#Basic but you'd be surprised how often I see this one done wrong

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

here we are, no one else

Summary: Wanda and R finally get a moment alone

Word Count: 1768 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Part 6 of 'Half of My Hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

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“No Vision tonight?”

Your voice breaks Wanda out of her mindless stare at the floor. She looks up, smiling as she meets your eyes, while slightly shaking her head.

“No. He’s not even in the country, Tony needed him for some intelligence mission.”

“Shame,” you mumble. The woman across from you smirks and raises an eyebrow in amusement at your sarcastic tone, and it’s only then that you catch what you said. Even though you’ve clearly been caught, you clear your throat and quickly try to change the subject to distract her. “You know… it’s been years, but I still feel weird calling him ‘Tony’.”

“Do you still remember all the names we used to call him?” Wanda asks and, though it's light-hearted, you pick up on the slight edge to her tone. 

You sheepishly nod, floods of former nicknames for your current boss resurfacing in your mind. Across from you, Wanda’s tight posture loosens slightly, and you realise the implicit meaning behind her question – testing where you stood with Stark, and whether you'd judge the decisions she had made in your absence.

“I can’t really mention those to Vision,” she adds shyly. Your gaze snaps back up to hers with wide eyes and an open-mouthed expression at the thought, just to see her grinning widely.

“Definitely not,” you laugh, surprised by how at ease you feel again tonight, “those names should… well… they should not leave Sokovia.”

“Probably where Stark would ship me back to if he found out.”

“You and me both,” you hum, “though it would be nice to go back home.”

“Not much left of it though.” Wanda frowns and drops her eyes to the ground, the mood sobering quickly.

Seeing her this dejected is enough to make you frown too, so you bump her shoulder with your own and shoot her a toothy grin once she meets your eyes, “I’d have you though, wouldn’t I? The two of us back in former Sokovian land? That’s home enough for me anyday.” She smiles at that, and you feel a warm sense of satisfaction in your chest with the knowledge that you caused that.

“What about right here? It’s got us back together again, maybe we could call this New Sokovia.”

“Right here? This little patch of corridor?”

Wanda nods, “Yes, exactly! We meet here often enough, it’s basically our spot, and if home is where the two of us are…”

“I’ll bring a sign next time. ‘Welcome to New Sokovia. Population: 2 (only at 2am)’, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Wanda laughs again with a wide and carefree smile on her face; a small noise which somehow has the power to warm you so completely from the inside out, as well as draw happiness to your own lips. You've missed this. You've missed her.

But then, quickly, your expression drops – something you only notice you've done when you see it mirrored by Wanda, whose face now shifts to concern over your disheartened look. Before she can ask what's wrong, you blurt out what it is that you've just remembered. 

“I won't be here tomorrow.”

Typically, agents only work the night shift a few days a week, at the most. You had volunteered yourself to take the hours permanently – you enjoy the late nights, and it spared a few of your coworkers who prefer to have proper sleep schedules – but even with that, you'd worked every night for over two weeks. A break was long overdue.

Wanda still hasn't answered, and you begin to thrum your fingers against your leg. The ease of your previous conversation is now long gone, replaced by pounding nerves for her reaction. It was only one night, that shouldn't be a big deal, but it hasn't happened yet since your reunion with Wanda, due to the unusual scheduling.

“What?”

Her question gives little away.

“I, uh… I won't be here tomorrow,” you repeat redundantly – clearly she heard you. “I have the day off so… well, you know, if you're waiting here then it'll probably be someone else who comes past at 2am. Not that it will be any problem! Of course you're allowed to be here so they won't have an issue, but… just…”

You trail off, after finally noticing that Wanda hasn't said a word – nor even been able to say a word – amid your rambling. Once you stop talking, the lingering silence is enough to make you squirm, bouncing on the balls of your feet and swinging your arms as you refuse to make eye contact.

“Oh,” is all Wanda finally says.

You force your eyes upwards, daring to read Wanda’s face even while you fear the expression you might see; but hers only matches yours, eyes down towards her hands and lower lip ever so slightly caught between her teeth. She's disappointed, but not with you. There’s a question that’s been dying on your lips nearly every night for two weeks, and a wave of realisation washes over you that this is your opportunity to ask it, the best opportunity you’ll ever have.

“Would you meet during day? With me. During the day. Meet with me during the day. Would you want to meet up during the day instead?” You had to blurt the words out quickly before self-doubts could silence you, but as your cheeks burn, hindsight tells you that waiting a little longer to talk wouldn’t have hurt. At least just long enough to form the sentence. Regardless, your embarrassment from the situation now only served to aid the self-doubt which had finally caught up from your actions, and you quickly stutter over your next words while seeking to give Wanda a get-out clause, if she wanted to take it. “Obviously you don't have to, especially if you've got training or-”

“I'd love to.” Wanda cuts you off with a teasing smirk, well aware of how much you would have continued to talk had she not interrupted. “I finish training at 1.”

“I’ll meet you at 2?” you offer, “2pm. I’ll bring lunch, and you can take some time to wind down and get out of that uncomfortable looking outfit you have to wear.”

“My costume?” Wanda gasps in mock offence, while you struggle to contain your laughter – your teasing comment getting exactly the reaction you knew it would. “It looks very cool! Admit it looks cool!”

You hum, resting a hand on your chin in thought and drawing out the wait for as long as you can. “I did hear the full leather look is the next big trend,” you shrug with a devilish smile that Wanda would have seen had she not started celebrating the admission early. So you continue, “...if you’re in The Matrix.”

Her victory is swiftly ended; her arms drop to her sides and a pout overtakes the prior smugness while a deadpan gaze bores into you. 

