’t come to the phone right now-”

Spencer hung up and hit his head against the steering wheel. He had already said what he needed to say in the previous 20 voicemails, followed by the additional 30 calls he made every 15 minutes, hoping you would pick up.

“At least you’re not blocked?” Callie tried her hardest to put a positive spin on it.

She didn’t know the full story, coming home after soccer practice to see her dad crying on the couch. Spencer told her that her mother had come back and hurt Y/N’s feelings badly because that was essentially what happened, right?

Spencer had been replaying the situation over and over in his head. Yes, it looked bad from the outside perspective but he didn’t think he actually did anything wrong. If only he could find Y/N, explain it to her and have her believe him.

“Have fun at school,” he hugged her goodbye before she hopped out of the car.

“Remember to tell Mrs. Roberts to drop you off at our place, not Y/N’s,” he reminded her.

“Our house is going to feel so dull though. It’s always cold, did you notice that? We don’t even have a cat,” she whined.

“The least we can do is give Y/N her space to process,” Spencer told her, “If she’s ready for us to come back into her life eventually, we’ll gladly take it.”

“If?” Callie grimaced, “How bad did my mother mess this up?”

“I’d rather not say,” Spencer simply stated.

“That sounds promising,” Callie sighed, “Bye, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

-

“Could you give this note to Doctor Y/L/N?” Spencer asked the receptionist.

Y/N,

Your house is cleared out. Despite your previous statement, it is obvious we have overstayed our welcome at the moment. I hope if you give me a chance to explain, it will ease your pain and in turn, mine. I swear to you, angel, nothing happened. I can tell the full story whenever you are ready and I hope you can hear the truth in my voice.

Yours,

Spencer

“Jake Gomez?” he heard you call out.

He turned around to see a little kid hopping out of his seat in the waiting room and following you into the clinic area. You made brief eye contact with him and you looked so broken. It took everything in him not to run up and beg on his knees for your forgiveness.

-

Callie had a big soccer game coming up and you really wanted to go but you also really didn’t want to see Spencer.

Sure, you got his note but he could easily have lied. It was hard to argue with what you saw right in front of your eyes.

You pulled your hair back into a low bun and wore a hood pulled over a hat as well as sunglasses. You made sure to blend in with the crowd of moms.

You saw Spencer about 2 rows of bleachers down, leaning against the fence. God, why did he have to look so good in jeans?

Despite your sunglasses, one of the moms caught the subject of your stares.

“I’m pretty sure he’s single too,” she nudged you, “If I didn’t have a husband, I would be all over that fine piece of ass.”

You just nervously nodded in response.

-

The game had gone into overtime. The teams had to take turns shooting on the opposing goalie’s net. Each team must take 5 shots with 5 different players and whoever makes the most wins.

Callie was put in the stressful position of needing to make the shot to win the game for her team. She took her time, lining up the shot and stretching out her legs.

Callie ran in for the kick, faking left and when the goalie dived, she kicked right.

“Score!” the ref announced.

“Yes, Callie!” you stood and screamed in excitement, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

After the initial shock wore off, you realized Spencer was staring directly at you.

You grimaced, “Um excuse me, sorry, excuse me,” you repeated as you tried to quickly get out of the aisle.

“Y/N, please wait!” Spencer ran after you.

“I came for Callie, Spencer, not you,” you huffed, slowing to a walk because the parking lot was up a hill and you weren’t about to sprint the whole way.

“Please, Y/N, let me explain. I miss you so much, it hurts,” he pleaded.

“Oh you’re hurt?” you asked incredulously, “I’m sorry that me leaving after I found you cheating on me hurt you.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Spencer insisted, “She was coming on to me but I rejected her every single time. I was yelling at her for how inappropriate her behavior was, that's what you walked in on.”

“You were yelling at her with your shirt off?”

“I had my eyes covered at first so I wouldn’t see her indecent but I accidentally backed into the sauce and I didn’t want to stain my shirt.”

You sat there in silence, processing his story.

“Please say something. I’ll do anything to make it right, I need you back.”

A tear fell from Spencer’s eye which was followed by many more.

“I think your story is just crazy enough that I believe you,” you spoke.

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“Really,” you outreached your arms for a hug.

Spencer dove into your embrace like it was his air. He cried into your chest for 10 minutes until he finally met your eyes again.

“I’m sorry, I just thought I was never going to get to do this again,” he squeezed you tighter, “I love you, Y/N, and I want you to be my girlfriend. I actually want you to be more than my girlfriend someday but this is a good start for now.”

“I love you too,” you kissed him, “And just curious, what did you have in mind for the future?”

“I’m going to make you my wife someday,” he grinned.

A/N: one chapter left of this series! 🥺❤️

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @ssacalumsg0lden @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @mggs-sidehoe @rexit-mo @hufflepuffhaze @xoxospencerreid @wifeyprentiss @reidsbookclub @spencersrose @pinkdiamond1016 @muffin-cup

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme @nani-2305 @obsessivelysearching @fantasynerd09 @bvttercupbby @britishspidey @ladyravenclaw @belledawnidk @annesauriol @smokey102 @lady-himbo @kaitieskidmore1 @westanspencerreid @manuosorioh @haylaansmi @unhea1thy0bsessions @meganskane @lovergirl24 @queenariesofnarnia @asexual-booknerd (additional tags in reblog)

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #cm fanfic #cm fic

[writer-panda]

Hit on the groom and what became of it - chapter 1/I will keep missing you (if you don’t stop running)

Disclaimer: I don’t own DC or Miraculous. I’m just playing with some crazy concept. 

Chapter 1 (here)  -|-  Next

-------------

Ladybug landed on top of the Eiffel tower with practiced grace. An agitated worry roiling in her chest about the message Chat Noir left her. The urgency was one thing, but he sounded… pained. Like the weight of the world dragged him down type pain. 

Marinette knew Chat’s home life wasn’t perfect. Skilled at hiding it, maybe, but details leaked through the cracks. An offhand comment here, a muttered accusation there, a sour face yet again here. He lived in pain and tried so hard to work through it. 

She tried to help him whenever she could, both as Ladybug and Marinette. She may not return his feelings, but she always listened. For months during their third year as heroes, she left food on the rooftop when Chat’s suit revealed too many ribs. She wasn’t sure the reason and didn’t dare to ask, lest she learned too much, but she did try to help. There were times she thought she imagined the pained looks, and thin frame, and thinly veiled comments; maybe overexaggerating the situation in her mind, as she often did. After all, he always acted so cheerfully.

Then, Lila happened. 

The first strike landed swift, almost deadly, but she survived. It was what followed that made her reconsider. A prolonged fight, where Marinette chose to retain a cheerful mask to hide the pain. Along the line, she considered confiding in her parents. But what could they do?  Maybe take her from school, but that would mean Lila already won; the Liar would rule unopposed.

Which left Adrien, her last bastion of friendship. 

She still harbored a bit of a crush on him, but it was justified! Like a knight in shining armor, he stood, always ready to defend her. He always ensured her inclusion in class activities and saved her from several catastrophes. 

She still stumbled over her words with him, but when it’s minor stuttering or not talking to anyone, she forced herself to adapt. It was nowhere near as bad as it used to be. 

With the ability to spend more time with Adrien without acting like a spaz, Kagami also appeared more often, and proved to be a good friend. Marinette found a home with the two awkward rich kids ridiculously clueless and unaware of how the real world functioned. In the end, she even grew to accept Adrien might not be destined to be hers but chose to support him nonetheless. 

“My lady?” She was broken out of her musing by a familiar voice.

“Hello, Kitty-cat. I got your message… what’s wrong?” She turned to see Cat Noir slumped over the railing, with his ears tweaking nervously. She didn’t even know he could do it. 

“I… I’m sorry my Lady, but I can’t… I can’t continue to be your partner,” he declared.

“What?!” she squeaked. “What happened? What’s the matter?” 

“I’m… I’m getting married,” he announced, his ears drooping and tail tucked between his legs.  

Oh, that’s… not what she expected to hear. “Married? Congrat…” she drifted off, noticing his sour face. “Chat? What are you not telling me?”

“It’s… I… My…” He struggled to figure out how to say it, but ultimately remained silent for a moment. “There is nothing to be happy about. It’s a… business marriage,” he spat, his eyes narrowing.  

“But… those are illegal!” Ladybug protested.

“Not when you make it look like a love match. Especially if you insinuate at a scandal.” He sneered, jumping off the railing and pacing along the empty rooftop. “My father holds all the cards and I… I’m in no position to oppose him.”

“I’m sure we can…”

He sighed, walking over to her. “Please… M’lady. Don’t try to give me hope. I accepted what I must do.” With that, he reached for the ring, but she stopped him.

“Chat. We can try… You’re my friend. You can’t… We will figure it out. Together.” In all they’d endured, suffered, and triumphed - Marinette had never seen him this despondent… this broken. 

He sighed, his eyes flat and dull. “There is nothing to figure out,” he said, forcing the ring off his finger. 

The transformation fell, leaving Adrien Agreste materialized in place of her long-time partner. Plagg’s sharp cry cut off, as he’s sucked into the ring the second he popped out of it. She stood there, too stunned to notice the blond boy pushed the ring into her palm and closed it. 

Marinette wasn’t sure what thoughts decided to rampantly rage through her head, but the train of thoughts probably broke the collective speed limit everywhere in the world at the same time. 

“M’lady?” Adrien’s soft voice brought her to earth when she was one step from panic.

“A-Adrien?” She choked on the word.

“You heard about me?” He looked dumbfounded. Ladybug, too shocked to say a word, gestured over to the building line. Even from so high and far away, his most recent billboard advertisement stood visible. “Ah… right.”

“Who… who’s the lucky girl?” Inside her mind, she wondered if Kagami right now faced a  similar problem. It was the most logical…

“Lila Rossi,” Adrien admitted, his shoulders hunching. 

Marinette.exe stopped working. 

A moment passed.

Another.

“Um… M’Lady?” The boy tried to prod his ex-partner to respond by waving his hand in front of her face.

“That… that lying…” Ladybug saw red. This could not be happening.

Adrien nodded, the despondent look on his face growing worse every second.“My father deemed her a suitable heiress to the Gabriel brand… I tried to warn him she was a liar, but he… I think he actually admires her skill…” Tears built in his eyes, and Adrien covertly tried to wipe them away. 

“Maybe… maybe you could… I don’t know!” she screamed in frustration. Marinette had several ideas about what Adrien could do, but none of them would help. 

Running away would be a problem. Leaking the story to the press would lead to his home life growing even worse. After dealing with Gabriel Agreste’s parenting, she held no illusion Adrien could win a court battle. The rich too often got away with whatever they desired. She could try to sicc Uncle Jagged on the case… or maybe Clara Nightingale… Nadia Chamack would probably love the news-breaking story, but it would all put Adrien in danger. Who knows what would happen before they could obtain results or protection against Gabriel’s extensive reach. 

Adrien sighed as if knowing exactly where her thoughts took her. Chat was no dummy, he probably scoured over his options more times than he could count. His resignation, the last resort in a long line of failed plans.  “I appreciate you trying, but I already told you I accepted it. Just… take me down, please. I… I didn’t really plan the location well…” He let out a weak chuckle. 

“Fine… I’m sorry kitty...” She grabbed hold of him and swung to the ground. Despondently she watched her best friend, her partner, walk away into the night; resigned to a life of suffering and isolation. 

There must be something she could do, she thought. She closed a gloved fist around the ring. She was Ladybug, and if she put her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn't do.  

-----------

A week later the press learned about the upcoming wedding. Adrien and Lila both left school for home-school. The press and the general public ate up the news story about star-crossed lovers that met in school and became inseparable. It didn’t help that the class kept commenting about how good they were for each other. 

Marinette resisted an urge to gag whenever she caught the sound of the vicious lies and propaganda.  She was asked for comment only once but chose to refuse. It didn’t earn her any popularity in class. Luckily, she convinced Nadia to stop a nasty side-story about her jealousy from being published. 

No closer to a plan, she despondently continued to push through her life without her friend. She, unsurprisingly, hadn’t received a single text or call. Marinette didn’t blame Adrien; his position couldn’t be easy. A month after Adrien departed from her class, Marinette convinced her parents to also home-school her. Without a single friend, the school became a burden. Of course, her reasoning to her parents leaned into her focus on her fashion business. Which wasn’t untrue. It was starting to pick up. 

The only upside to this whole debacle was near-lack of akuma attacks. It seemed Hawkmoth found a hobby. Maybe he wrote poems? 

Nah. Not his style...

Two months after the announcement  Marinette woke to surprise guests: Adrien, his father, and Lila knocked on the bakery’s doors. The bride-to-be in an especially sour mood, as much as she tried to hide it. Gabriel appeared to be devoid of any emotions, as usual.

She seated them on the couch and asked if they would like a drink. She didn’t bother to offer food, not wanting to waste good cake on the likes of Lila and Gabriel. Although, Adrien’s thin cheeks and haunted eyes made her regret the decision. 

All of them declined the drink.

“Madame Marinette, I assume you have heard of the Wedding?” The capitalization clearly discernible in his voice. 

“Yes… Yes sir!” she corrected herself. Trying desperately to mask her disgust behind a layer of nervousness. She couldn’t risk a glance at Adrien, even if this was the first time she’d seen him since that night on the roof. Making it through the meeting would be hard enough without watching him suffer.  

“While initially, I planned to prepare the dress and suit myself, my son convinced me to give a chance to someone else to shine.” Clearly, whatever it was Adrien said, it didn’t include a polite request. “I have seen the dress you made for Rock Star Jagged Stone’s wedding, as well as the suit worn by Nadia Chamack.”

“They are designs I’m particularly proud of, sir.” 

Play the part. Play the part. Don’t send him to the hospital. Papa and Maman would be disappointed. Well, Maman would probably join me… 

Her homicidal train of thought ended as she forced a smile to appear on her face. Contrary to Lila’s stretched thin lips;  Marinette’s smile shines bright and could’ve been mistaken for genuine.

“Indeed… I’ve come to commission you to design and make the gown and the suit for the sweet couple.” He announced like it was the highest honor, but there was an amount of bile in his words Marinette used to think was reserved only for Nino.

“I… I’m… I’m honored, sir!” She beamed. The excitement only half-forced. Her moral compass told her even entertaining the proposal was wrong, but at the same time, her brain furiously flitted crafting possibilities. 

Gabriel nodded imperiously as if her acceptance merely added to a foregone conclusion. “Good. My assistant, Nathalie, will sort out the details. Lex Luthor agreed to pay for the pieces as his wedding gift, so do not be afraid to ask for full price.” He informed her t as if he believed she would give him a discount. 

For a moment, a singular reckless moment, Marinette entertained the temptation to voice her thoughts about Gabriel being cheap. 

She sighed, no, there would be another day for career suicide. The group rose to leave, and Marinette finally glanced at Adrien; his model-trained smile paper-thin. He caught her eyes, and if he radiated sadness two months ago, it didn’t hold a candle to the devastation swimming in his eyes. The exchange broke when Lila gripped a hand tight around his arm and dragged him to the door. 

Gabriel handed her a card, and the group departed. Marinette collapsed onto the couch, the makings of a headache building in her skull. 

This would be awful.  

------------

A week later Marinette held a separate meeting, consisting of Nathalie, Lila, Lila’s mother, and Adrien’s aunt. And her, obviously. 

She first asked what kind of dress Lila wanted.

Lila’s eyes lit up in an unholy glee; and she started talking. 

And talking. 

And talking. 

And talking. 