There’s a familiarity to her expression that sends you hurtling into your memories, stabbing at your heart when you remember the giggles of you and your accomplice, celebrating to yourselves everytime you managed to lure a young Wanda into your verbal (or even sometimes physical) traps. Over a decade later, you catch yourself before you can turn to share your joy with Pietro. He’s just another face you won’t ever see again. 

Wanda doesn’t see the way your smile falls, something you're glad for. So when she turns to you with a renewed spark in her eye, even when you know that means she has a retaliation incoming, you coerce the prior amusement back into your expression.

“You’re just jealous,” she says with a light shove to your shoulder, and sticking out her tongue too for good measure, “because you used to wear your homemade costume everywhere, but I’m the one with the real one! Didn’t you wear that thing to bed?”

You gasp now, surprised that she not only remembered it, but also decided to use it against you.

“You're going to bring my costume into this?”

“Mmmmhm.”

“Alright, бубамара (ladybug)…” you trail off, grinning wildly as her face flushes redder than the aforementioned costume. “I should have known that’s where the red theme comes from.”

Scare resources forced you down creative routes to stay entertained in your childhoods – one such time involved cobbling together various clothing scraps and other well-worn items into costumes to imagine yourselves in lives that weren’t your own. You pictured yourself as a hero, strong enough to stop the onslaught of missiles raining down in Sokovia. Wanda, meanwhile, became a ladybug.

“It’s the colour of my powers,” Wanda whines, bashfully defending herself. But you still have thirteen years worth of teasing to unleash.

“Which is coincidentally the same colour? Or were you subconsciously channelling the bug all along?”

“...I don't even know why I missed you.”

Your face softens a little, taking in her words as the confession they are, that she’d missed you. Despite the demons in your brain, you find that you aren’t surprised by it – she’s already shown you that she’s missed you beyond a doubt, and those feelings don’t go unreciprocated. Still, the explicit reassurance of your friendship always manages to bring a warmth to your heart and this time is no different. Wanda clearly takes in your expression because she relaxes too, her shoulders sagging and a slight upwards turn appearing on her lips.

…It’s the perfect time to double down.

“The costume memories were a big gap! It’s understandable to miss them, Wands! But don’t you worry, I’ll just tell your team about it and make sure they give you plenty of reminders.”

“You wouldn't-” 

You really wouldn't. Your lack of communication with the Avengers aside, the moments between you and Wanda – the shared memories, experiences, and jokes – they're something you're fiercely protective of. A feeling only comparable to jealousy sets in when you imagine one of Wanda's new friends calling her ‘ladybug’ the way you do. It's your nickname for her, a term for only you to use and nobody else should even get to know it. Not that you'll ever let Wanda know that.

Instead, you look down at the watch on your wrist, flashing the display to her as you grin and begin to walk backwards. Her head tilts in confusion and you almost hesitate to go. Almost. “Oh, would you look at the time? I better get back to my patrol. Got a lot to discuss with any Avengers I run into, afterall.”

Wanda's eyes darken, squinting and daring you to say anything about your childhood nickname for her. You smile innocently in return.

“See you at 2pm, бубамара! Dress comfy!”

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General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @holiday-house-of-m @emiliaisdead @wonderingnerd @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @chasethemoon @alexawynters @username23345 @marvelogic

A/N: went home for Easter and lost absolutely all my motivation to write, but it's here now 😭 anyway, comment/reblog with your thoughts on this one and what you want to see in future! :)

[quimichi]

┗━⌜ALL I WANT IS FOR YOU TO BE HAPPY⌟━┛

✎ Life with the Archons (Venti, Zhongli, Raiden, Nahida and Furina)

VENTI - Videtis illam spirare libertatis auram

.ೃ࿐ Having you by his side, sleeping all so peacefully in his arms puts him at ease. Knowing you trust him makes him feel all warm in his heart-

.ೃ࿐ It's not like he would ever hurt you, it's quite the opposite. But knowing that you are just as comfortable around him as he is with you is enough to make him fall in love with you all over again

.ೃ࿐ would he tell you this? Yeah sure! But not without a little teasing and playful nagging when he sees a flustered or touched reaction on you

.ೃ࿐ your days together are mostly spend with you both doing literally anything that come to mind

.ೃ࿐ ideas like trying out Dionas newest creation or seeing who eats the most dishes at good hunter come mostly for your lovely bard

.ೃ࿐ he just wants you both having fun! Thinking about sad things all day would only crush someone, and he would never want to see you in a pain he has experienced

.ೃ࿐ I think everyone said it at least once, but yes he would write songs about you. Stories of you and your great adventures, how strong, generous and kind you are.

.ೃ࿐ and how kind you are always picking him up from angel's share when he lost both track of time and amounts of liquor he already drank

.ೃ࿐ he does feel guilty tho, but you know he is sorry and it's not like it happens so often. Just when it does, it reaaally does. But everybody got their flaws right?

.ೃ࿐ not you tho, not his beautiful Windblume (basic ik but as a German its so cute to me :))

.ೃ࿐ once he tried cooking your favorite dish. You were busy all day with missions form the adventurers guild and came back all exhausted and hungry....and to Venti desperately trying to put out the little fire that he started with his vision....the fire only got bigger

.ೃ࿐he claimed it was still edible. He's not wrong it was, just not tasty at all. Not him being banned from the kitchen now, nahhh

.ೃ࿐ he was super sad tho he wanted to fo something good for you and messed it up cause he looked away for a few seconds by preparing something else

.ೃ࿐ also, one thing he definitely loves and can't be without, besides you, is having you present beside him when he sleeps.

.ೃ࿐ you are there, and save, I his touch so he knows you won't be gone

ZHONGLI - if fairness is lost, then the contract shall become proof of one's deception

☄. *. ⋆ wakes up at the ass crack of morning, makes himself a tea and watches the sunset paint you like a deity sleeping in bed while sitting down on some chair to appear even more like a love sick grandpa

☄. *. ⋆ and if you do feel eyes on you, he greets you with a deep "Good morning my beloved, I hope this night gave you the best rest" and then let's you wake up slowly while he also makes you a tea, or coffee what you prefer

☄. *. ⋆ he'll always question himself, does he even deserve you? Yeah, yeah he does obviously but...why does it always feel so surreal having your pure soul around him????

☄. *. ⋆ hes in love let him be, I really like to think of him in a relationship as this really gentle,like and caring "grandpa" who's stuck in time. Like a guy you'd see in a historical romance book

☄. *. ⋆ going out with him is....something. he either fully forgot his wallet or is just a few mora to short for the groceries. But that's not everyday tho it happens here and there, the people are also used ro it like no one is surprised-

☄. *. ⋆ he just makes a contract with them that he will bring the rest money tomorrow and boom, done everyone happy---he is a man of his words

☄. *. ⋆ looooves walks with you, either hold his hand, the hand that is ready to do everything for you. Or link arms together like whatever you like baby ❤️

☄. *. ⋆ when you agreed to be in a relationship with him he promised you to take best care of you and that there shall be no worry left in your head

☄. *. ⋆ he does hold this promise (with maybe a teeny tiny contract, maybeee) and that also includes dinner. He knew you'd be home on a short while and completely forgot to prepare anything to eat, neither did you think about getting food home either

☄. *. ⋆ then Zhongli made a mistake of agreeing that Hu Tao helps him get some food on the table. And food on the table there was cause she did something. What it exactly is, nobody knows, how she exactly did that, a mystery. But it was good, and it made Zhongli realize how much of a good friend he had awwwww

☄. *. ⋆ a little friendship appreciation cause it's cute---

☄. *. ⋆ oh and grandpa goes to sleep exactly at 9, maybe at 10. On his rebellious days it can be at 11. Like on date nights he just says, eh fuck it I spend more time with my beloved, and goes to bed when you do. And also loves to do your night routine like you, skin care or not, he does it. To feel both closer and more connected with you and make you realize you mean a lot to him

☄. *. ⋆ being open to your things is a way of him telling you, hey, you're great yk that? His love language is acts of service cause, jsnwkajqks

RAIDEN - This body's purpose is to withstand wear and tear, that the one within might achieve Eternity

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ she would eat cake for breakfast if you would let her. Sweet things make her happy, youre sweet, you make her happy

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "I love you...Y/N, for eternity" - 😐

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ give her time to show emotions, she can do that much better with words and actions

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ wake you up like a mom tho, like you both sleep together and suddenly she rips open the curtains and is like "Rise and shine" at 7am summertime where the sun is exactly where you dont want it to be

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ pls don't let go over her hand. In public she'll always have a hand on you, she's scared you'll leave if she doesn't. But she slowly but surely realizes that you won't, you would never

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ like, imagine you see this cute ass cat or dog and you smile so bright and she's giving this bombastic side eye bitch look. Goals I'd want that

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yes but in reality she'd want to pet it. Pls keep asking for you both to adopt a pet so she doesn't has to ask-

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yeah uh you cook, or you both cause her alone is a much known disaster. But she is ready to learn and is ready for the baby steps. She really does listen and learns fast. Her cooking now is simple, but edible and improves with every new try

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ thanks to your help obviously. And if you're just as bad, don't worry. She's happy you both can learn something and spend more time together. She really does enjoy your company, it keeps her at ease and let's her have a clear mind. You most definitely are her comfort character haha

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ but she's not only the love of mine and your life, she's also super protective of you. Getting fo a point where not even the waiter is allowed to speak the most necessary words to you. She is an Archon and should obviously be respected, like anyone else, but also you as her partner should also receive the same respect

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ falling asleep with you is easy, falling asleep without you difficult. You both need each other, but as stubborn you both are, you are the only one who can admit it truly. She also lets it slip but not in a "I can't sleep without you" more in a "Where in a relationship aren't we, so we should sleep beside each other" looking for excuses. She's my everything pls

NAHIDA - I might look like a child, but don't be fooled: I understand this world much better than any grown-up. (PLATONIC)

༊*·˚ she's the best to live with. She'll wake you up with her gentle words and quietly opens the window so a breeze can go inside and wake you up even softer

༊*·˚ sometimes she'll join you in bed when the time allows it she listens to you talk about your dreams and how you slept at night

༊*·˚ she makes sure you know that's she cares about you like duh you're friends

༊*·˚ breakfast is the absolute healthiest of them all, you have such a variety of fruits and vegetables to pick from, different kinds of bread and toppings. And a good smoothie, or maybe you want some tea?

༊*·˚ you both always eat together, she loves spending time with you. Especially the relaxing ones. But also, one of her favorites is going out with you helping the people. She has a very good understanding of humans and their emotions after all, and since shes so caring she loves to help around

༊*·˚ if you're not busy you're always free to join her

༊*·˚ loves to see you smile and be happy. She did live for 500 years but compared to the others its almost nothing, so you are her first true friend and she is greatful you let her discover friendship with you

༊*·˚ since shes super smart she teaches you a few things and is happy when you remember some of the things she said

༊*·˚ before you both call it a day she loves to sit in her swing, or you sit in her swing and you both gentle push each other while watching the stars

༊*·˚ sometimes you both even sleep together, cuddled up while reading together till one falls asleep first and puts the book away. Or you both simply talk about your day, your little adventures and what you both discovered

༊*·˚ she is all in all the most chilled person to be with like, pls----

FURINA - Her eyes... they're like the darkness at the bottom of the ocean

*ೃ༄ being with the hydro Archon is definitely...something?