After the long and painstakingly thorough description, Marinette felt faint. Several reasons contributed to that, although the most prominent were the materials, the design, and the way she spoke. Obviously Lila had feelings, the kind likely to trigger an oncoming Auma attack if Hawkmoth hadn’t pranced off to who knows where, about Marinette designing her dress. 

Marinette was happy Adrien’s aunt pointed out the request’s complete madness, but Lila’s mother waved it off, quick to declare only minor adjustments to the request would be needed. 

In the end, Marinette presented several dozen designs, both hers and foreign to have a basis on which she could work. Lila, of course, chose the one that would be hardest to make.

“I’m sorry none of your designs were good, Marinette…” The liar cooed with faked sorrow. She hid a smirk the designer could clearly see. 

The notion was born because it was a picture and not a sketch. 

Marinette smirked, and rose from the couch, ignoring Lila’s irritated scowl at her non-reaction.  

She liked it even less when the girl brought in the ready-made dress. 

“I made it as the first design for Penny Rolling’s wedding, based on Uncle Jagged’s suggestions. I should’ve known Penny didn’t approve of his idea, but…” she waved it off.

Lila, now actively glaring at her, sat back on the couch. All of which was mistaken for amazement by the adults.

Marinette ignored the girl’s dramatics, it was the only way she’d survive this meeting intact. “Of course, there still needs to be several adjustments and personalizations. I will also need to order the amber you requested. And the platinum thread. And the white gold. And probably an industrial-grade 3-D printer… Is that covered by the expenses?” She looked at Nathalie, who nodded. “Great! I will need just a moment.” 

The women watched as Marinette practically leaped at her notebook and added in adjustments to the sketch. Fifteen minutes later, when she presented a new design, impressing them all (sans Lila, obviously) with the flowing lines and intricate details. They praised her talent (even Natalie), and Marinette played the bashful young designer role to a tee. The liar kept glaring though. She couldn’t back away easily, since she already made a scene about wanting that specific dress. Marinette informed them beforehand she would need to know about her specific wishes before she made any adjustments. 

The final design looked pretty much exactly what Lila wanted though, but she didn’t want to give her nemesis the satisfaction. Her entourage did enough of this. 

Under the cover of being too emotional, they ended the meeting. Nathalie remained to finish the deal and sign the contract. 

After all of them left, Marinette collapsed onto her chair. An hour later a notification from her bank came. She received the first half of the payment. When finished, the dress would officially be the most expensive wedding dress to date. Blessed be Lex Luthor and his deep pocket. She chuckled, remembering how much the billionaire got kidnapped because of his money.

Then, an idea shined in her head.

Oh. 

Oh...

She took off her earrings and dismissed Tikki, promising she needed a quick chat with Plagg about a new potential holder. When Marinette put on the ring, the Kwami of destruction popped back into existence. 

“So… figured out how to help my chosen?” he asked. 

What Tikki didn’t know was when Marinette said she intended to discuss potential holders for Plagg, they really worked on a way to save Adrien. It was their secret since Tikki would most likely disapprove. They didn’t want to risk her disappointment in them. Not until they crafted a fleshed out full-proof plan. 

She nodded. “I have an idea. Let’s hire someone to kidnap him!” 

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Did they hit you on the head, pigtails?”

“No. But look, the problem is whatever we come up with, Adrien ends up blamed or we land ourselves in jail, right?” The Kwami nodded. “So… if we make sure it’s a very public kidnapping and he disappears, we can stash him away until the heat dies down. After we dye his hair and apply fast-tan, he will look different enough no one will connect the two. I’m pretty sure I could get my hands on fake documents if I tried hard enough…” she trailed off thinking of all the minutiae to coordinate to pull this off. 

It would be hard. 

But it would be worth it. 

Plagg slowly nods. “Okay… Somehow, that both makes no sense and seems perfectly legitimate. It’s also your most chaotic plan to date, Pigtails. Let’s do it!” The Kwami cheered, happy to be soon reunited with his chosen kitten. “But what about the costs!”

Marinette already had an answer in mind for that question. “Even after I subtract the costs of materials and other supplies, the payment for the dress, together with my savings, will be more than enough. Now… let’s go wake Tikki up.”

That… ended with the Kwami of Creation vomiting a pile of handcuffs and other police gear at Marinette. 

“Um… Why?”

The little red Kwammi placed her paws on her hips. “Because you should familiarize yourself with those if you plan on going to prison for that plan. It’s no longer just a phone theft, Marinette! You’re talking about breaking more laws than I can count!” She dropped to the pillow below, bemoaning about where she went wrong. 

Marinette scooped up her wayward friend and tried to reassure her. “I just need to be careful. I’m pretty sure I can do it without detection. Maman taught me how to not be seen on the internet. Or in general. Come on. I need to order a secure laptop.”

“I will help!” Plagg offered. “I can cataclysm the internet after you do your thing.”

“What?! No! Think of the cute cat pictures!” Marinette protested. “And video games.” 

“Relax! It’ll just remove any trace of you doing anything online in the several hours or so…” He calmed her.

Tikki trailed after them, a bundle of nerves and worry. “Plagg! It’s irresponsible! You can’t possibly…”

“Pigtails and I have it all under control. What’s the worst that could happen?”

---------

Turns out, a lot. 

Before Marinette put out the hit (kidnapping, she made sure that it was plain as day), she needed to set a price. That one was harder. It wasn’t like you could Google how much you needed to charge to kidnap a celebrity. At least, not without attracting a lot of unwanted attention. 

She asked her mother, under the guise of pure curiosity. It was a normal question any teenage girl asked her mother. How much does it cost to have someone killed, how much cheaper/more expensive a kidnapping is, how to acquire fake documents, that kind of stuff. Not suspicious at all. 

So absorbed in her rant, she missed a merry glint in Sabine’s eyes. She also didn’t question how her Maman knew those prices. 

Finally, she needed to fill the form. 

Assignment: Acquisition and Delivery

Asset(s): Adrien Athanase Agreste

Value: 

Here, Marinette paused. 

Her mom gave her a lengthy lecture about pricing and all. According to her, a professional would take up to fifty thousand dollars for kidnapping and bringing the target to her. Marinette decided, since Adrien was a celebrity, she should double the price. More risks involved, more reward, right? 

But, she also wanted to ensure she hired the best of the best. Compare her work to Gabriel Agreste’s, she came to the conclusion ten times the price was reasonable to ensure only the best in the field would take the job. 

Then, there was the matter of safety and so on and so on. By the end, she settled on two million dollars, as her asking price for one Adrien Agreste. Plagg sagely nodded, agreeing with her assessment. Tikki didn’t comment, as she wasn’t speaking to the two, but also seemed more accepting after spying on Adrien and Lila’s home life. Not that she revealed that tidbit to either of them, lest they drop the plan and directly go at Gabe and the Liar. 

After a few more details and boxes in the form Marinette filled until she came to the end. Only one more detail remained: 

Sponsor:

Marinette stared at the word for a moment. After a quick race of thoughts, she typed slowly. 

Sponsor: The Seamstress

Perfect. Nothing about this could go wrong.

Of course, how could she predict just how big of a mess she would make? 

----------

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #BAMF Marinette #adrien agreste #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb x dc #dc #DC comics

[drwcn]

maybe after today’s acls training i can finally write that chengqing ER oneshot. 

— “Patient male, mid-twenties, motor vehicle collision, eta 3 mins” 

— “What no vitals? No GCS? ETA 3 mins? Who’s on the paramedic team?!” 

— “No one….Dr. Lu hit someone with her car on her way out of the hospital.” 

【A Midnight Conversation in Your Local ER】- Complete

[1] 

The night hunt had gone to shits.

That much was undeniable.

Jiang Cheng heard the panicked shout of his disciples just as he saw the array that he had stepped on.

Fuck.

The ghost of an once mediocre demonic cultivator wanna-be was going to bring Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin - the Sandu Shengshou - to meet his maker. The irony of the situation would be laughable, if he wasn’t so irrevocably screwed.

That was his last thought before his entire body was engulfed by a blinding light and the world he knew disappeared.

The ground beneath his feet gave away, weightlessness paralyzing his body though he did not fall. He felt…launched, his body warping and squeezing and stretching, the air sucked from his lungs into the endless black vacuum.

But just like that it was over. Jiang Cheng barely had time to make peace with his death before his feet touch solid earth again.

Or at least….he thought it was earth, this black, tarry hard thing striped with yellow and white. He stared at it dumbly, breathless and disoriented, barely able to react when a loud blare assaulted his senses and his world went blindly bright yet again.

This time there was pain.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu, ready to fight, but then his head hit the ground and everything went dark. When he woke up again, an indeterminate amount of time later, he was in a small tube and had a distinct feeling he was not wearing pants, socks or shoes.

How the fuck do you ‘scan’ a cat???  

[2]

Method actor. The nurse, from the other side of the curtain, mouthed silently.

“Sir, can you tell me your name.”

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wangyin.”

The resident paused, awkwardly contemplating how to continue. “Uh…..which is it? Jiang Cheng or Jiang Wanyin?”

“Jiang Cheng, zi Wanyin.”

“Traditional parents?” The resident tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. The strange man stared up at him with a blank look in his eyes and a frown that was rapidly deteriorating into a scowl. The resident cleared his throat and cast his eyes back onto his clipboard. “Uh, ahem, just the name on your ID please.”

“My what?" 

"Your personal ID….like a driver’s license?”

“Cultivators of the gentry fly on swords or ride horses. We do not rely on carriage valets.”

“Eh… right. Uhm, can you tell me how old you are and what year it is.”

“I’m 39, and the year is jiachen.”

Lu Qi frowned from where she stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her resident and medical student work. 39? He looks like a college student. But he also thinks he can fly, so I guess age is the least of our worries. 

“Jiachen.…?”

The M3 fished his phone out from his scrub pocket pocket and typed it in. “Sounds like the ganji system, like an old timey way to record year used in the past.” He whispers clandestinely to the resident.

“….Right. And uh, do you where you are?”

The man scowled at him. “Am I supposed to?” 

The resident scribbled something on the chart, and then looked up with a plastered awkward smile. “Well, thank you Mr. Jiang for your patience. Wang Fei here is the medical student on our team. He’s going to stay and ask you a couple more questions if you don’t mind. Afterwards we’ll confer with our attending and the team will be back to see you shortly.”

As he turned away, the R3 grimaced and shared a look with Lu Qi, who was the youngest attending physician in their ER, but was not technically working at the moment and so was not on the case. And technically, as the perpetrator who hit Jiang Cheng with her car, she had a severe conflict of interest.

At least this Jiang Cheng dude didn’t seem keen on pressing personal charges against her for MVA or suing the hospital in general… but that being said…

Yeah, they’re going to need a psych consult. 

Unless he’s on acid. 

Well… okay, psych consult either way. 

[3]

"It’s okay, you can relax.” Jiang Cheng said, waving dismissively at the woman standing by his bedside. “I’m not going to take you to the magistrate for hitting me with your carriage - car. You didn’t mean to, and I just came out of nowhere.” 

“....Thank you.” 

“You’re not Wen Qing. I know that now. Your name is Lu Qi. You can call off those psychia - psych - psychics - head healers - or whatever, I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault, you just… look so much like someone I used to know."

"Wen Qing.” Lu Qi echoed. 

“Yeah. Wen Qing. She was a healer - a doctor - like you, but different.” 

“I see. What happened to her?"

"She died. Almost twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry... that's awful.” Lu Qi’s response rolled off her tongue so well, because she had said those word a thousand times during her residency. So much so that it no longer had much meaning to her. Tonight however, she meant what she said. “Were you two close?"

"No, well…yes, maybe. No we weren’t exactly friends if that’s what you’re asking. She...operated on me. Without my consent or knowledge. Took my brother’s golden core and put it in me and then lied with my brother to my face about it. So no we weren’t “close”, but Wen Qing saved my life - well the purpose of it anyway. Saved me from a life of ordinariness.” 

Lu Qi did allow herself to dwell too much on what the fuck a “golden core” was, because her gut response was almost instantaneous. “That’s shitty of her.”

She clamped down on her tongue. 

God, why did I have to say that? To his face?! He was obviously in love with this Wen Qing person and they were encroaching on some dangerous emotional territories, but Lu Qi swallowed down her caution and plowed on nevertheless. There were things she felt she had to say, and since she’d already hit him with her car, how much worse could this shit get? “What I mean is she shouldn’t have. Not without telling you. Besides...there’s nothing wrong with ordinary.” 

Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...she didn’t deserve to die. What her clan did was not her fault.” 

Now that threw Lu Qi off. Did this guy...kill her? 

Lu Qi half wondered if she stumbled upon a Yakuza-esque member whose psyche finally snapped after years of murder and violence. And yet, he seemed perfectly coherent, no flight of ideas, no tangential thought, no hallucations. Even his delusions seemed...logical. 

I must be the one losing, damnit.  

Jiang Cheng scratched a little at his chest, as if palpating for the “golden core” that he spoke of. "She saved my life, but when she needed help, I couldn't save her. But, if I were to go back… I can't say I'll choose differently. My clan needed me, my clan who was almost cleansed by hers. No, no I wouldn’t choose differently. I don’t regret my choices, but I am sorry. Sorry to her, sorry to my brother. I'll always be sorry that she died, and that I failed her when she needed me." 

Jiang Cheng had no idea why he was telling this stranger any of this, but maybe after twenty years, he was finally ready to address this guilt that he lived with. I mean who else was he supposed to tell? Jin Ling? It was nice, to have that face as an audience, receiving his words of confession. 

"She would forgive you." 

Lu Qi had no idea why she was offering absolution as if she had authority in this matter, but when she said it, the conviction she felt was so real, it was almost as though some external force was acting through her.

Which was ridiculous of course, but... 

"How do you know? You're not her." Jiang Cheng shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

"No, but you said she was a physician. So she should know, more than most, that sometimes there is no choosing who gets to live or die."

Jiang Cheng fell quiet at that, and his gaze grew distant. Lu Qi thought perhaps he was no longer seeing her as she was in front of him - white coat, scrubs, stethoscope -  but someone entirely different. The tension he held in his shoulders slowly eased, and he sighed. In the silence that stretched between them, Lu Qi hoped that this strange man with his strange past could find a sliver of peace. 

[4]

— Did you love her? 

— I thought so, foolishly, but maybe I didn’t. Even if I did, it was not well enough. 

— Do you love her still? 

— No... I don’t know. It’s been too long...but sometimes, late at night when Lotus Pier is quiet, I think I do. 

...

— Are you ashamed of it? 

...

— No. No I’m not. 

[5]

The patient known as Jiang Cheng left AMA, that is, against medical advice. It was the term they used sometimes for people who just up and leave without informing the team. 

Lu Qi had gone out to check on his labs, which came back with bonker numbers (I mean really, a hemoglobin of 455, sodium of 200, and a HCO3 of like...3?), but Jiang Cheng was gone from Bay 6 when she returned. The nurse made the overhead page, a code yellow was called, but four hours later, Lu Qi was ready to admit that she was never going to see this Jiang Cheng ever again. 

Somehow, she was okay with that. She had said what needed to be said.  

Her chief had given her a call on her cell and told her to go home and sleep. The guy didn’t look like he was gonna press charges, let’s count our blessings and move on. But the night had just been too damn strange that Lu Qi was all wired up from it and couldn’t possibly fall asleep. She had handover at 10 anyway. There was a change of clothes and toiletries in her bag. She could always take a shower in the anesthesia staff’s on call room and sleep until then. 

Dr. Sun was the anesthesia staff on-call tonight and was currently stuck in trauma OR. They were buddies since medschool; she’d understand.

Sighing, Lu Qi took a seat on the bench across from the bougie cafe in the lobby of the hospital. At this hour, it was the only one still open in the entire facility. The drinks they sold cost an arm and a leg, but Lu Qi needed the pick-me-up after the night she had. 

As she nursed the last bit of her matcha latte, two bickering voices pulled her attention to the front entrance. 

“Aiyo, A-Liang I already said I’m fine! I don’t need to be here!” 

“Fuck out of here with that bullshit, Chen Zhaoxi. You fell off the fucking roof! If Wu Kun hadn’t called me, you’d have gone on -”

It was him! Lu Qi shot up. It was Jiang Cheng! 

But no...no it wasn’t him. The well-dressed man dragging the second man (dressed in red pajamas) into the hospital was not Jiang Cheng. He had the same face - chiselled, handsome, scowling - but it wasn’t him. For one, his hair was trimmed short and neat, unlike Jiang Cheng who looked like he walked straight out of a BL xianxia tv drama. Secondly, his face was softer, eyes younger, and he couldn’t have been older than Lu Qi herself in her early thirties. 

“I was just trying to get to the litter of kittens trapped -”

“Yes, yes, and it was very heroic and I’m sure it would’ve made Wu Kun very horny, and you morons probably would’ve fucked once he got home had you not made a valiant attempt at breaking your neck -” 

“Excuse me,” the security guard manning the information desk chastised sharply. “It’s 4am. This is a hospital! Lower your voices, sirs.” 

“Sorry.” The men apologized sheepishly. 

Then, A-Liang, Jiang Cheng’s doubleganger asked, “Could you please direct us to the ER? This is my brother, he fell off a roof.” 

Lu Bin had no idea what possessed her to interject. “I can take you there.” 

All eyes fell on her. She walked towards them, heart pounding. 

This can’t be happening, this kind of thing just can’t happen... 

A-Liang’s face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Miss -” Then his gaze trailed to her badge, and he corrected himself, “Dr. Lu. I’m Shen Liang. This is my brother Chen Zhaoxi. I think he fractured...well multiple things, please help him.�� 

“Of course, come with me. Let’s get him a wheelchair. If he fractured is leg, he probably shouldn’t be walking.” 

“I didn’t fracture -” 

“You, you shut up.” Shen Liang rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He can lose three out of four limbs and say ‘ t’s but a flesh wound’.” 

Lu Qi couldn’t help but chuckle as she put an arm under the complaining Chen Zhaoxi and helped him towards the wheelchair. 

Shen Liang’s smile widened. 

[Extra]

“Holy shit, took you long enough!” 

When Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui finally dragged Jiang Cheng to their portal site, Jiang Cheng realized that the transportation talisman had created a channel through realities between what looked like two metal garbage dumpsters in a back alley behind a food establishment marked by giant yellow bunny ears.

Standing guard there, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were each munching on a strange layered bread and holding tall drinks contained in...what was it called again? Right. Styrofoam. 

“What is that?” Jin Ling wrinkled is nose at it. Brat. 

“It’s a Big Mac.” Replied Lan Jingyi as if Jin Ling was stupid. “And this is a milk shake.” 

Jin Ling scowled. “I said the bag of gold I gave you was for emergencies.” 

“Yeah but we were hungry.” Ouyang Zizhen defended. He neglected to tell them that the cashier had refused to accept the gold and instead asked for “cash” or “card”, neither of which they had, so Zizhen used a liiiiil confounding talisman he learned from Wei Wuxian. They did leave more than enough gold though...and that ought to cover the restaurant’s cost for their “burger”lary . Reaching into the brown paper bag he held under one arm, Zizhen pulled out a little box that opened to show pieces of... something. “These are chicken nuggets. They’re delicious! Try one! They’re really good with this sauce....hold on...” 

Lan Sizhui sighed. “We don’t have time for this. The portal will close soon. Let’s get Jiang-zongzhu home and we can sample these exotic food later.” 

The boys agreed. 

Jiang Cheng shook his head and huffed. 

#cql #the untamed #chengqing #wen qing #jiang cheng #a midnight conversation in your local er #cql ficlet #corie fics

[wizkiddx]

your song blurb

hello!! sorry ive been so inactive and I have got a number of req that I am trying to work through - I am sorry, please be as patient as you can with me. general life shit and all hasn't been ideal. I am aware I reaaallly need to update my master list and will get round to it when I can I promise ;)

also have lots of asks abt the t + z situation but all I have to say is im so very happy for them and hope people respect their privacy ;)

harryhollandxreader // friends --> lovers blurb

summary: harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

//////////////////////////

There were some things that Harry, even after being friends for years, kept close to his chest. The one that you always tried to catch him out on was his singing. For some unknown reason, he was super self conscious of it. Every time he was nonchalantly humming along to himself, all it took was for you to make a single sound, and he’d immediately lock his mouth shut. From those fleeting moments, you had thought he didn’t even sound half bad, hence where your frustrations drew.

Because whilst you, who sounded like a cat being tortured, would scream your lungs out - Harry, who wasn’t even that bad, refused to make a fool out of himself.

It was exactly what had happened this evening when you had let yourself into Tom’s house otherwise unannounced. It’d been years since you’d been given a spare key by Harry - when they were both away, you often ‘house-sat’ for Tom; plus, you spent most evenings there too because that was where your best mate was.

Tom had messaged on the group chat to say he would be out for the evening, and Haz was around his girlfriends tonight, meaning on arrival, you’d known it’d just be you and Harry. So once you heard the quiet tune of a song, that you couldn’t quite place yet, safe to say you were on stealth mode. Sliding your shoes off and wincing as the floorboards creaked a little, you slowly crept through the house to find your frizzy-haired friend.

Sure enough, as you made your way through the kitchen, you found him stood over the hob, stirring round a wooden spoon of a saucepan - presumably filled with pasta he’d promised to have ready for you. Pouting as you leaned on the doorframe and crossed your arms, marvelling at him. He was dressed just in grey joggers and his favourite pink hoodie, arms rolled up to his elbow as the poor boy slaved away at the stove.

You stayed silent, to what you now recognised as billy joel, only unable to stifle a giggle when he reached a particularly high note. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, he jumped around and yelled, eyes fiery and pointed at you.

“OH fuck off Y/n!!”

“Billy Joel, an old school choice.” You smirked, now walking into the room to greet him properly.

“How long have you been stalking on me?”

“It’s not stalking if the stalkee gave me the key.”

“I don’t think that’s admissible in court.” He deadpanned back, pouting for a couple more seconds before finally shooting you a wide grin. The boy held his arms out, welcoming you into a proper greeting hug. Happily reciprocating, you inhaled deeply with your face pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

“How was work?” He murmured, already guessing the answer correctly.

“Shit. Exhausting. Hell, you want any more adjectives?” Harry just snorted back as you leaned away from his warmth.

“Nah rule of three is quite enough. Did you never pay attention in GCSE english?”

“Fuck off you can’t even spell GCSE.”

That was always how your friendship had been; it had always been a piss-taking battle. You simply were one of the boys - or at least that’s what you thought. Said boys though (meaning Sam, Tom, Harrison, Tuwaine and even Paddy) disagreed. You didn’t know, or didn’t believe, that Harry did NOT treat you like one of the boys. He cared about you differently, too. Tom thought it didn’t stop there, that Harry did in fact love you.

And yes, you might’ve admitted to Harrison on one very, very drunken night that you had occasionally thought of Harry as something more than your sarky friend. He had been since sworn to silence, though Haz had in fact, told Tom - who only replied with an ‘i told you so’.

Even though everyone else saw your relationship as complicated, to you and Harry it was just simple. You were just the best of friends.

And that’s how the evening went. The two of you were just messing around as usual; after eating the tomatoey pasta creation Harry had tried, you both made a right mess of the washing up - water ending up coating the floor and maybe one of the walls too (Tom would never know). And just like usual, it ended with you sprawled out on one sofa, Harry mirroring you on the adjacent one.

It was love island season, which meant every night at 9 pm there was only one place on earth either of you would be. On your respective sofas, watching the most trashy tv in the world.

Tonight though, no matter how excited you were for the next instalment of who-likes-who, your day of work caught up with you. Not that you noticed, but you’d pretty much passed out as soon as the opening scenes started. There were only two minutes of silence before Harry registered something was up - typically, he was trying to make you shut up so he could actually hear the TV. To investigate, he jumped off the sofa and leaned over the couch, the sight making him pout.

He knew work had been super stressful recently; and he also knew that your insomnia had been coming back with a vengeance. So instead of treating you like ‘one of the boys’ and throwing things until you woke up - Harry used a different approach. He draped the blanket that hung off the side of the sofa over you, biting back a slight smile as you huffed in appreciation for the soft quilt. Then Harry left you alone, knowing you could do with every little bit of rest you could get.

That was all good until it reached the third set of adverts when Harry heard you huff and move about on the sofa. And then again and again. Then again with what sounded like a bit of whimper too.

Brows furrowed, he paused the TV and slowly got up, rounding the sofa to see you somewhat matching his expression. Your face was contorted in one of distress, and you kept thrashing your head from side to side of the pillow. It didn’t take a genius to work out; this was your nightmares rearing their ugly heads.

Harry just wanted to stop this for you. Although the two of you were never particularly ‘mushy’ or vulnerable with each other - he knew just how much you were suffering recently. So without much thought into it, Harry knelt down to sit on the floor, side leaning up against the sofa as he looked towards you. Trying to hush you, he ran his hand over your forehead and over the top of your hair, though it seemed to take little effect. And then, again entirely without hesitation, Harry started to softly sing.

It’s a little bit funny

This feeling inside

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

Why Elton John was the first that came to mind was a mystery to Harry - except maybe that the lyrics ran true a little.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done

I hope you don’t mind

I hope you don’t mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

You’d always loved old 70s music, you were the one that had properly got you into all that stuff - the beatles, billy joel, elton, even a bit of springsteen. He owed half his music taste to your Spotify playlists, even if he’d never admit it to your face.

So excuse me forgetting

But these things I do

You see I’ve forgotten, if they’re green or they’re blue

Anyway the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

With a final huff, you finally settled down, Harry swore he could see all the discomfort literally melting away from your face. It took a minute but your breath evened out, mumbling something incomprehensible as you curled up toward him on the edge of the sofa.

This wasn't the first time he’d sang to you in your sleep - and he sort of hoped it wouldn't be the last either.

feedback is really appreciated <3

harry taglist : @euphorichxlland @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @crossyourpeter @hallecarey1

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #tom holland #harrison osterfield

[skrltwtch]

Graveyard Shift

Prompt: I know the sign says, "No shoes, no shirt, no service", but I just had the WEIRDEST night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early, and I'm really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter. Help? (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,255 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, supernatural

Warnings: Smut

References: 1 Inglourious Basterds

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Graveyard shift is the fucking best — and the fucking worst.

For one, the shop is able to achieve that fine balance between having enough customers to justify its opening hours and keep me on its payroll, and having enough customers to not make me regret my choice of employment while I attempt to sort out my life. The silence that falls over the shop at two o’clock — without fail every night, like the general public know they have better places to be at two o’clock than a corner shop — grants it the perfect atmosphere for self-introspection and self-improvement. Have I learnt anything useful? Let’s … not talk about that.

Now, what’s the downside to this job, you ask? The customers, of course. There are fewer of them in the dead of the night, but God, the ones that do come in … Being situated on one of London’s busiest corners means a colourful clientele at all times of the day. Drunkards and yobs make up a sizeable number of the demographic that contribute to the shop’s cash drawer while I’m on duty. It’s both sickening and fascinating to deal with them. In my nine months of working here, I’ve seen it all — or I thought I have, until my attention is drawn to the naked man at the door.

It’s less than half an hour after sunrise. He doesn’t look like he’s knocked back a drink too many. (Can coffee make me see things I’m not supposed to be seeing at this hour?) He looks to be of sound mind, his franticness to be let inside aside. He’s handsome: his brown waves, wiry physique, and elegant features lend him a startling resemblance to an ancient Greek sculpture. Strangely, there is an abundance of scars all over his body, and not in a manner that’d signal self-harm. They look more consistent with animal scratches. I’m speaking from experience here: I have a cat, though it’s nigh impossible a cat did this to him.

Nonetheless, this ranks in the lower half of the top ten weirdest shit I’ve seen while on the clock.

‘Hello? Hello!’ That ought to be what he’s saying; I don’t proclaim myself to be an expert at lip reading. It’s encouraging that he’s aware of the sign preventing his entry and doesn’t think he’s above it, at least.

I shake my head at him. Rules are rules, mate. They apply even to hot, naked men.

‘Come on! Please?’ — I think.

‘Sorry!’ I shout, and I point at the camera above me. Colin, my manager, is a cool bloke. It’s about as likely that I’d lose my job for letting Mr Naked and Afraid grace the inside of the shop with his presence and providing him with service as it is that Mr Naked and Afraid is on something that isn’t obvious to my innocent eyes. Why tempt fate? There are other corner shops with less draconian policies down the street. I turn away and continue looking at my phone to spare us both our blushes. It is nippy outside …

Fuck it.

I motion for him to come in. I can explain this to Colin, should he decide to review this morning’s security footage on a whim. He’s a Cool Bloke™.

‘Thank you,’ says Mr Naked and Afraid. Fuck, the shop lighting is doing him more favours than he needs. ‘You won’t get in any trouble for this?’

‘Nah. I might get chewed out1 for this, but that’ll be the worst of it.’

‘Sorry. But thank you. Thank you. I’m George.’

Good. Mr Naked and Afraid is becoming a mouthful.

‘I’m Eva. How can I help, George?’

‘Do you have any spare clothes?’

‘It’s just me here, mate.’

‘I know. Can’t hurt to ask.’

Can I say, ‘You have balls’? Is that appropriate at a time like this? I exhale audibly. ‘Give me a second.’ I retreat into the staffroom behind the counter. Colin deserves a better staffroom than a lad hangout. I’ll clean up when there isn’t a naked man waiting on me outside — or not. I’m not their helper. I sort through the coat rack for something suitable. Andrew is the closest to George in stature, I think. Operating on that approximation, I grab Andrew’s jacket and trousers. I don’t want to have to think too hard about what my co-workers look like underneath their clothes. Besides, Andrew’s clothes have been here for ages. He won’t miss them.

‘Try these,’ I say.

‘Thank you. I’ll clean and return them, I promise.’ He reaches over the counter for the clothes.

‘Not so fast. Give me the craziest reason you’re butt naked, and if I like it, you get the clothes.’

‘Really?’

‘I have to tell my manager something. Might as well be something weird so I don’t get chewed out too hard.’

‘Fine.’ He puts his hands on his hips and looks around the shop — in search of inspiration, perhaps. I’d love to hear what he comes up with. He looks like someone with a good sense of humour. If we’d met elsewhere, I’d have thought about asking for his number and then chickening out at the last minute, because women like me don’t get anywhere with men like him. I keep a lookout on the entrance for any customers or co-workers, mostly because I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else.

‘Clock’s ticking, George.’

‘You didn’t say there’s a time limit.’

‘I’m not the one with my arse out in public.’

‘Alright. I’m a werewolf. I must’ve messed something up, because I got out of my flat last night and woke up in Trafalgar Square. I live in Hampstead. See these scars? It’s all me.’

I stare at him. He’s staring back at me, expecting a response. He looks serious. I — I can’t. I burst out laughing. Of all the things I thought I’d hear, that isn’t one of them.

‘That’s one I haven’t heard before. I love it.’

‘Yeah? Can I then —’

‘Not before you answer one more question, wolf boy.’ I mean that nickname with utmost sincerity.

‘Seriously …?’ Red blotches his cheeks. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘Were you born a werewolf or were you bitten?’