*ೃ༄ she's super clingy in the morning, both wanting so spend all day together outside or in bed. It's hard decision for her...you do it pls

*ೃ༄ your at almost EVERY trail, sitting beside her. And honestly, with just your presence it's not boring anymore, or almost. She truly is less lonely with you around and feels more alive

*ೃ༄ it makes her all giddy inside and proud having you as hers. And because of this she will always gift you the most beautiful things! It's always something new everyday. Waking up and knowing at some time of the day she will surprise you with something new and exciting is worth going out of bed

*ೃ༄ you both also always eat out together, it's rare anyone of you cooks and eats at home. She'll always drag you to the fanciest restaurants to eat in pure elegance and flamboyance (Tengen that you?)

*ೃ༄ btw hugs make her feel better :)

*ೃ༄ if she ever notices you not paying attention, she'll lightly splash your face "Hehe, now you're awake again, so where we're we.."

*ೃ༄ I said she's clingy in the morning, but at night she holds her distance, till you both sleep and she unconsciously scoots closer till she cuddles you. Throughout the day she holds distance but somehow can appear clingy but not? She's a mystery, but she's your mystery

[aragaki]

Darlin/Guy thoughts

I've read all of domini_moonbeam's Darlin' content and it's widened my scope for non-canon Darlin' pairings more than ever before. So, Darlin' x Pizza Guy, yeah?

I see their meet-cute being by a dumpster and I'm not kidding. Guy is working a closing shift with Rosa, long into the night and when Rosa seems nervous about going by herself out in the dark Guy volunteers to take the trash out himself.

Darlin' had been fighting again that night, as they often do. They found some vamps they recognized as Quinn's friends and shifted to take them on. They ran off after a short scrap, they got a few bites off Darlin' and they decided to duck into some alley to recover their stamina before making their way home - and ended up passing out.

This is how Guy finds them, passed out and bleeding, and is terrified he just stumbled on a crime scene but Darlin' wakes up and when they catch his eye, he just freezes. It's like being a rabbit caught in the sight of a predator. A very, very, extremely hot predator, but a predator nonetheless.

Darlin' brushes off his offer to call the police and tries to stand, wanting to get the hell out before they fuck up and break covert but Guy,,, isn't letting them run off. He makes them come inside, whips them up something to eat while assuring Rosa that everything is fine and she can head out. Something about the way the Darlin' is acting, hunching their shoulders and making themselves smaller, is hurting Guy. Like they don't know how to let themselves accept the smallest bit of kindness.

He makes them promise to keep coming back. He gets the feeling they don't feed themselves enough and even though pizza hasn't been formally inducted into the basic food groups it's gotta be better than nothing. And to his surprise, they do!! They come back randomly, without a pattern, but he never goes long without seeing his odd new friend. Darlin' is even more surprised than he is that they keep coming back.

Darlin' can't help but wonder if they're projecting their unempowered friend onto him. A friend that they can't see any more after Quinn's attack. Their memories were wiped and they can't risk them resurfacing and breaking covert. But Guy is nothing like their friend so that theory dies out quickly. Really, there's no one like Guy in Dahlia. He's his own special brand of chaos.

David is expecting to have the same problems with Darlin' that he did with Asher. He's fully expecting Darlin' to avoid the courses, break covert, and just shift for their human to get it done. But they don't. They attend all the classes, they do all the boring paperwork that they hate, wait for the confirmation, they do everything perfectly to Department standards. Darlin' has had so much in their life go wrong, constantly, they want this to go well. Just once. They want to have something good, this one time.

But once all the awful desk work is done, they do just shift for Guy to get it over with. Their patience has hit 0 and they just want to have him know them already, to share this part of themselves with the first partner they've had that makes them feel safe. And Guy reacts the exact way you'd expect but he adjusts fast. Absolutely makes an omegaverse comment and does psychic damage to Darlin'.

The pattern of unempowered human mates to powerhouse wolves also isn't lost on David. First himself, then Ash, now Darlin'. It feels like the Shaw pack's strongest wolves can't help themselves much to his begrudging amusement.

Darlin' is worried about having someone unempowered so close to them again. They weren't able to protect their friend, only save them after Quinn had already hurt them. They don't want that to happen to Guy, it would break them to fail a loved one again. They can't help but spiral but Guy is there to wrap his arms around Darlin' and remind them that this time is different.

They have a family, their pack, there to help them, they know what Quinn can do this time. They can help. They will help. He's safe and he trusts Darlin' and the pack so much.

Guy makes Darlin' ugly laugh. Not amused huffs or chuckles, full teary-eyed belly laughs that they can't control no matter how hard they try. If he's lucky, he might get them to snort and he'd brag about it for the rest of the day.

The first time the pack heard it, it almost brought everything to a standstill. Darlin' has never laughed like that. Not even before Quinn. No one knew that Darlin' was even capable of sounding that happy, as bleak as it was to realize. That simple fact wins Guy a boatload of points with the pack.

Guy recognizes Asher at his first pack meeting as one half of the couple with the huge dog and connects the dots instantly. That's how David ends up finding out that Ash let an unempowered human see him shifted, didn't report it, all to get out of answering the door.

Despite revealing his secret to the big man, Ash and Guy get along like a house on fire, and Darlin' and Babe always feel like they're third-wheeling when they all get together.

Once the term "mates" has been established for their relationship, Guy says it more than anyone else in the pack. It's always "my mate", "I'm Darlin's mate" and so on. Using that word makes Darlin's core light up, it gives them a spoonful of euphoria and he knows that. He basically has a dopamine button for his grumpy wolf and has no shame in using it and the bitten-back smile and duck of their chin lets him know they don't mind it either.

Angel, Babe, Sweetheart, and Guy are all menaces. This is established in their personalities by Mr. Erik Redacted himself so when they're all in the same place??? At the same time??? Together??? Their mates are taken for a ride, except for Asher who is on Team Menace. Which leaves poor David, Darlin', and Milo to weather their combined shenanigans.

Guy takes care of Darlin' especially when they move in together. In the same place, Guy can do better for them than pizza, which he finds out they eat way too much of. Darlin' can't cook, and hardly thinks of themselves worth the effort to try, so they order in way more than they should. Luckily for them, Guy is anything but helpless in the kitchen and before they know it, almost every meal they have is homecooked. Even leftovers are stored away in the freezer for the moments that Guy doesn't feel like cooking or Darlin' doesn't wanna wait.

Loving Guy is easy. He makes them feel happy and safe, something they didn't even know they were capable of experiencing. Darlin' makes Guy feel heard and appreciated, in a way he wasn't expecting.

[its-actually-minicika]

THW Aemond's Kink List (18+)

Pairing: Dark!Aemond x Reader;

Warnings: nsfw situations;

Author's Note: You made me do this. You created this monstrosity. I hope this is exactly what you wanted, you sick, sick ppl

I'm done forever I FEEL SO ASHAMED PLS STOP ASKING ME FOR THE LIST NOW I HAVE 2 NEW REQS THAT MENTION IT 😭😀

Just as the title says, this is a basic list that dives into what's going on in that (even more basic) head of his.

I ended up splitting this into halves - one that speaks of his kinks when engaging with a casual sexual partner, and the other that goes into detail about what he's like strictly with the reader.

With Someone He Doesn't "Love"

When it comes to having sex for the simple sake of it, Aemond is a hard dom. He takes what he needs, with little to no regard for the feelings of others, and immediately leaves thereafter.

Although he still likes to give pleasure in his own way, and knows that aftercare is important, he's taking part in an actual war. Which often means he's more needed somewhere else, and is always left pent up and frustrated.

On his partner:

Choking (Breath Play);

Surprisingly sensual - not at all what you'd expect, with how aggressive he is in "The Harshest Winters", outside the bedroom.

Bondage;

No, not with his eyepatch. It takes a lot of trust for Aemond to remove it in the presence of anyone, even more so in the presence of a bedmate. Still, he's not against using the ropes that secure his clothing, or the leathers that go around his waist.

Degradation (Humiliation Play);

It just gets him going - no surprises here.

Impact Play;

Spanking, hair pulling, mark leaving. He's a possessive man, and likes to see the aftermath of his sessions on his willing partner;

Begging;

He'll be as mean and cruel as he sees fit. And the more his lover begs, the harsher he gets.

Sadism;

As seen in "Begging". The bedroom is the one place where he can retaliate on all the shit that he's been through, on all the wrongs that he thinks have been commited against him. Unfortunately, his partner gets to feel the worst of it.

Orgasm Denial;

This is less for the sake of his bedmate's pleasure, as it is for the fact that he needs a lot of time to actually finish.

Aemond hyperfixates on things, and he likes the feeling of finishing at the same time as his partner.

Unless he's close to an orgasm, they won't feel the edge of relief anytime soon.

Sensory Depravation;

Blindfolds, blindfolds, blindfolds. He gets to feel in utter control, and his partner doesn't have to see his scarred face.

Somewhat Roleplay;

If he's been engaging in it before you, he demands his partner to call him their "King", or "Master".

But if it's post meeting you, he just pretends he's doing you, instead. Bonus, he might just choke out your name when he's done defiling you inside his mind.

Edging;

More or less something that's unintentional.

Spitting (?);

I haven't made my mind about this one. To me, THW Aemond is a very clean and up-kept person. He might deem both his seed and saliva to be something dirty, something that shouldn’t be spread around (lmao that's why Alys is pregnant, he just never pulls out).

So if he does spit in someone's mouth, it's more so to degrade them further, or assert his claim over them.

Breeding Kink;

Come on.

We've all seen it coming - nobody's surprised with that one.

Oh himself:

Edging;

If he can spare the time, and he actually likes his bedmate, Aemond would like nothing more than to be edged like no tomorrow - but on his terms.

No, he won't sub for anyone he doesn't love and fully trust, no matter how fond he is of them.

He likes edging, it makes his release all the sweeter, but he'll still be in full control over what's going on, always on top. He controls the pace, the how's and when's, anything really.

Praise;

He loves being told how good he is, and how well he's fucking his current partner.

When it comes to praise, they can be as graphic and as loud as they want (it's actually encouraged, to be honest). The more he's complimented on his skill and stamina, the more fired up he gets.

Size Difference;

He likes to feel big, looming over someone.

He's always been the tiny, and helpless younger brother. Twice as small as Aegon while growing up, the laughing stock of his siblings and nephews.

Aemond loses his mind when his partner is smaller than him (heightwise - weight doesn't really impact him). It makes him feel dangerous and primal, to be able to manhandle someone as he sees fit.

Overstimulation;

This one's also a "only if he likes his lover" kind of deal.

He'll keep pounding in them, well after his initial release; and if his partner times this well, praising him throughout it, he might just finish inside them twice.

BONUS:

Favourite Positions to do the do:

Reverse cowgirl, doggy style, C.A.T, standing, against pieces of furniture or against the wall.

But How Is Aemond With Someone He Cannot Live Without?

If he actually gets you willingly in bed with him (consent is still very important to him), Aemond is a service dom, a very needy and clingy top, and he does border on being a sub.

I'll get this out of the way right now: yes, he would MUCH rather you still be a virgin by the time you guys make love. It's not about purity culture, but he does want to be your "one and only", your first and last.