‘How is that relevant?’

‘Humour me.’

He rakes his hair with his fingers, and holds his inhalation and blink long enough for it to mean ‘I should’ve gone to the next corner shop’. Little does he know that his exasperation is making him look more attractive. I’ll treasure this moment forever. ‘Born. You don’t see any bite marks, do you?’

‘Touché. Here.’ I pass him the clothes.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘No, thank you for the laugh,’ I say, looking away from him as he tries Andrew’s trousers on for size. Andrew’s fashion sense is being wasted on us corner shop plebeians. ‘I love horror and supernatural shit. That was perfect.’

‘Cool.’ For fuck’s sake, he can also pull off the loud, brash prints Andrew favours? This is unfair. ‘I’ll pop these in the washer when I get home, and I’ll return them to you …’

‘I’m working tonight. I’ll be here at ten.’ Technically, I start work at midnight. Andrew’s scheduled for the evening shift today, and I’d love to see his face when George returns with his clothes. I can’t remember how long these specific items have been in the staffroom. Plus, like, ten o’clock is an acceptable time to meet someone who lives in Hampstead and probably has standard working hours, isn’t it? ‘If that’s not too late for you.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks again, Eva.’ He’s said the T word so many times, it’s starting to sound weird to my ears. Semantic satiation — that’s what the phenomenon is called. I learnt this from the 3,722nd post I read on Reddit some nights ago.

‘You’re welcome, wolf boy. See you tonight.’

He grins. ‘See you.’

Just as he turns to leave, I swear, I swear on my copy of The Killing Joke with a frayed spine because I put it in the same bag as my water tumbler with a loose cap, I see a flash of fangs.

✦✧✦✧

‘You’re here early,’ says Andrew.

‘It’s midnight somewhere in the world.’ I don’t join him behind the counter. I’m scheduled to start work at midnight, and that is exactly what I’ll do. Overtime means nothing to me. (I say that like it’s applicable in this instance.) ‘Did a guy come in to look for me?’

‘Nope. Hey, do you know what happened to my trousers and jacket? First one’s floral; second one’s mustard.’ Doesn’t it just sound like a ghastly combination? Andrew can pull it off. So can George — both items at the same time. I’ve only seen Andrew in one or the other.

‘Funny story, that.’

‘Share.’

‘Okay, picture this: It’s fuck o’clock in the wee hours of the morning. Sun’s coming up. I’m on my second tumbler of coffee and running out of things to keep myself entertained. Suddenly, a naked bloke is asking to be let in; he’s begging. He doesn’t look drunk or high. I let him in because I’m a bleeding heart at heart. He asks me for spare clothes. Thank God you treat this place like your second closet. I ask him to hit me with the craziest reason he’s naked to help me decide if I should help him. He says he’s a werewolf.’ I am fighting to hold in my laughter. ‘And he says it with the straightest face you can imagine.’

‘Eva, this bloke was hot, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, but —’

‘You’d have given him the clothes no matter what he said.’

‘I didn’t tell you this story for you to call me out like that.’

‘You’re welcome. Does Colin know you breached one of the shop’s sacred creeds?’

‘Does he have to know?’

‘No comment. It’s not my arse on the line.’

‘Colin won’t do me dirty like that. I did a good deed.’

‘… No comment. Am I going to get my stuff back?’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Bollocks, I thought it’s because you like my company.’

‘Why not both?’

The bell above the door jangles, cutting our conversation short. It’s none other than the man of the hour himself. Never have I been this ecstatic to see someone enter the shop. He has no business filling out his grey shirt as well as he is.

‘George! Hi!’ I drown out Andrew’s snicker. Can’t I be excited about speaking with an attractive, charming man who isn’t drunk or in need of goods and services a corner shop can provide in the shop at this time of night? I might also never see him again after this, so as far as I’m concerned, I deserve every second of this.

‘Hello, Eva,’ says George. ‘Got the clothes cleaned like I said I would.’ He shows me the paper bag in his hand. McDonald’s. I can hear Andrew’s heart giving out. ‘Thank you again.’

I take the bag from him and place it on the counter, the golden arches staring Andrew in the face. ‘You’re welcome. You should thank him, too.’ I jerk my thumb at my near-apoplectic co-worker. ‘This is Andrew. The clothes are his.’

‘Thank you,’ George says to the other man, who responds with a tight-lipped nod, still in the midst of computing what he did in a past life to deserve having his clothes returned to him in a McDonald’s paper bag. ‘I followed the instructions on the labels as best I could. If I ruined something, I’d be happy to pay you back for it.’

‘Thanks, mate.’ Andrew takes the clothes out of the bag and gives them a quick once-over. ‘Looks good. You can have the bag back.’ He pushes it toward George with his finger.

‘Okay …’ George takes the bag, flattens and folds it into a neat square, and holds it under his arm. ‘Eva, I can’t — I can’t thank you enough for this morning. Last night was … weird.’ He swallowed.

‘Yeah, sure …’ I wink at him. ‘… wolf boy.’

‘Are you working now?’

‘No, but I will be in’ — I consult my watch — ‘an hour and a half’s time. I came in early because I know I don’t have the same concept of day and night as most people.’

‘Graveyard shift: fun as shit’ is Andrew’s sterling contribution to this part of the conversation. I like that, actually.

‘You didn’t have to — I’m more of a night owl,’ says George. Is that because he has a closer affinity to the night because of what he is? I convince myself it is. ‘Do you want to go get some coffee nearby? It’s the least I can do. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. I should talk to Colin about this soon. ‘Sure, I’d love some coffee. Be a dear and watch the shop for me, will you, Andrew?’

✦✧✦✧

George leads me into his flat. Our bellies are full from dinner. I love and hate eating with him sometimes. I love his company, obviously; I hate that he can put away so much without any of it showing on him. Earlier, he had pork chops, lamb meatball stew, and a fudge brownie with ice cream. I get that he needs all that protein to maintain his figure, and I’d love and support him all the same if he were, but he’s not an Olympics athlete like Michael Phelps. Nonetheless, all that food’s imbued him with oodles of energy, the kind that’s seen us seek to end the night on a more gratifying note at someone’s place. (Mine’s out of the question tonight because my flatmate’s working toward the same goal with her latest squeeze.)

The farthest we make it before the urge to eat each other’s faces overpowers us is the sofa. I’m on top of him, just showering him with gentle kisses on his lips, and sometimes his cheeks and nose. I’m content with savouring his taste for now. His breathing is heavy. He’s warm to the touch. His kisses are more insistent. I yield to his desperate, almost plaintive moans and allow our tongues the pleasure of getting to know each other better. His hand is feverishly fondling my thigh and hip; the latter has developed a mind of its own, grinding up against him. Deciding our mouths couldn’t have all the fun, I move on to his neck, which he kindly bares for me. His throat is thrumming with — growls?

I look up at him and say, ‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hm?’ His eyelids flutter open. I gasp.

Staring back at me are yellow eyes, brilliant and wild.

Oh, my God.

‘George — your —’

‘Why?’ He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Shit.’ I get off him. I see the fangs I thought I saw the first time we met. ‘What’s today’s date?’

‘It’s the eighth.’

‘Fuck!’ The force with which he cursed propels him out of his seat. ‘You have to go. I’m sorry,’ he says, taking off his shirt. His chest sheens with sweat. ‘I forgot.’

I don’t need to ask him what it is he forgot: I know the answer on a primeval level. I know I should leave. I stand transfixed by what’s happening before me. His flesh twists and ripples. The growls get louder. The proportions of the hand on his chest — hairier than I’ve ever known it to be — are all wrong. Poking — pushing out from underneath his fingernails are claws. He turns away from me. The sight of protruding knobs of bone under the skin along his spine causes chills to run down mine. My poor George. My poor wolf boy.

‘I’ll go,’ I say, as much as I want to stay with him. ‘Will you be okay?’ I shake my head. Stupid question. He’s in agony.

‘I’ll be fine.’ There is greater conviction in the violent gurgle that follows than his words. ‘Now go. Please.’ His back arches and expands with muscle. He cries out in pain.

I do as he says. I hear the locks rattle and turn behind me. Though his strained growls and yips are horrible to hear, I stick around outside his door. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I don’t quite feel afraid either of what I saw in there or of what I now know. Instead, I feel … I press my legs together and bite my lip. Not the time. After what feels like an eternity of guttural noises that have no right coming from a human throat, a howl, long, almost melodious, pierces the air. It’s almost … reassuring. So much about him makes sense now.

I take my phone from my bag, and I send him the following: ’Text me when you see this. Love you.’

✦✧✦✧

I shift on my feet as I wait for George to answer the door. I’m worried about him. Does he not want to see me anymore after last night? No, it’s an insult to the both of us for me to think that he thinks I’d be narrow-minded enough to stop wanting to be with him because of what he is. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. The food I brought for him is getting cold. Can he smell it from inside his flat? I press the doorbell again. I wish he had a neighbour to tell me what I can do in times like this.

The door opens. He looks a mess: he’s in boxers, and his hair is sticking out every which way. His eyes go wide. The memory of his yellow eyes resurfaces. I feel a little weak in my knees.

‘Good morning, love. I came to see if everything is okay,’ I say, ‘and I brought breakfast.’ I show him the paper bag. The food inside still smells good.

‘I thought —’ He doesn’t need to complete his sentence for me to know what he means. It’s written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the sadness in his eyes. Damn it. I didn’t want to be proven right about that.

‘Of course not. You didn’t see my message?’

‘I haven’t checked my messages. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’

‘Please, come in. Are you off work today?’

I nod.

His flat, too, is in disarray. It looks just as if an animal went wild in here. Pillows and books are all over the floor; some of the former have been ripped apart. Sunlight shines through the gaping holes in the curtains. Nothing’s broken, at least. George’s head hangs low. ‘I haven’t had the time to clean up … nor was I expecting visitors. I called in sick to work and went back to sleep. I forget what happens when I don’t take my meds before I transform.’

‘Let me guess — the last time that happened was a year ago?’

‘Yeah, probably. I don’t know. That was — that was different. I guess I was too excited about our date that I forgot what yesterday was.’

I walk him to the sofa, and we sit down. The food is left to sit out on the coffee table. ‘It’s okay,’ I say, stroking his arm lovingly. ‘I wasn’t … I’m not freaked out or anything. I love horror and supernatural shit after all.’ I chuckle nervously, more so because I hate my tendency to resort to awful humour in an attempt to defuse tense situations. ‘So, um … I owe you an apology for laughing at you when you first told me.’

‘Don’t. I could’ve said something else. I didn’t. I wanted the clothes fast, and after the night I’d had, that was the most out-there thing I could think of in a snap.’

‘Yeah, then I made it into a thing between us! I call you “wolf boy”! You never asked me to stop! And I told everyone how we met! Everyone knows you’re a werewolf!’ I gasp. So. Many. Exclamation. Marks.

‘This is our thing. Only you know for certain. I feel like I can breathe now.’

I lay my head on his chest. ‘You don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to hide.’

‘That first sentence sounds like something I’m supposed to say.’

‘So, George … about last night … was that because you were about to — or …’

His words come out almost in a snarl: ‘I wanted you. I want you.’ His lips are centimetres away from my neck. His breath is hot on my skin.

‘Are we like … mates now, then?’ I giggle as I draw an indiscriminate shape on his chest with my finger. I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time last night reading up on wolf behaviour. The thought of what lies in store for me is a little exhilarating, an observation I had a mild developmental crisis over when I felt that first pang of passion from applying what I read to our relationship.

‘Yes.’

He licks my neck. My core tingles with excitement at the ramifications of his declaration — for the record, I meant it as a light-hearted question — and at what’s about to come next, based on my research. Then he pushes me down onto my back, and I see his eyes, still blue, flicker with the same intensity as last night. He hikes up my dress and gets straight to nuzzling my mound. He laps his tongue over my underwear and inner thighs, the strokes long, soft. I hum impatiently. My underwear is getting soaked. He slides it off my pelvis, and he promptly buries his face in my folds. Fingers come into the picture soon after. I writhe in his grasp, desiring release.

And Lord, does it come.

I don’t get to wait for my legs to stop quivering, as he rises from between them and says, ‘On all fours, love’, his voice a lusty rasp. I scramble to my hands and knees. He’s never asked for this before. I’m liking this greater sense of freedom he now has around me. How much had he been holding back? I spread myself for him. He pushes his cock up against my slit. I let out a small, startled ‘Oh’ when he enters me. I feel pinpricks where his fingertips are. Each thrust is deep and brutal. It hurts a little, but it hurts so good. I press the side of my face into the couch and close my eyes. Stars crash into each other in the blackness behind my eyelids.

Though he’s the werewolf here, I’m the one whimpering and moaning like an animal, too, while he huffs and growls with each movement. The sounds encourage him. ‘Please, don’t stop, don’t stop …’ I breathe. My walls convulse around his girth and fill up with an unbearable heat and wetness. Come drips out of me and trickles down my thighs. Then his thrusts become shallower and rough, his fingertips threaten to leave bruises on my skin, and he empties himself inside me. He lets out a strangled howl; my lip almost bleeds from how hard I’m biting down.

I feel so empty, almost a little sad, when he pulls out. I settle into a lounging position on the sofa. He wedges himself behind me. I gently fondle his business, still hard. He resumes licking my neck, sometimes rubbing his face on my skin.

‘I’m sorry if that was … weird. It’s the first time I fucked like that — and the first time I fucked after the full moon.’

I turn around and kiss him. ‘You were amazing.’ His ears turn pink. ‘Am I your first girlfriend who knows?’

‘Yes. About being mates …’ He pulls me closer to him. ‘I can do something about that. If you want. No pressure. It’s a huge decision.’

I won’t lie and say I didn’t consider the idea at least once last night. The dream I had about transforming and running alongside him on all fours can attest to that. But I tell him, ‘I need to think about it first.’ I don’t want him to think I’m rushing headlong into something I have little to no knowledge about. (Tabbing back and forth between pages about wolf behaviour for at least two hours doesn’t make me an expert. I’m not even sure if it’s relevant.) I also wasn’t expecting this question to come up so soon, considering he thought I’d leave him. I sweep my thumb across his lips, then his nose. ‘Maybe if I see you in your wolf form first …’

‘Fair enough. Promise me you’ll still love me the same after you’ve seen him. He’s more fun than I am, even when hopped up on industrial-strength bear tranquiliser.’

‘It’s going to take a lot to top what I’ve seen in the last year — and the last hour.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m in trouble.’

I spend the day at his place. (What? I’m taking a mental health day, and being with my boyfriend does wonders for my mood.) We fuck several more times, unable to get enough of each other; we’re like lovesick puppies. He lets shades of his true self slip through on occasion. He assures me it’s not because of the full moon. I assure him I know. Until today, I didn’t think it’d been possible for him to become more alluring. I give him my answer to his offer before sunset, which he happily accepts. At the end of the day, I lie in my wolf boy’s arms, waxing gratitude for the graveyard shift at the corner shop a year ago.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine

[darthkruge]

Hi! I've seen that in your recent post you've been trying to make characters more gender neutral which I think is awesome! I'm gonna try and make my request gender neutral as well! I was wondering if you could do a criminal minds imagine (I'll let you choose the character that you wanna write it for cus I love Morgan, Hotch, and Reid equally) where the reader was taken by the unsub but they found her right before the unsub tried to (tw) k!ll the reader. If possible can the end be kinda fluffy♡

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Maybe

Summary: The classic kidnapping fic where the reader is taken by the unsub and Spencer finds them. Fluffy, comfort-filled ending <3

Warnings: Angst, language, violence, blood, guns, knives, torture, near-death experience, kidnapping in general, (happy ending I promise)

Words: 2.2k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me for taking so long to get to this!! And thank you for making your request gender neutral, too! That’s so thoughtful and sweet! And I decided to go with Spencer, although I also love them all. And yes the end will definitely be fluffy, as the angst with a happy/fluffy ending is basically my brand at this part. Thank you for requesting and, again, I’m so sorry for making you wait, I hope you like this!