He's so obsessed and possessive over you, that the simple thought of another man touching what's his sends him in a downward spiral.

Still, if you aren't a virgin, and have some sexual experience of your own under your belt, he might turn your first time into a little game: based on how many men have made you cum, he'll give you 5 times as many orgasms.

You think that's a lot? You think that's impossible?

Don't worry, you have the whole day ahead. And you can always break fast in bed.

On Lady Tully:

Intimacy;

He might not look or sound like it, but this man is whipped and very much soft for you - above all else, he craves that pure intimacy with you, and would do anything to bring you pleasure.

If you waited for your first "I love you" to happen while in bed with him, then Aemond came the moment you uttered the words to him.

Oopsies

Don't worry, though. Tell him you're proud of him, and that he rides the largest dragon in the world, and he'll be up and about again, 10 seconds tops.

Breeding Kink;

Obviously. He wants an army of babies with you, so uh... good luck.

Size Difference;

He revels in being able to grip you in ways that would be considered dangerous for others - a light hand over your neck, a squeeze of both your wrists as he pins you down.

He never once applies pressure, and he's far too scared to hurt you.

But he loves how tiny your hands are engulfed in his, how your eyes dilate as his bigger body presses deeply against yours.

Bondage;

If you want him to, he'll more than gladly tie you up and leave you bare atop the bed, completely at his mercy.

No, he still doesn't think to use the eyepatch - but if you tell him to do it, he will.

Overstimulation;

He would do it to you, again and again, until you can't breathe from pleasure anymore.

As opposed to how it was when he laid with other women, he overstimulates you purely for the sake of your own pleasure.

He wants to give everything to you. Since he's a man of few words (and the ones he ends up saying aren't always all that), his actions speak the loudest here.

Edging;

It makes him feel good, and it enhances his experience ten fold.

He wants to enrapture you in nothing but bliss - since edging works for him, it must work for you, too, right?

Multiple Orgasms;

Aemond is canonically pussy drunk. He'll stay inside you all day and steal as many orgasms as he can from you.

He's sure he loves you, and wants to take care of you. To him, making you cum around him is the best way to show you how sorry he is for all shit he put you though at the beginning of your relationship.

Knife Play;

... Dagger play.

He sees his blade as an extension of himself. Again, he would NEVER EVER hurt you, and would be very reluctant to even suggest such a thing to you.

If he sees you even slightly uncomfortable at the thought of it, he'll never ask you that again, and forget about the idea entirely.

But if you are game to experiment with him, then he'll gently graze the edge of the knife over your smooth skin (being very careful to not break in a single cut) and yeah, he will use the hilt to... you know.

Stop, he's actually so gross JSKKSKS

BODY WORSHIP;

He senses any insecurity you may have and makes it a point to make that part of your body his new praying altar.

Yeah, he's overcompensating for keeping you in a dungeon during the 1st month of your imprisonment.

Praise;

Loves whispering to you how good you're being for him, how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.

Marking;

You're all his now, and he lives to show it.

If you're modest, and don't like people staring at your hickeys and red marks, prepare to be wearing high collars all the time, even in the midst of summer.

Oral;

If he could spend his whole life with his lips over your cunt, Aemond would die a happy man.

The first time he ate you up, he immediately came into his pants.

Naww, that's just sad, dawg

Light Roleplay;

If you aren't married yet, he 100% roleplays that you're his wife in High Valyrian.

He actually proposes to you in High Valyrian everytime he cums.

BAHAHA IT'S TRUE

The beauty of role-playing with Aemond is that you don't even have to pretend to be anyone else. He does all the work in a language you already know.

He thinks he's very slick with it, but one day you'll stop abrupty and actually give him a reply, and he'll go completely nuts

Voyeurism;

He likes to focus on you pleasuring yourself with no other distraction, and focus in on your face.

He's been engaging in this ever since you started sleeping in his Chambers, let's be honest: sure, you're not actually doing anything sexual in the beginning of your stay with him, but Aemond finds anything you do alluring.

Brushing your hair, yawning, reading a book - everything gets him going.

On himself:

Anything.

Okay, there are some exceptions to this rule, but this isn't a joke. As stated before in his inner thoughts, this man will take ANYTHING that you willingly give him.

If you're into hitting him, slapping him, marking him, pulling his hair, denying him release, degrading him, spitting on him, stepping on him, whatever else - he's more than 1000% down for all that.

You could be so cruel to him, and he'd still be more than thankful just for getting you naked.

Since it's coming from you, and he's so "in love", Aemond won't bat a single eyelash at you, no matter what you suggest him to do.

Even so...

Hair Pulling;

It's one of his favourites. He couldn't tell you why, but he quietly loves it when you try to assert dominance over him;

Praise;

I don't need to elaborate.

Edging;

It prolongs the intimate moment with his lady, and it tests his self-control and focus.

Overstimulation;

He sees it as a very intimate experience, and he doesn't do it with everyone.

It's even more different when he does it with you - he sees it as a wordless way to surrender to you, and let you do whatever you want to him.

While he needs to be in full control with a random lover, Aemond easily lets go with you, and enjoys the stability that comes with the unexpected. You decide how everything goes, you run the show with him.

Knife Play and Blood Play;

He thinks it's really exhilarating to be at your mercy. It takes a lot of trust from him to be suggesting such a thing.

Multiple Orgasms;

He's been with plenty other women, and his sex drive isn't as high as you'd expect. But there's something that you do to him that makes him insatiable.

Light Bondage;

Yep. Tie him up a little bit and use him to your heart's content.

Mutual Masturbation;

Mhm.

BONUS:

Favourite positions to do the do:

Side-by-side scissors, spooning, missionary, mating press, legs on shoulders, standing, cowgirl

[scarlettsandmaroons]

she doesn't think of me | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter two | chapter three: midnights like this

chapter summary: your professor is targeting you and neither you or your bestfriend are having it. she however, doesn't seem to care about you at all.

warnings: natasha is mean.

a/n: this was rushed, i'm sorry! should've posted this last night, but i was so busy i just decided to squeeze writing this chapter into my schedule. it's really short too, rest assured, the next one will be better!

you were on natasha romanoff's radar. and you want so badly to get out of it.

"oh i'm sure she'll soften up! mrs. romanoff is nice!" billy insisted, but you carried on basically dragging yourself into yet another dreadful hour with mrs. romanoff.

"it's been three months, billy! i don't know what to do," you threw your arms up and then caressed your face with your hands, wanting so deeply to cry into it.

the two months being mrs. romanoff's favorite student hasn't exactly been the easiest. after handing off a couple of late assignments, which you had stacks and stacks of from her, you were surprised she hadn't pulled some strings to suspend you.

she would very often tear your paper in front of you. she would call you into her office just so you can watch her tear the last 15 hours you spent in pieces before throwing it away. she never lets you off of class without calling you at least 3 times. never leaving out some commentary after you answer that would make you embarrassed to the core. she pointed out your shortcomings in class. she made sure to always always let everyone know what and when you're doing wrong. and after all that humiliation, what aggravates you is how she doesn't, at all, acknowledges your existence outside of class. you would pass her by the halls, you would see her near the gate, never once would she make eye contact, or even look in your direction. she wouldn't even do so much as breath in your direction!

to her, it's nothing.

"do you want me to talk to her?" billy asked. she's been the subject of almost all your conversations with billy. and he has so patiently listen to your every rant about her.

"how would you even," you were hopeless. you would leave, but you're already too far into it. she had humiliated you way too much to back out now. you didn't go through months of torture just to leave. to her, you're not even relevant. you're just another student who couldn't withstand her. leaving would hurt your pride more.

so you straightened your back, and marched like someone truly eager to learn. "i'm sick of her nonsense. i'll show her what i'm made of."

you certainly didn't show her what you were made of when as soon as your name rolled off her tongue with strength and almost anger, you folded. you curved. you balled. whatever one might call it. you caved. you gave in. all sense of even an ounce of bravery was washed away by trembling fear. intimidation. you'd come to learn of that feeling the very first time you met her, it still surprises you how you've yet to get accustomed to it.

you stood up, slowly. here it comes. you know it’s coming. you have a visual bulleted list of everything you could’ve possibly done, everything you have done that she has yet to shame you for. just yesterday, you bumped into her in the hall. literally, bump into her. the moment you felt the impact of her shoulder against yours, you made sure to avoid her eyes at all cost. you walked away like your life depended on it. you weren’t going to be subjected under one of her condescending gazes again which sheer sharpness of will have you begging for her forgiveness in seconds. you didn’t acknowledge her, or that it happened, not out of pride, but out of fear. she was already scary enough, and until yesterday, you hadn’t really done much to piss her off.

before that however... you've done a few. for example, in class a few days ago. you know she saw you. you hadn’t slept in so long that day, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. billy was there to offer you his car to sleep on the moment you got off mrs. romanoff’s class. he fixed the back seat; set up his air bed and everything. that was the best sleep you had in days. the only sleep you had in days. you were surprised mrs. romanoff had yet to give you shit for that though. especially, when you’ve made eye contact with her the moment you woke up.

somewhere last week, you also handed a late assignment. the very first one she hadn’t called you to watch her tear off and throw away. you also have an overdue paper you hadn’t even got the privilege of a free time to start doing. and you’re sure she hated the heels you wore two days ago from the judgmental look she shot your way after getting a glimpse of the maroon stilettos.

mrs. romanoff is like a ticking timebomb. one that could go off over something so obvious yet unforeseen you’d hate yourself for not thinking of. that’s what created your visual bulleted list of everything you had done for her to humiliate you, everything that she might embarrass you for, everything that you can choose from as to why she must hate you that very moment. it helps to have a list. to be able to predict what’s making her mad again. what about you today infuriates her? it’s like a game.

today, you’re guessing one of those three. of course you had done more. some you know, some you hadn’t realized she hates you for doing, some you don’t even realize you did.

she stood up and crossed her arms. you were so far from her; so many people in between. yet the way she stared at you made you feel like it was just the two of you. not in a good way. in fact, in the worst way. it’s like being left alone with a beast.

“you’re failing my class.”

you weren’t in high school anymore. that much was clear when she announced it to the whole class where a high school teacher would never go so far as too doing. but the line between high school and college became a blur when what were a few snickers became a full blown laughter of which mrs. romanoff only basked in. you wouldn’t be surprised be there was some kind of pride in her as the class erupted in laughter over her embarrassing you.

that was very on-brand of her. but it hurt you nonetheless. your heart dropped continuously until you can feel a dragging weight on your chest. to even make it out of the classroom was such a challenge as you could barely carry the weight that pulled at your heart. you held in your tears as you walked down the hall. you needed billy. it was an hour before lunch, billy’s in mr. barton’s class but you texted him nonetheless.

‘sos’, you sent him.

it was barely ten minutes later. by then, you were already sitting on a bench just outside of your campus building when he came running to see you forcing everything in until he was able to sit beside you and pull you to him. “i got you, y/n.” he says as he held your head against the crook of his neck where you just exploded in tears. you cried heavily against his shoulder; the three month worth of pent up frustration over your studies finally breaking free from your system. “let it all out.” he whispers while a hand rubs over your back and the other plays with your hair.

muffled words escape from your lips; complete incoherent. billy pulls you off of him, holding your shoulders and taking a good look at your face; red nose, eyes, and lips, all puffy and plump from crying, snot on your nose, tear stained cheeks, and wet eyes. he hadn’t seen you cry like this since you failed math in junior high.