You woke up and could only register pain. Well, pain and cold. Mind numbing, cuts to your bones, pierces your brain, cold. You tried to look around and get a sense of your surroundings but it was so dark; you could barely make out the shadows in the room, let alone any defining details.  

Judging by the old, dirty smell, you guessed you were in a barn or shed somewhere. You had no idea where; the asshole must have knocked you out. You’d been working the case for weeks. The team thought they found some DNA and were tailing the guy, but it didn’t pan out and, since then, the trail had basically been cold. But then you finally figured out what number to trace, cracked his encoded router, and got a license plate and ID. George Craig. On your way to tell the team, he had messed with your car and was able to jump you. Fuck, you hated him. 

Even so, you refused to give up. You had faith in your team and, most of all, you had faith in Spencer. Your brilliant, gorgeous boyfriend. You loved him more than anything and there was no one in the world you’d want on the case more than him. You knew the team was already looking for you, as it was only 10am when he got you and it was probably at least 7pm now, judging by the temperature and darkness. 

You tried to move your arms but your shoulders screamed in protest. You felt the chains around your legs and the handcuffs binding you to a pole above you. Judging from the pain, your shoulder was almost definitely dislocated. You were sitting at an awkward angle and could already feel your joints tightening. The frigid air definitely wasn’t helping, making your muscles contract and body stiff. 

“Hello, Agent L/N”

Your entire body stilled at that moment, sheer panic running through your veins. Stay calm, Y/N, stay calm. You tried to will air into your lungs, forcing deep breaths even though the terror was screaming at you to close up. You knew this man fed on fear and, thus, your best chance of survival was to pretend you were unphased. Even so, the logic felt severely discomforting with him standing above you, knife and gun in hand. 

“George. What the fuck do you want from me?” Your voice was venomous, the pure hate for him clearly pictured on your face. You decided that if an emotion was going to show, you preferred hate to fear. 

“My, my, my, look at you! I thought you were supposed to be smart. Or is that trait left for your boyfriend. Agent Reid, was it?”

Your blood ran cold. “Leave him out of this.”

“Ohhh, looks like I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I?” The man had a horrifying smirk on his face, clearly enjoying your struggle. 

You glared at him. “You never answered my question”

“Oh, yes!” George chuckled, “What the fuck do you want from me?” He said, mimicking your voice mockingly. “To kill you, of course. To take you away from Spencer, from the team. To make them feel the pain of losing someone, just like I lost-” 

He trailed off and you saw his eyes burn with anger. And under that anger, you knew there was pain. Even so, you couldn’t feel bad for this man, regardless of who he’d lost. You knew that at the slightest hint of your empathy, he’d take advantage of it and kill you on the spot. 

“You know what? Death would be too easy for you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery. Then, and only then, will I shoot you. I will watch the blood run out of the bullet hole and smile, knowing the pain I caused you and your precious team.”

You wanted to cry, the fear pulling at you. Once again, you pushed it down and channeled your rage. Rage because you were in this situation. Rage because this man had ended so many lives. Rage because you were powerless right now. Rage because holy fuck your shoulder hurt. Gathering the fury, you spat at him. 

George’s mouth twisted into a sneer as he brought his leg up and slammed it into your chest. You heaved, the wind knocked out of you. Before you could grasp the air you so desperately needed, George kicked you again. And again. And again. You could feel the bruises forming, your ribs throbbing painfully.

He pulled his fist up and pummeled it into your cheek. Your left cheekbone busted open on impact and your lip split as he backhanded the other side of your face. He slammed the butt of his gun into your temple and your vision swayed, body crumpling as far in on itself as it could, given the restraints. 

He kicked at your legs repeatedly, both of them twisting at painful angles. You felt yourself start to black out, the pain unbearable. Every inch of your skin was ablaze, every muscle felt like it had been sledgehammered. Your bones ached, your body numb from his onslaught, the freezing cold, and the restrictive bonds you’d been in for hours. 

Finally, he took a moment to stop. He looked at you, at your barely conscious and recognizable state. You were beaten to a pulp, your face and body bloodied and broken. You could feel yourself wanting to give in but forced yourself to stay. For yourself, for Spencer, for the team. For that future you always talked about with him. For the house you were saving for, for the dogs and cats and animals you might one day get. For the family you might decide to have. For the idea of peace, you fought. 

George picked up the gun and pointed it at your head. A shot rang free and you braced yourself, a single tear running down your cheek as you realized you would never see your love again. Your ears rang and you felt like time had slowed. You knew the bullet would hit you. Until-

“Y/N, Y/N!” Your name was being called, the gentle yet panicked voice cutting through the ringing in your head. You tentatively opened your eyes and saw George’s body on the floor, blood oozing out of him. You slowly moved your eyes around, trying to take in your surroundings. 

Everything was overwhelming. Nothing was registering properly in your brain. It was just sounds filtering in an out, vision flickering. You felt like you were floating through the ringing in your ears. Tears ran down your cheeks as you shook. You didn’t know why you were shaking. The cold. The shock, you reasoned. Both seemed likely. It was like there was an overwhelming sense of calm. Your body was shutting down. Somehow, this gave you understanding. 

You felt the handcuffs around your wrists release and your arms dropped limply. You knew you should feel pain from your dislocated shoulder but, instead, you just let your eyes closed and felt your body fall. The last thing you remembered was coming into contact with a Kevlar vest, messy brown hair, and a familiar sense of warmth. 

When you awoke, you felt yourself being gently jostled. Your eyes slowly opened and you took in him. Spencer was looking at you, concern evident on his features.

“Hi.” You said, voice hoarse. 

“Hi, angel. Let’s get you inside, alright?”

You nodded, allowing him to help support your weight as you stepped out of the car. You leaned heavily into him, your legs badly injured. Spencer wrapped his arm snug around your waist as the two of you slowly but surely made it into your shared apartment. 

He helped you sit on the couch before moving to join you. 

“I’m surprised they let you take me home. I thought I’d wake up in a hospital, for sure.”

“They did take you there, love. You were at the hospital for a few hours but you were in and out of consciousness. You’ll heal, don’t worry. A few broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, severe bruising, sprains on your legs and ankles.”

“Plus a busted face” You add drily.

 Spencer wasn’t amused by your attempt at sarcasm. Instead, he just pushed your hair behind your ear and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have gotten there sooner, I should have been with you! If I was there, if I was quicker-”

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself for this! No one could have known. Besides, you saved me. And I’m not just talking about that in the literal sense. When he was beating me, when I was broken down, I thought of you.  I thought of our future, our dream. Holding onto that is the only reason I didn’t give up.”

Spencer’s eyes were filled with tears as he went to gently cup your face. He couldn’t find the words to express the love and relief he felt. “I’m just glad you’re back in my arms” 

You moved to hug him but winced. Even though the doctors had patched you up pretty well, the soreness and pain lingered and probably would continue like that for at least the next couple of days. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s go to bed. I think you’ll feel better once you lay down, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You followed him into the room, holding his hand the entire time. Spencer noticed but didn’t mind, he knew you were just looking for comfort, exceedingly normal for what you’d just gone through. 

You laid down, settling against the pillows and fluffy blankets Spencer had prepared for you. 

“Do you need anything, baby?”

“Water?”

“Of course.” He smiled at you before moving to get up but you quickly grabbed his hand, panic overtaking you at the thought of being alone. You looked at him helplessly, hoping your gaze would convey the words that died on your tongue. 

Spencer nodded knowingly. He helped you out of bed, pulling you along with him as the two of you went to the kitchen. He wordlessly got you the drink, making sure to keep touching you the entire way. Finally, you made it back and the both of you crawled into bed. You laid on your uninjured shoulder, placing your cheek on Spencer’s chest. His arm came around you, holding you to him and drawing soothing circles into your skin. 

You closed your eyes and were immediately sent back to the shed. You tensed, pulling back. Spencer caught on and looked deeply into your eyes. “You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t get to you anymore.”

“I know. Rationally, I know. But my brain won’t shut off. It’s like, whenever I’m not actively thinking about something else or looking at something else or hearing something else, it just comes back. Spence, I can’t- I can’t sleep. I just, I’m sure it’ll come back to me tonight.” Your voice broke, tears spilling onto your cheeks. “I don’t think I can handle reliving it and I’m so fucking exhausted. But I can’t rest because I can’t escape the nightmares.”

Spencer wanted so badly to comfort you but didn’t know what he could do. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take the pain away. He wished he could put the trauma onto himself but, unfortunately, he was powerless. Thus, he offered understanding. He gave validation. He gave kindness and pure, nonjudgmental love. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m here for you and I know that doesn’t do much right now but I am. I’ll be here when the nightmares come and I’ll be here when the flashbacks try and drag you under. I’ll be here when the trauma starts to fade but suddenly reappears and I’ll be here 20 years from now, when the memory will still be real and painful but not all-consuming. I’ll be here forever, I’ll be here always. Please, tell me what to do to help you.” Spencer begged, hoping beyond all hope that there was something he could do to ease your suffering.

“Read to me?”

“Wha- what?”

“Read to me.” You repeated, more assured this time. “I’m thinking that if I can hear your voice, maybe it’ll drown out my brain. Or something. I don’t know. I just want to hear your voice, it’s soothing. Please?”

Spencer was taken aback. He didn’t think something so simple could help you. He didn’t know his sheer presence brought you that much serenity. “Yeah, of course. Of course! Yeah, any preference?”

“Not really. Whatever’s here?”

“Okay, love.” Spencer picked up his current read and began in the middle. You felt the rumble of his chest, the vibrations of his voice and felt more at ease. The anxiety was still there, the panic never far away. And yet, curled into him, his breath tickling your ear, his body warming yours, it suddenly felt alright. Like maybe you hadn’t gone through some life-altering trauma. Or maybe you had but your life wasn’t over because of it. Maybe you’d heal. Maybe, if you could find a moment of peace now, you’d find more later. Maybe? Yeah, You thought. You could work with maybe.

--

i just made a taglist so if you want to join, go ahead!

tags: 

@saltybreaddream

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #megan writes

[bedtimebrain]

EXO Baekhyun: Cry for Love Part 1

Boldly writing this very unlikely scenario about baek. Part of me just feels like there might be a part of baek that might be in such a situation if he ever feels so deeply for someone that is not be able to handle the stress of dating an idol.

Using the song title of one of my favourite songs from his latest album for this~ there’s going to be 2 parts(hopefully not 3), and just a disclaimer the ending might not be fluff, so don’t get started if you’re not prepared !

Edit: Part 2 is up! (No part 3 tho, thankfull)

Part 2

Characters: Baek x You

Baekhyun finds himself falling for you, but feels he cannot be so selfish to put the burdens of dating an idol upon you. In an attempt to control his feelings, he tries to stay away from you

Standing across the narrow road opposite to Wendy Cafe, Baekhyun looked intently inside, with a sort of sourness at the back of his throat. This is at least 5th time this guy has been here, and it’s been the second time this week already. His inner self was literally scowling at that thought, but what could he do?

His phone that vibrated in his pocket called him out of his thoughts. It was a call from his manager, asking him to return to the SM building.

Taking one last look at you, at the guy, and at the cafe, he placed both his hands back in his pocket, head facing down and walked back to where his car was.

During the ride back, he thought long and hard, was this the right thing to do?  Just 4 months ago, was the first step into the cafe the beginning to this unwanted path ?

He can’t help but replay once again all that started 4 months ago...

——

‘Bye! See you next week!’

Ending his gym session for the week, baekhyun headed for the carpark, eager to get there quickly. Today, he was to be home for a family dinner.

He had been up till late yesterday, practicing and preparing for EXO’s new album. With just 4hours of sleep, his ruined body clock woke him up in time for a gym session in the afternoon. Beating himself to be disciplined so that he can show his best image to Eris during the comeback, he got himself to the gym. 

But now, the sweat from the gym session coupled with his sleep debt, was making him feel extra sleepy.

Needing some caffeine in his system, he stopped his car by the roadside to search up coffee houses nearby. Scrolling through, Starbucks -too crowded , dal.kom- he was not a fan , Daebak Coffee and Tea - seems very popular among reviews, Wendy Cafe - no reviews.

Feeling it’s best to avoid crowded cafes on a Friday afternoon, he decided to give Wendy Cafe a try. Following the voice of Google maps, he found himself along a narrow road, secluded and outcasted from the bustling roads just 2 minutes ago.

‘Am I at the right place? Why would someone open a cafe here?’ He loudly spoke in a typical monologue with himself

Just as he was about to give up, a small signboard peeked out from the brick wall stretching along the road.

‘Ah yes, found you! I hope I didn’t make the wrong choice’

After parking his car, he crossed the road to the cafe.

Wendy’s Cafe was clad in wood and white, wooden tables, white chairs, surrounded by grey walls. It was so small only about 6 people could be seated by the tables. To make up for it, a counter-side table was made available and soft music played in the background. Walking in, Baekhyun felt a comfortable sense of peace and relax.

‘Hello, 1 Ice Americano please’

‘Hello, that will be $5.. omo’ Just as you looked up at him, you were shocked to recognise him as Baekhyun from EXO. But you quickly recovered in time, taking the money from him and continued your chores.

Seeing that you have recognised him, he nodded politely. He appreciated your politeness and professionalism to not overreact. And proceed to wait patiently for his coffee.

‘Thank you, have a nice day’ you smiled brightly at him and handed the coffee over.

Just then, it started pouring heavily outside, stopping Baekhyun in his tracks.

‘Should I drive back now ? It’s a long journey back and it’s raining so heavily ...’ he thought

‘Do you want to wait out the rain instead? It’s not too safe to drive in such heavy rain. No one comes here on rainy days, I can put out the close sign for you if you like’ 

You asked rather sincerely 

Looking out again at the rain, he weighed his choices. He was going to be drenched if he crossed the road but what if you were one of those fans that would expose where he was to everyone? 

He was feeling a little suspicious inside, afterall why would you close the shop to business just for him?

‘You can take the table furthest away from the window if you’re worried’

He looked at you, judging a book by it’s cover. And decided it doesn’t appear like you would turn out to be one of those crazy fans and took the option of waiting out the rain. 

His phone was running out of battery, so instead of sitting by the corner table all bored and lonely, Baekhyun sat on the bar counter table instead; facing you and the other male employee who were busy with fresh bakes.

You presented a bite size muffin on a white plate and gave it over to him. ‘It’s on the house, we’re not going to have any more customers anyway’

Being curious since the start, he asked ‘why would your boss open a cafe right here? It’s really not the best location to be attracting people right?’

Laughing slightly, you replied

‘My boss? That would be me, and does this cafe look like I want to attract people in? The tables are all for 2s, I’m just encouraging solitude here’

‘You own this place? Wow I would suppose you’re only in your early 20s right? Anyway this place does give a sense of quietness that we dont quite get outside. I like it’ He lively replied

‘Yeah, I just wanted people that come by to be able to stop and find quietness they don’t get anywhere else. Finding time for themselves to be away from noisy city life just a few minutes away’

Not really having anything to say to that deep thought of yours, he simply replied ‘Ahh... I see. Uh, thanks for muffin, it smells tasty’

You smiled politely and left him to himself as you cleaned up the open kitchen.

The rain that was beating the ground outside was almost like a lullaby to Baekhyun. The warmth of the shop and the music aided the rain and drowsy effects he was having, shortly without knowing, he drifted to sleep. --

‘Baekhyun ssi, Baekhyun ssi’ you tapped him lightly till he woke up

‘It stopped raining, do you want to head off’

‘Oh my , can’t believe I slept, but that was certainly the quietness I need, haha. I’ll be leaving. Thank you for the coffee’

As he left, he thought to himself that he will surely be back.

—

A week later, he came back. On that day, he saw from outside that you were casually sitting down by on of the tables, chatting with a middle age office lady.

Opening the door, he caught your attention and you smiled slightly to acknowledge. As you were the only working employee today, you got up from the table to serve him.

‘Hi Baekhyun ssi, I see you’re back. Ice americano for you? Or would you like to try something else? Wendy’s special for a bright sunny day’

‘Sure I’ll go for the Wendy’s special’

Handing over the coffee to baekhyun, you asked

‘I heard EXO’s preparing for a comeback. How’s it going for you?’

‘Did you search up on EXO after you saw me last week? Hahaha. Anyway it’s fine, it’s just the discipline in diet, exercise and health that’s annoying’

‘I see. And nah, don’t make me sound like a stalker fan please. I just moderately keep up with kpop in general’

‘Anyway is the middle age lady there your friend? Or do you just chat with your customers all the time?’

‘Oh, she’s just a customer. Really depends though, some people come here seeming to have heavy thoughts, sometimes when I notice I’ll just casually chat with them. Some others are here really putting up a do not disturb sign. Those I wouldn’t bother’

Being cheeky, Baekhyun asked ‘what about me?’

You thought for a while before answering

‘Like a cat? Like those I would give some affection to before letting them run off so they don’t start scratching me. I mean not saying you would be aggressive, but rather, I’m sure a good balance of chat and quietness would be best for you’

Raising his brows and thinking through what you just said, he smiled after a while and went on sipping his Wendy’s special by the counter again. Occasionally, he would look up from his phone to chat with you.

—-

For that 1 month, it seems like he started developing a routine to drop by your cafe for short breaks. He enjoyed your company and somehow your cafe seemed like a place of comfort and refuge. With you, he could talk about anything, from the laughters to the deep insides. Over there, the burdens of being an idol is always momentarily lifted.

On the first week of the 2nd month you guys met. He dropped by again, only to find that the lights were off. A little surprised, he went up to the door which pasted a notice

‘the shop will be closed till further notice due to the owner’s personal reasons. Sorry for any inconvenience caused’

His regular high spirits whenever he came by was dampened as he read the notice. Turning back, he headed off.

The next two weeks, he drove by repeatedly, at least 2 times a week, but your shop was still closed.

It made him a little worried, did something happen to you? But seeing how you left this shop behind with just a notice also made him feel a little down, strangely. It made him think that was he nothing but just a customer to you? He had thought you guys were friends, friends with a special bond, one who he could tell everything to, and place so comfortable almost like his home sofa. But the sign that hung coolly by the cafe’s door left no sign of that friendship held.

Whenever he wasn’t working or was by himself, he pondered over what happened to you. Looking at his phone, he suddenly felt a disconnect. You both knew so many things bout each other but not each other’s numbers. There was nothing to call to reach you. Wherever you are, were you thinking about what you left behind?

He thought to himself 

let’s not be too invested into this coincidental friendship

He made up his mind, tomorrow he was going to make a final intentional trip down. If you were still closed, he told himself he would never drop by intentionally again just to check if you were open.

—-

Driving by the next day, his heart was beating fast. And was as if the heavens heard his words, the lights of your cafe were on.

The sign outside still hung closed, but he walked briskly over and stood by the door. You saw him and beckoned him inside.

‘Hey! What’s up with you? Where did you go? ’ Within him he heaved a sigh of relief, finally seeing you again. But his heart wouldn’t stop racing as he waited for your answer. Looking at your face, he can’t help but notice you’ve lost some weight, making him a little worried.

‘Hey Baekhyun ssi, it’s nice seeing you again’

You smiled at him your normal smile and there was no hint of anything extra apart from the normal customer service you gave him. Your lukewarm reply bothered him a little, was he the only one who considered you both as friends? That thought came but left quickly

‘I went home to visit my parents, unfortunately I fell ill. Pneumonia.. Got me in bed for a really long time’

‘Oh no, no wonder you lost some weight? I hope you’re feeling much better already. But you’re not opened today?’

‘Yes I just came back to tidy up this place.’

Not really wanting to leave yet, he offered to clean the place for you, also worried you might not be feeling the most recovered yet.

‘Do you want to have dinner together tonight?’ Baekhyun asked on impulse.

You looked up, a little surprise, but didn’t reject it. 

‘Probably not at restaurants or something though. Delivery , do you mind?’ He added

You were never someone who seemed bothered about such trivial things, as expected you agreed.

Over dinner Baekhyun was his chirpy self again, telling you about all he wanted to say the few weeks you guys didn’t met. You listened to him without much words, only saying words when it mattered, as usual.

As you guys were eating and chatting, there came a point where a comfortable silence settled between you both.

Till you broke it

‘Baekhyun ssi, can I share something with you?’

Though he wasn’t expecting this, he was ready to listen.

‘Go ahead’

‘When I went back, I found out my one and only best friend had died in a car accident. And no one told me because they were afraid I wouldn’t be able to handle it alone in Seoul. He.. was all I had.. when I was bullied because people thought I was weird... when I didn’t fit in... he.. he..’ you couldn’t continue as you burst into uncontrollable tears.

Handling such situations was definitely not something Baekhyun was most comfortable with. Catching him off guard, he internally panicked, Omo, what do I do. What should I say? Deciding the only appropriate thing to do was to pat your back or your head. He reached out and gently comfort you, feeling a little awkward.

After a good 3 minutes you finally calmed down. But still, Baekhyun didn’t exactly know what to say to a crying girl

‘Are you feeling better? Care for some BingBing now? Ice cream cannot solve your problems, but it’s sweet at least ’

You managed a laugh, and Baekhyun went to the kitchen fridge to pull out the ice cream that came with the dinner earlier.

On the drive home, Baekhyun decided that sometimes a friend is the ultimate remedy to sorrow. And as much as you have been there to hear him out, he wanted to pay it back to you too. 

——

But slowly, their comeback preparations were getting more and more hectic. He no longer had the liberty of time to plan what he wanted to do. But today, there was a short 2 hour interval of free time and they were free to do whatever they wanted.

Deciding between whether to crash at dance practice room or to head to your cafe, he decided to do the latter instead. Though he was feeling rather tired, it has been at least 3 weeks since he came by to say hi. He left after telling suho he’ll be back swiftly.

—

Reaching your cafe, he was surprised to see you smiling and laughing so heartily as you were chatting by the counter with a fashionable young man. When you both spoke, you were always giving him polite smiles and laughters, somewhat out of manners? It somehow hurt his pride a little that while he still thought about you when he was away, did you just think of him as a normal customer who would just come and go? It made him feel like his spot in the cafe was easily replaceable.

As he entered, you did not even break away from the conversation you have with the young man. Only until he reached the counter did you look up.

‘Ah! It’s you! It’s been really long! What would you like today ?’

‘6 Iced americanos, thank you’

‘Alright you can take a seat at the corner table first’ handing him his change , you pointed him to the one at the furthest end of the shop.

He came by having the intention to have a short catch up with you, but apart from the exchange of greetings you had pointed him so far away from the counter and busily went off to prepare the amercianos as if he really was just another customer. He laughed a little bitterly and went to sit where you told him to.

When you were done, you brought the coffee to him and dropped to a whisper suddenly.

‘Baekhyun ssi, are you doing well? Sorry I had to cut our conversation short at the counter because of the oppa sitting there. Didn’t want to bring you trouble in case I accidentally say your name’

Smacking himself on the head internally for being so sensitive earlier on, inside of him also wondered what kind of magic does that ‘oppa’ have for you to be so comfortable? The friendship has almost been 3 months but there always seem to be a strange distance between the both of you. Baekhyun knew himself that his personally was not one people found hard to warm up to and neither did he take very long to warm up to others. He was confused, how sometimes your friendship felt so close yet sometimes so far.

‘How have you been? That guy’s your new customer friend?’

‘Not too bad, I started attending some baking classes and in my free time now I just read as usual. Nothing much as changed.

Yeh he’s been coming quite often because he’s back in this area to visit his parents and there’s nothing for him to do’

‘Ahhhh so what kind of customer is he?’ He arrowhead his eyes at him then back to you.

Laughing you replied ‘ just a really funny and nonsensical kind. Kind of just reminds me of my childhood friend I told you about.... oh right, there’s something I want to give you’

Rushing to the kitchen then quickly walking out, you handed him a box. You explained

‘Baekhyun ssi that day I was at a mall and i walked by this tea shop and I dont know why,I thought about you. It’s all without caffeine. I know you’re having your comeback now and you should be really busy. I purposely picked out some that would help you sleep, some that would revitalise you and just some others that could just help you relax.

I’ve kept it for so long but you didn’t come by again. I almost just kept it for myself already.. anyway I’m glad you’re here today so I could pass it to you’

Hearing this from you really made him touched on the inside, but on the outside he didn’t really know let those emotions show. Instead, he merely said

‘Thanks y/n ssi , for thinking about me. I’ll use them well.’ Looking at his watch , he added,

‘I got to go now, see you sometime soon!’

After saying the goodbyes, Baekhyun returned to his car. Setting his Americanos aside, he held the gift in his hand and looked through his driver’s window at you.

At that very moment he finally came to terms with his feelings.

He did not just want a friendship with you, he wanted you as a partner he could tell his everything to, someone that belonged to him and someone he belonged to.

This should make him feel happy and elated, warm and fuzzy. But there was discomfort lying in his heart.

Deep down he knew that desiring anything more than a friendship with you was putting chains on you.

You liked quietness and freedom. But in his world, parts of his life are made public and his freedom was not really freedom at all.

He cannot sink deeper into this, but could he stay away ? His heart clenched.

He tossed the gift aside and drove off.

—

To be continued!!

Sorry for stopping at such an awkward place, but I couldn’t find a good place to stop this at, hahaha.

Anw, I’m sure you guys already know bout baek’s medical condition? My respect and love for baek just hit another level. I really think we are such lucky fangirls to be stanning someone like him. The effort he puts in for us is above and beyond what is required. Sigh. Baek I hope you know we really appreciate you💛

Tag(s): @wooya1224

Edit: Part 2

#baekhyun #exo fanfic #exo #exo scenario #exo scenarios #byun baekhyun #bambi #baekhyun bambi #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios

[ignify-caligo]

its me againnnn do u have any drunk or embarassing hcs abt eldain or ciaran??

To be honest, your being one of the sole ones who keep sending me asks, which I’m extremely grateful for! Especially when it comes to the character choice, it’s just *chef kiss* noice ~ Also, I don’t believe I have to say who I’m gonna pick between option a and b (spoiler: it’s option c – both of them :3) So, without dragging this further, let me share a little on these elfy men!

🍺: A drunk headcanon

💩: An embarrassing headcanon

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

🍺: A drunk headcanon

Eldain

Eldain’s a wild card without adding alcohol into the mix, so you can surely imagine what reaction comes with blending these two together. Generally, he’s a fifty/fifty on how his personality changes after drinking, either it’s staring into the void with a melancholic gaze or ‘don’t even breath in my presence or you're dead.’ That’s the basic switch in his behavior, sometimes miraculously, he ends up being a goofy laughing mess, filling the conversations with dirty jokes or funny stories he normally wouldn’t share. It’s usually connected to the reasons ‘why’ his reaching for the bottle. When it’s the ghosts of the past or regrets, he ends up with an even more depressing attitude, while if he’s been pissed off numerous times, he’s gonna be a ticking bomb – more deadly than he’s sober. Condolences to the people who have pissed him during the drinking/celebrations, because he’s known for having the best memory, even when he is unable to stand up from the bed cause of the hangover. Luckily for him, there is someone special who takes care of his sorry ass during recovery.

Ciaran

This man has the biggest personality switch when you compare him being sober and not. From being a quiet and reserved second in command, he turns into a touchy-feely fellow with his heart upon the sleeve. Many also count him into the ‘reckless drunk’ category, but he needs to be incredibly stoned to cross the line. Under that kind of alcohol influence, he’s prone to quite interesting stunts. He really needs to be in an incredible nasty mood for him to not fall into those ‘categories.’ When he simply broods in his lonesome, his nose never living the inside of his glass/cup. Try to mention anything of personal value to him (like his crushes, embarrassing moments, etc.) and he will snap at you like an upset chihuahua. Compared to Eldain’s “drunk anger”, Ciaran’s more of the ‘bark a lot, isn’t really going to bite’ type. Though everyone has their limit at some point then he’s going to just slam his cup down and go out. Ironically, Ciaran’s going to be mad over the thing that angered him until the alcohol wears off and the hangover kicks in banging. He’s being thought of as, the one with the shittiest memory capacity. After sleeping out the alcohol in his bunk bed, he doesn’t remember any coherent situations just snippets without any real context. It has become a thing for someone to let him in on everything that has happened during their drinking parties.

💩: An embarrassing headcanon

Eldain

This is a story from before the pogrom that has been the reason for him to join the Scoia’tael. He doesn’t remember who was responsible for his insecurity at that time, but he was trying to ‘step on the breaks’ when it came to his consumption of sweets. He was quite the sweet tooth at the time and the fact that his sibling, Caron, was into baking/making any kind of desserts wasn’t helpful at all. They tried to reason with him that the person’s comment wasn’t such a big deal and that he should enjoy himself, instead of keeping himself in a dictatorship-like control. Even that didn’t help ease Eldain’s insecurities, and he pushed on banning himself from eating any sweets. He was surprisingly making some progress, that is until Caron hasn’t decided to bake a carrot cake of course. In the middle of the night, Caron woke up to the sounds of rustling in the kitchen. Lighting up a candle, they slowly crept into the area, with a small carving knife, just in case. You wouldn’t believe them if they told you what they have witnessed. The now-famous Eldain, commander of Aedirn’s Scoia’tael group, was climbing up the cupboards like those typical cats in “midnight snack” memes. The candle's light illuminated his eyes, making them reflect the light the same way cat eyes do. He was trying to be sneaky about it, gods damn it! But that didn’t work at all, and if anyone were aware of this, he would die of embarrassment. He has a reputation to uphold!

Ciaran

This story is one of many that have been dubbed “drunk adventures of Ciaran.” He isn’t quite sure how the story truly goes (terrible memory after drinking) but according to Iorveth and other squirrels, it started out during a night out drinking. In one moment, when they were already deep into the drinking, someone dared him to sneak into Flotsam and bring something back to the camp. And of course, him being as reckless after drinking, accepted without beating an eye. So, he stumbled into the town, somehow ended in Cedric’s home unseen. Instead of taking some inanimate objects from Cedric, he decided to up the game even more. He ended up dognapping Cedric’s companion, Ronan, who according to Drunk Ciaran has become ‘he’s newest best friend and apprentice!’ The both of them managed to leave the town, walk through the forest at night and enter the Scoia’taels camp safely. You have to imagine the shocked face, when Ciaran woke to someone crushing his ribs into the bed and that someone being a gigantic dog almost the same size as him. The absolute disbelieve on everyone’s faces when Cedric came barging in, demanding the release of his lost companion was beyond words. Since then, Ciaran’s been a 'regular as can be' visitor in Cedric’s home, you can’t honestly blame him for getting attached to Ronan so quickly. Even after quite some time, Ciaran’s unable to hide his slightly tinted cheeks whenever someone mentions the ‘dognapping.’

Headcanon Meme Here

#eldain #ciaran aep easnillen #caron oc #iorveth #cedric witcher #ronan the wolfhound #scoia'tael #aen seidhe #the witcher #the witcher series #the witcher games #the witcher headcanon #the witcher oc #caligo's post #caligo's headcanons #caligo's oc #caligo answers q. #I can’t even describe how thankful I am for at u keep sending me asks! #it keeps me so motivated to get back into more serious writing!! <3 #so this is a message to anyone: you can spam me however much you want #it only makes me more productive rather than irritated etc! <3

[kurowrites]

“You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend’s house and I should call the cops but my cat kinda likes you so we’re good” Wangxian with rabbits? : ) If you like?

Wei Ying released the latch carefully and slid the window back. It had taken him a while to figure out how to do it, but by now, he was a pro at getting inside any window even while drunk. He felt a little bad having to sneak around like this, but he didn’t want to wake Jiang Yanli in the middle of the night. At the same time, he didn’t want her to have to give him another scolding for camping out on a park bench somewhere because he missed the last bus home. So sneaking in and borrowing Jin Zixuan’s overpriced sofa for the night it was. It wasn’t like he cared about Jin Zixuan’s inevitable whining, after all.

He fumbled around in the dark for a moment, trying to orient himself. But strangely enough, he didn’t encounter furniture where he expected it to be. Was he that drunk, or had they recently redecorated the living room without telling him? Was this some kind of mischievous plan concocted by Jin Zixuan? The ridiculously giant flatscreen TV was gone, in any case. He wouldn’t even be able to binge on some mindless late-night TV show before he inevitably conked out. Instead, there was… a cage?

Curious, he got closer to the cage to inspect this new addition to the living room. It was, in fact, a large animal cage! And as he watched, there was a movement in the little hutch at the end of the cage. A moment later, a rabbit poked its little nose out, wiggling it curiously.

“Heyyyyyy, babyyy,” Wei Ying cooed. “What a cutie you are! I never knew Dajie liked rabbits.”

The rabbit, maybe hoping for a snack, cautiously hopped out of the hutch. In the darkness, he looked kind of greyish, but in daylight, he must be a pretty white.

“Aw, you are so pretty! Come here, little beauty! Is it fine if I pet you?”

With clumsy fingers, he worked to undo the latch of the cage door. Disturbed by the noise, a second rabbit hopped out of the hutch. This one was black.

“Aw, another one! Come to papa,” Wei Ying coaxed, stretching his hand through the cage door.

The white rabbit came to him easily. Wei Ying lifted him out of the cage and carefully set it onto his lap. Then he picked up the black one, lifting it to his face.

“Such good children,” he cooed. “So well-behaved. You deserve some cuddles.”

He pressed a quick kiss onto the little black rabbit’s forehead.

Wei Ying was starting to feel really tired, and sitting upright seemed like too much of a chore after sneaking through the window. So he lay down onto the carpet on the floor, and then placed the two rabbits onto his chest, where they would be comfortable and where he could pet them.

They really were very good children, not scrabbling around but sitting on Wei Ying’s chest peacefully, content with Wei Ying softly ruffling their incredibly soft fur.

“I wonder if the peacock did something dumb and bought you as an apology,” Wei Ying mused. “It would be so much better if Dajie just kicked him out. She can keep you two, though. I think I like you. You are very soft. I like soft things.”

One of the rabbits hopped forward and managed to somehow cram itself under Wei Ying’s chin, as if snuggling up to him. The rabbit was so soft, and it was such a sweet gesture that Wei Ying nearly cried.

“I think I need some rabbits, too,” he said, blinking tears out of his eyes. “And if you’re behaving badly, I can always make rabbit stew.”

The next moment, the light in the living room suddenly turned on, and Wei Ying was momentarily blinded by the sudden glare of the light.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“What the hell!” Wei Ying groaned, trying to shield himself from the stabbing pain of the bright light. “That hurts!”

The next thing he knew, the two rabbits were removed from his chest.

“Noo!” Wei Ying whined. “We just became friends! The cruelty!”

But no mercy awaited him. Instead, once his vision cleared, he found a perfect stranger staring down at him, the two rabbits safely cradled in his arms.

“What do you think you are doing?” the stranger asked again.

“What the fuck are you doing in Dajie’s house?” Wei Ying shot back, a little hysterical. He’d never seen this man before in his life. What was he doing in his precious sister’s house?

“This is my house!” the stranger exclaimed.

That gave Wei Ying pause. With blurry eyes, he looked around. The general architecture of the house seemed to be quite similar to the one Jiang Yanli shared with the peacock, but the furniture most definitely wasn’t. The furniture here was all elegant dark wood with white and blue accents, absolutely nothing that Jin Zixuan would ever want in his gaudy house.

This was also the point where Wei Ying remembered that his sister lived on a street with several houses that were built around the same time and looked remarkably similar to each other, and uh. His orientation might not work best when he was inebriated?

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groaned. “This is not Dajie’s house. Shit, she’s going to kill me. I’m just going to show myself out. And maybe drown myself in the next body of water. I promise I wasn’t trying to rob you or anything.”

He struggled to his feet, trying to find his footing. Somehow, the movement made him feel a little dizzy, and before he knew it, he’d grasped the stranger’s arm to steady himself.

That brought him eye to eye with the rabbits again.

“Awww babies, I’m so sooorry,” he cooed to them. “We only just met and it’s already goodbye. Be good children for your papa, okay?”

He leaned forward and gave both of them a little smooch.

As he straightened up, he came face to face with the stranger. And what a handsome stranger it was! Such pretty, dark eyes, and such elegant eyebrows! And that mouth! So kissable! Did he know that his mouth was very kissable?

“Do you know you’re really, really handsome?” Wei Ying asked the stranger. “Like, so handsome. Kissable handsome. Oh! Do you also want a kiss? I would totally kiss you. Ah, but I’m a man. Maybe you don’t like getting kisses from men. What a waste though. I would totally kiss you. And do wicked, wicked things with you. Well, not that I’ve ever done wicked things with anyone. I would make an exception for you, though! Too handsome not to be kissed.”

The handsome stranger was not at all impressed, apparently. Without comment, he untangled himself from Wei Ying and went over to the rabbit cage, placing the rabbits back inside the cage. He didn’t close the latch before giving both of them a quick petting.

It was very sweet, Wei Ying thought. He also wanted someone to put him to bet with a little bit of gentle petting.

“I’m, uh,” he stuttered, “just going to show myself out, I guess.”

But before he could return to the window he had snuck in from, the stranger had taken a hold of him and was pushing him down the hallway.

“Oh,” Wei Ying said as the stranger opened a door that clearly led to a bedroom. “Is this some kind of kinky porn situation? ‘Please, don’t call the cops, I’ll do whatever you want!’ Am I doing it right?”

The stranger did not comment, but placed him on the bed and disappeared for a moment. When he returned, he handed Wei Ying a pair of pyjamas.

“Good night,” the handsome stranger said. “Do not disturb the rabbits again.”

And then he was left alone.

Wei Ying considered a window escape for a short moment, but he was already sitting on a very comfy bed, he was tired, and it was cold outside. Inertia was already claiming him. With a shrug of his shoulders, he wriggled out of his own clothing and clumsily slipped into the (very comfortable) pyjamas. By the time his head hit the pillow, his eyes were already closed.

---

Wei Ying woke up in an unfamiliar room.

He panicked for a moment. Fuck, where was he?

But then his mind was generous enough to remind him of his little criminal break-in last night, and he shot out of bed in a panic, scrambling to slip into his clothes. He had broken into a stranger’s house! And played with said stranger’s rabbits in a dark living room!

Okay, the rabbits had been very cute.

But still!

He left the bedroom, hurried down the hallway and burst into the living room without ceremony.

There was the same stranger from last night, Wei Ying saw with relief, his precious little rabbits settled in his lap as he was feeding them some leafy greens.

“I am so sorry!” Wei Ying exclaimed. “I totally broke into your house last night. And you even let me sleep here! I guess I really have to thank you for not calling the cops on me.”

“Hn,” the strangers replied, and gave another green leaf to the black rabbit.

“I’m Wei Ying, by the way,” Wei Ying said awkwardly. “In case you want a name. For the police. Or, uh.”

The stranger finally deigned to look up from the rabbits in his lap, and look at Wei Ying properly.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, and then he turned back to his rabbits.

A pretty name for a handsome man. It seemed unfair somehow.

Wei Ying stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. But the rabbits were right there, adorably munching on their leaves. Wei Ying inched a little closer, hoping against hope that he would manage to get another cuddle in before he was kicked out of the house.

Lan Zhan looked up when he saw Wei Ying approach, but turned his attention back to the rabbits without comment, so Wei Ying chose to interpret this as permission.

Once he had come close enough, Lan Zhan lifted the black rabbit and held it out for Wei Ying to hold.

“This is Ying,” Lan Zhan explained. Then he pointed at the white rabbit still in his lap. “This is Guang.”

Wei Ying laughed. “Guangying. I see. You are terrible at naming things.”

Lan Zhan sent him a flat look that clearly spelled people who drunkenly break into other people’s homes have no room to complain.

“Sorry,” Wei Ying laughed. He cradled Ying to his chest and cooed at him. “A-Ying is a good child, despite the terrible name. Ah, you are so cute, I want to eat you.”

Lan Zhan sent him a stern glare that made Wei Ying laugh again.

“No eating the rabbits, I see,” he hummed as he bumped noses with Ying. “Just a lot of kisses and love.”

“You promised me one too.”

“What?”

Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan in confusion, but Lan Zhan was still feeding Guang, not looking at Wei Ying.

“You said I’m too handsome not to be kissed.”

Wei Ying blushed deeply and hid behind little Ying. “Oh my god, don’t listen to my drunk babbling! I can’t believe that after I broke into your house, I also harassed you.”

“So, not handsome enough to be kissed?”

“What?”

He peeked out behind Ying and found Lan Zhan gazing at him with a peculiar look in his eyes. When Lan Zhan was sure he had Wei Ying’s attention, he lifted his finger to his lips and tapped them twice.

Wei Ying burned. There was no way he could possibly–

He strode forwards to deposit little Ying safely back into Lan Zhan’s lap. But before Wei Ying could draw back and flee to safety himself, Lan Zhan had taken hold of his arm and drawn him in.

Their lips brushed gently, and when Lan Zhan released him, there was a smile on his face.

“Payment,” he said with evident satisfaction. “Go to your sister. She must be worried.”

And Wei Ying, still blushing furiously, could do nothing but flee. This time, out of the front door and not the window.

What a payment, he thought as he hurried along the path in front of the house. Stealing someone’s first kiss like that. How could he take the words of a drunken man seriously!

He turned a corner and watched the house disappear. Never again was he getting lost in this street!

…but maybe he might want to break in again. Just for the rabbits. To make sure Lan Zhan was treating them right.

---

* Ying as in 影 yǐng, not 婴 yīng.

* Guang as in 光, the same character as Hanguang-jun. :3

* So it’s…. light and shadow, basically. Hahaha.

#kuro answers #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #prompts #enter21

[tenspontaneite]

Wish Fulfilment (Chapter 1/?)

Rayla woke up in a tiny body in a tiny bed, blinked, looked at her tiny hands, and said “Right.”

(Time travel; indulgent and light-hearted. Ao3 link)

---

  Rayla woke up in a tiny body in a tiny bed, blinked, looked at her tiny hands, and said “Right.”

She spent the next few days taking stock of herself, the time-frame, her living situation, and her own abilities. She was a pipsqueak, lacking the advantages of a decade of training and conditioning, but she’d been a scrappy thing even at this age – climbing trees, making a nuisance of herself, getting hardier and more agile than most bairns did, and so on. She scrambled experimentally about some trees for a while, and assessed her stealth by mud-bombing the townspeople she disliked, and in the end decided that it would do just fine.

Her parents had joined the Dragonguard recently, and judging by her age, Callum must have lost his mother only a month or two ago. She regretted that she couldn’t have stopped that, but, well. Nothing to be done.

She spent a further week stealing supplies, testing herself, and getting ready. The Moon answered her when she called on it, even so close to its darkest phase. Magic answered too, when she begrudgingly tested the spells Callum had bullied her into learning. It would be enough.

She left a note for Ethari and Runaan that read ‘I know you’ll never listen if I tell you not to look for me, so just try not to waste too much time, alright? I’m fine.’ She took a moment to feel disconcerted at her history of leaving notes and disappearing, then added ‘Sorry. Try not to worry. I’ll see if I can send letters or something.’ With that in mind she took a brief detour into Ethari’s workshop and stole a shadowhawk. With that tucked into her pack, she did some last-minute checks of her supplies and headed out.

First on her agenda was heading North-East and breaking up her trail. Runaan would absolutely try to follow her, so she made it as hard for him as she possibly could, laying false trails, disturbing the true ones, and dunking herself in every body of water she could find to break up the chance of the family Moonstrider being able to track her. He’d probably still find his way through the first leg of her journey, but that was okay. She could live with that.

Rayla arrived at the mountainous plains on the edge of Lux Aurea a week later, finding with satisfaction what she’d expected to: vast tracts of farmland, developed for the feeding of the equally vast population of the golden city. It took a further day to find the farm itself, whereupon she broke in, ambushed the residents, and made some very uncompromising demands.

The Sunfire farmers looked so bewildered at having been hogtied and extorted by a baby-faced Moonshadow child that they offered absolutely no resistance except plaintive questions like ‘where are your parents’, or ‘are you okay’, or ‘do you need any help’. In the end Rayla departed with her packs three bags of seeds heavier, and also stole a Sunfin on her way out. She flew on the placid creature for three days due West before running afoul of the Sunfire army.

Rayla spent eight disgruntled hours in the custody of those soldiers, refusing to talk, until they finally left a twin-tailed inferno-tooth tiger to guard her while they went off to send letters to their superiors, trusting the guard-cat’s intelligence and ferocity to be equal to the task of keeping watch on a wee Moonshadow bairn. This turned out to be a mistake.

Within an hour, the animal was eyeing her with interest. Within two, it had drifted close to sniff at her. “What’re you looking at?” She demanded, in her tiny irritable child-voice, and that was when the thing instantly and very plainly took a liking to her. She spent ten minutes grumbling loudly about being sat on by a giant cat, then finally conceded to pragmatism and started using its tail-flames to burn through her ties. They’d only used rope, not wanting to restrain a child too sternly. It was very helpful stupidity on their part.

Rayla escaped on the cat and was only mildly singed by the ordeal. Later, after a day of very enthusiastic pursuit-evasion, she settled down with said cat and eyed it with resignation. “You’re not leaving, are you.” She said. It licked her with a sandpapery tongue almost as big as her entire face, and that was answer enough. She sighed. “Well, it’ll make the journey a lot faster, I suppose.” She decided. “But you’re going to be a pain to hide.”

Unconcerned, it rubbed its face against her insistently enough to push her over. But she’d grown up with a shadowpaw, so she was used to that.

Rayla, who was not good at naming things, named it Cat.

 ---

 Brightly-coloured cats with two flaming tails were not stealthy. They just weren’t. Cheerfully unaware of how inconvenient this was, Cat spent the next two weeks ruining her efforts at stealth by roaring at inconvenient times, following her when she’d told it to stay put, and in general by being constantly on fire. As such she arrived in the Pentarchy and crossed the Weeping Bay with considerably more flair than she’d have preferred, but at least the tails eliminated the need for campfires. It had obviously been used to cook food before, and tolerated the experience very agreeably, if it had also been fed.

On the third week she finally figured out that the thing had been trained with Luçais commands, and muddled her way through her extremely bare vocabulary in the language to finally get Cat to follow basic directions. With the ability to tell it to stay put somewhere while she went off to do something else, things went much better. She disappeared into the mountain range on Cat’s wings, choosing the least-populated route she could manage, and in the end managed to approach Katolis castle with no one the wiser that she was there.

Finding somewhere to leave Cat proved challenging, though. She briefly considered the alcove in the cliff under the castle, but dismissed it on grounds that someone would notice the roaring eventually. Cat was a noisy bastard. Eventually she resigned herself to the fact that she’d just need to relocate it periodically, and left it in a relatively well-concealed ditch with a freshly-killed deer corpse to occupy it.

Rayla waited till nightfall for the first excursion, calling on the Moon to turn her skin to shadows, and stalked down the castle halls, learning it as it was in this time. Learning the guard stations, the patrol patterns, its rhythms and sounds. She was half-way to checking whether Callum still had the right room at this age when she stopped in the middle of the hallway, goosebumps raising up in lines over her arms, feeling a vast and familiar presence passing over her mind. She slumped with relief.

“Ezran.” She murmured, more thankful than words could say. “So you made it back too.”

Being a baby had apparently not agreed with him, because he seemed to lack the control and finesse he’d developed with age. Instead his ability brushed at her in vague sweeps of feeling and intent, saying relief and frustration and this way. She followed his lead to the nursery where he was kept, his guards pressed into sleep by his far-reaching touch.

She looked down at him in his cot, so tiny she wasn’t even sure if he could crawl, and raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, you’re even tinier than I expected.”

“Ee,” he expressed sourly, blinking up at her with eyes that looked too big for his face. Babies were so weird. His hands reached up and made grabby motions at her, so obediently she leaned in and let him slap one baby hand onto her cheek. With the skin contact, it got a lot clearer.

Been here months, he seemed to complain, along with a rush of gratitude/relief/fondness at seeing her. Couldn’t do anything/missed you/been awful.

“How many months?” She asked with interest, and after a little back-and-forth managed to surmise that he’d awakened in his body very shortly after the titan-slaying party had departed for Xadia. She winced, entirely aware of how terrible that must have been for him. “I’m sorry, Ez.”

His little baby face screwed up, as if he was going to start crying. He almost did, but then seemed to summon the will to suppress the infant-body’s powerful instincts before it actually got going. Really sucked, he managed to express, with a little echo of his helplessness and anger. Then, subverbal: an impression of the heavy miasma of grief that had hung over the castle. Harrow crying, Callum crying.

She inhaled sharply. “Callum-“ she couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t make it back? She thought, numbly, and that was as good as saying it, with Ezran touching her.

He blinked wide ice-blue eyes at her. Hasn't yet/getting worried, he said, tangled up in the impression he had that she’d arrived later than him, hadn’t she, so maybe, maybe Callum would join them eventually too. He hoped. But time was passing and he was afraid.

She closed her eyes. Exhaled. “Did Zym make it?” Yes, he had. “Can you talk to him the same? Reach past him?” Talking: yes, but it was hard. Reaching: no. “Okay. We can work with that.” She hesitated, steeling herself, not thinking about Callum. “I’ve got a hotcat a little bit past the castle. Think you can convince it not to make noise?” She asked, half-heartedly.

Ezran blinked again. Then he looked delighted, a wide baby grin spreading across his face. He nearly bowled her over with the wave of enthusiasm and approval for her having made a proper animal friend, and expressed his intention to begin communing with said animal at once.

Rayla nodded a little, still tightly controlling her reaction to the news about Callum, and after a moment reached into the cot to lift Ezran up under his wee chubby baby arms. He made a surprised gurgle at her, then burped contentedly when she hugged him, patting her clumsily on the shoulder. He was so bloody little. It was making her annoyingly emotional. Damn it, Callum, she thought to herself, get back here already so you can look at how tiny your brother is with me.

Ez sighed, patting her with mental impressions of hope and affection and subdued sadness. Then he told her, though not in as many words, that Cat was a terrible name and someone really needed to make fun of her for it.

Rayla huffed and set him back down again. “Shush, you.” She said gruffly, and hesitated. “I’ll…come back to see you tomorrow, alright? Maybe in the day this time.” She had to get an idea of the daytime watch rotations too, after all. She still wasn’t sure what the plan was, but taking someone hostage might well end up being part of it. That would be a lot easier, with Ez on board. A lot of things would be easier.

A little spitefully, to let off steam, she made one final stop before leaving the castle that night: she broke into Viren’s rooms and stole one each of three pairs of his boots. She took these back to Cat and watched it maul the boots in question with a great deal of satisfaction.

Cat did quiet down after whatever Ezran communicated to it, but unfortunately also decided that if it wasn’t going to announce its presence by roaring, it had to do it some other way. This was how Cat ended up spraying the brambles at the edge of the ditch in urine, and incidentally also how Rayla discovered that it was a male. Thereafter the area stank too much for her to linger in, so she had to go off to sleep in a nearby tree, beyond the warmth of Cat’s burning tails. Rayla woke the next morning with a pronounced crick in her neck, grumbled a little, then went back to work.  

  ---

 Notes:

So this story exists because I made myself Really Sad about five year old Callum when writing the latest chapter (21) of piaj, and then made myself Even Sadder by promptly writing a future scene where Callum talked about said period of his life to Rayla, and then out of abject desperation I fired up a fresh document and started writing this to comfort myself.

Setting background: canon, but with worldbuilding borrowed from piaj. Future Rayla was somewhere in the region of 18+ years old, unspecified. Circumstances of the future and method of time travel left extremely deliberately vague. I have every intention of playing as fast and loose with this story as I can possibly manage; I already have one exhaustive and meticulous tdp work and I’m not interested in reallocating my brainpower from that to this.

Warning: what plans I have for this story heavily feature piaj worldbuilding that I consider pretty critical to the setting, and also unlikely to come out any time soon. Therefore, it’s pretty guaranteed that I’ll get two or three chapters in to publishing this and then have to keep the rest to myself for the next four years while piaj progresses.

 Other details:

Sunfin: a creature I came up with for piaj worldbuilding. It cannot breathe, and uses Sun magic in place of respiratory processes. If kept indoors it will die very quickly. It’s unintelligent and usually lives at high altitudes and will not generally touch the ground in its lifetime, but can be trained for use in farming, where it’s very useful in dispersing large amounts of Stuff (i.e. water, seeds, fertiliser) over a field from the sky. They’re basically crop dusters. Concept and name inspired by the Skyfin from endless legend. Looks somewhat more like a cross between an air shark and manta ray though.

Ezran: future Ezran in this setting was very, very powerful. Less so now that he’s a one year old baby. Rip.

Rayla: future Rayla learned how to use Moonshadow form at most times of the month, and in addition was eventually nagged by Callum into learning some spells. She uses them as part of her stealth repertoire but doesn’t consider herself a mage.

Callum: is baby.

Cat: a twin tailed inferno tooth tiger, highly trained, and in use by the Lux Aurea military as a war mount prior to his desertion in this story. They had a different name for him, but he rather prefers ‘Cat’.

Luçais: piaj worldbuilding; this is the in universe name for the French language as Draconic is the in universe name for Latin. Spoken by many Sunfire elves.

#tdp #tdp fic #rayllum #time travel #tdp rayla #tdp callum #tdp ezran #and so on #read back on my blog to trace the aetiology of this fic

[fxcf]

Aizawa Shota was kind of a massive dick.

So, another long post, this one shit talking one of my favorite characters in MHA. The one came about when I was reading a fic shortly after I woke up, and sleepy dipshit me decided to make a multi-paragraph comment talking about how pre-Kamino Aizawa was a shit teacher.

(sorry, orkestrations)

Don’t worry, this hurts me too.

In cannon, Aizawa is both kind of a dick, and also kind of a bad teacher.

For one, the way he treats the students. Sure, he puts his life on the line for them in the USJ, but how much of that is genuine care and how much of that is because he's a hero? On the first day, he threatens them with expulsion if they fail a useless test. Like, yeah, seeing their limits and all that jazz, but how the fuck does throwing a ball count to skills a hero needs? Potential force?

For two, he calls Midoriya useless on the first day. Sure, it's in tandem with Mido breaking his bones, but that leads to him breaking even more bones! Permanently scaring and disfiguring his hands! Why did he never even try to coach Mido? Why did no red flags go up at the kid with the bullshit OP quirk being fidgety and anxious at the slightest sound, overwhelmingly bad at socializing, and generally being bad at interacting with adults, having no control over his quirk? I don't know about you, but that seems like a big red flag to me.

One of the popular theories I've read about Aizawa's disliking towards Midoriya is because he thought he was an egotistical kid who never trained his quirk out of laziness. If that is true, than that makes Aizawa an even worse teacher. You have to bring this issue up with the person, not just let it go and hope the kid gets better!

For three, he's a bit hypocritical. He shit talks the entrance exams, then put's the students trough a test that does the exact same thing but without fighting, and expels whoever is last, or who doesn't have enough *potential*. Sure, he gets them back in class a week later, but from what little I know about Japan's school system, expulsion is a really bad for of stress. How many students have just up and quit everything because of Aizawa? How many went to vigilantism or villainy and died? How many just dropped dead? How many were pushed away by family and friends because they were expelled on the first day? How many were taken by villains because they heard of the expelled UA hero course student?

That's not how you treat fifteen year olds. No matter the profession.

At this point, All Might is a better teacher. Sure, he has no idea what he's doing. Sure, his successor breaks his bones all the time. But can you blame the man? Because of him being the number one hero, he can barely make meaningful relationships with people because of villains trying to target them. At least he's trying to help his students, which is more than I can say about early cannon Aizawa. All Might gives his students advice (even though Most of it was with a little help with YaoMomo), puts them in a real world situation that can actually judge their skills better than running fucking laps, and is actually nice to the kids.

TL;DR, Aizawa is actually a pretty bad teacher in cannon, and is probably to blame for Midoriya's arms being fucked up by not trying to help a student in need, and All Might is a better teacher.

Also, while I’m at it, what the FUCK Recovery Girl?

“Won’t heal anymore injuries from One For All.”

That’s your incentive to make Midoriya learn better? This is One For Fucking All we’re talking about! The smallest mistake can obliterate the user’s body! Midoriya fucking sneezes while practicing with it, his entire face becomes damn mist! And who knows if Midoriya, in his years of abuse from peers and adults, takes that as “I won’t heal you anymore”.

God damnit UA this is not how you teach.

EDIT: Guess who just remembered that Aizawa straight up tells Mido to learn control or he’ll be useless, then turns around and does jack shit about Kaminari.

EDIT 2: Guess who just realized that EDIT 1 is a moot point.

Thanks, Epsi’s Hoard. Ya’ll good Comrades.

Damnit Aizawa, double standard having cat man who doesn’t become real Dadzawa until post sports festival.

#mha #ranting #About to shit talk my favorite character brb #BNHA #my hero academia #boku nohero academia

[slashingdisneypasta]

Can you do a headcanon where your disney villain spouse finds out that you are a werewolf and how would react towards that if its good or bad? You can use Clayton, Cruella de vil, Gaston, and Captain hook. I hope you have a great day.

These just get longer and longer until you get Gaston, which is like a whole story, sorry. Haha. Hope you have a good day, too ^^

Captain Hook:

·         He isn’t too shocked, I mean, he lives on an island where children fly and fairies and mermaids exist, so werewolves aren’t that farfetched. Although, this does concern him as yet another thing to worry about getting eaten by on this damn island.

·         He does wonder why you kept it from him though. You’re married- what happened to trust? You’re supposed to be a team, how is he supposed to help you if he doesn’t know what’s going on?

·         All these villains have the same trust issues. Wrong them once and, usually, unless you’re the hero, you’ll live to regret it. But this situation, since you’re you and they love you, they have a bit of a panic and just feel hurt. They need to talk it through and open up completely to fix it (Which we know they’re terrible at, since if they were good at managing their inner issues, they wouldn’t be villains). But Hook doesn’t want to talk about it, so you’ll have to coax it out of him.

Clayton:

·         He doesn’t believe you.

·         A werewolf? Really? Do you have a violent feud with a coven of Vampires, too? Have you met a fairy? Is your mother the Lockness monster also???

·         Ha ha ha, so funny.

·         Clayton is a man of logic and science, and he prides himself on that, and your werewolf story does not fit in, so he just laughs it off. You show him your ripped clothes, tufts of fur- even a tooth, once, when you woke up human again one morning and realised you had been in some kind of fight with a bear, and it had been ripped out. He just said that you bought it from a peculiarity store, you ripped your own clothes to keep up the prank, and the fur is from your friend who has a malting cat.

·         He’ll have to see it to believe it.

·         I recommend trying to get pictures of yourself in that form.

Cruella DeVille:

·         Oooooh, what does your fur look like darling?

·         No, no. She is super intrigued and interested in what your fur looks like and feels like (Which is probably why you kept it from her- it would be bad if she tries to come and touch you when you’re in full wolf form), of course, but she isn’t going to try and skin you XD Haha. No, just baby animals.

·         She gets a bit distant for a bit, because why did you keep that a secret from her? Cruella is a businesswoman. She’s used to distrust, but she had no inkling that you were keeping something from her? Especially for this long.

·         Communication is key!

·         You’ll have to buck up and have a proper conversation with her, so ya’ll can get everything out into the air. What your lycanthropy entails, the story behind it, why you kept it a secret until now, why she’s unhappy about it, what you can do to make it up to her, what she can do to make your full moons easier (Or just how she can make the fact that she knows easier for you). Generally, just how this whole thing will work. She wants to be crystal clear, and it’ll help you too.  

Gaston (You can imagine either Gaston’s, but I just like this gif) :

·         Well… uh… I mean…

·         Okay, Gaston is obviously the type to get the pitch forks and torches ready when he gets a whiff, of any kind of beast (Or chuck a girl who did maths onto a stake and burn her) … but he loves you!

·         He made an exception and let Belle continue to read (I mean, he didn’t destroy her book or anything- if he was really bent on keeping her from thinking, she would and could have torn that book in half) and he wasn’t in love with her! He was just hot for her- but you. You’re so much more.

·         Then again, this werewolf thing is also so much more. I understand why you refrained from telling him.

·         He’ll try and find a way to ‘cure’ you (I use quotation marks because I don’t know whether you want or need that. Maybe you do. If so, he’ll try really hard) and he just won’t hear you if you try to tell him to stop it. His ears just close up, man, when he’s hearing things he doesn’t want to be hearing.

·         *Whisper* ‘You’re beautiful Gaston’ ‘Oh yes, I know!’

·         *Mouthing* ‘You’re wonderful, Gaston’ ‘Of course I am’

·         *Screaming* ‘The Beast is actually a good man, Gaston!’ ‘Sorry what?’

·         One day, something goes wrong. Lefou finds out where you’ll be on the Full Moon, and Gaston meets you there to see for himself (And I don’t know, kill the beast out of you? Sounds like medieval logic). You’re out of control, of course, and you try to hurt him…

·         But just as you’re rearing back, teeth sharp and jaw dropped open wide, ready to rip his throat out…

·         You recognise him. You whine, and patter off of him and few feet away. You don’t know why, of course, you don’t recognise him as your husband, just… a packmate. Part of your pack.

·         He’s an integral part of your pack and you will not hurt him.

·         It surprises him, to feel the gentle patter of your paws off of him and sit up to see your regretful face, a gentle whining coming from you.

·         Now every full moon, Gaston comes with you to change and plays with you ^^ You changed him.