“okay, now tell me. what’s wrong?”

you sniffled hard before running the back of your hand against your nose. you were looking past his shoulder as tears continue to pour from your eyes. “i failed english…” you cried.

“what?! but you’re an english lit girlie!” he says. “remember? and i’m a math wizard. how can you possibly fail english?!”

that made you cry much harder, pushing through the arms that held your shoulders so you can return to your place with your head against the crook of his neck. crying all the much more. “mrs. romanoff failed me…” you cried, lifting your head slightly so your words doesn’t come muffled. “but she tore off my homework! she refused to accept anything i submit her—"

“okay, that’s it.” billy stood up rather abruptly, holding you by the hand and marching off back to the campus.

you sniffled, trying to clear your sinuses. “what are you doing…?” you ask. he was holding so tightly on your hand, you could barely feel it as he drags you through the hallways and straight into mrs. romanoff’s office.

you weren’t able to stop him—you didn’t even know what he was going to do! and by the time everything was finished processing in your mind, billy had already started yelling at your professor who only watches intently from behind her desk. “how could you fail my friend!” he yells at her.

you were taken aback. you didn’t know what to do. you’re already in here, he already yelled at her, knowing mrs. romanoff, you both would suffer the same consequences as if you would have stopped him.

“goodmorning to you too, mr. maximoff.”

her chin was resting on the back of her hand. she was looking at him so intently, as if she was interested in everything he has to say—as if she’ll hear him out. you were getting the strongest sense of déjà vu. you’ve been here before. you knew how this was going to end. you knew how much this would amuse her. you knew because this happened to you.

“y/n doesn’t deserve that.”

you can hear it in billy’s voice. he was infuriated. he hated her perhaps maybe more than you did. it’s always been this way—the two of you. he’s always been the man who protected you; who shielded you; who fought for you. and you were always there holding his hand as he does so, ready to back him up.

“how come?”

but with mrs. romanoff, against mrs. romanoff, it was different. her eyes were trained on him and him only. she did nothing to acknowledge your presence—you wouldn’t even be too surprised if she hadn’t realized you were here. but from the slightest chance that she might be watching you, from the slightest chance that your hand holding billy’s were caught from her peripheral, you slowly withdrew your hand, and took just the smallest step away from him so your skin doesn’t touch.

you know billy noticed this but he seemed to not have given it much thought. he was in here fighting for you knowing full-well he’s risking his future, and yours, in this university. you holding each other’s hand and being mistaken as a couple is not going to help your case. you deserve to be here. and you don’t deserve what you were given. and billy knows that. the last thing you want is for mrs. romanoff to further disregard your efforts, or any of the very little chance you have of winning this because she thought billy’s only doing this because you’re “his girlfriend”.

“she was the best in our grade!”

“i think you mistake this university for a small-town public school in west view,” she fixed her posture, straightening up when she pushes her chair further into the table and her hands rest on her desk.

“she doesn’t deserve this, and you know that! she worked day and night for your subject,” billy insists.

“i fear for her future if that’s the best her entire day’s work is worth for.”

you shrunk. you slowly hid behind billy though you were aware they both noticed. you wanted to cry. to scream into a pillow. she belittled you. and she did so without even acknowledging you at all, your presence to her was nothing. if you couldn’t see the way you hand was trembling, you would think you were invisible. from the way they were talking about you, to the way they were exchanging arguments as if you weren’t there. the very sole reason they’re even arguing, they almost pretend to not be here at all.

“that’s unfair. maybe you’d see how it’s worth if you’d even take the time to look at what she gives you before throwing it off.”

“why would i even give time for an output worth nothing more than what i throw in my trash can?”

“you are unfair! you give her all these work—,” billy’s voice raised to an extent you’ve never heard of, and even you were almost scared, but of course, mrs. romanoff wasn’t even fazed, if anything, she seemed to be getting bored of this whole thing.

her hooded eyelids dropped halfway, and her eyebrows tightened by the smallest bit. her patience was growing thin. and from the way her jaw clenched, you knew she was over it.

“and you are being disrespectful, mr. maximoff.” she said sternly.

“you’re biased. you humiliate her in class, you embarrass her, you pick on her. i don’t see you doing that to others. at least not to the same extent you do her. you’re wearing her off!”

by then you knew this shouldn’t go any further. he was blatantly disrespecting a professor, who as much as you hate, shouldn’t be disrespected by a student. at least, not to the extent billy was going for.

“and you, come in here accusing me; questioning me, a professor, with absolutely no regard for the inconsistencies and rather meritless of your argument.”

“i demand to see your grading sheet, because i assure you, you are making a mistake.”

mrs. romanoff abruptly stood up, placing both hands on the surface of her desk as she leaned towards it with anger painted across her features. “and i demand!... mr. maximoff,” her voice raised, and something about it, the coldness, the sharpness, the loudness, the entirety of it, almost made you cry. you were scared, your rapid heartbeat was evidence of that. “…that you leave. you have exhausted my patience. and i assure you, you will have no office of mine to barge into, or a university to attend if you further push your luck which i guarantee you is not more than what you’d have when you’re standing on very thin ice.”

“you wouldn’t…”

you put a hand on his shoulder. he was really pushing it. and mrs. romanoff wasn’t someone who you should be pushing it with. mrs. romanoff follows through. that much is evident as she consistently tore off your paper, without fail, every time you submit it.

“oh i’m sure you wouldn’t love to see me try.”

billy gave into her warning, but more so into you. you tolerated him—this, to a certain extent, especially since he was only fighting for you. but there’s a line, and with mrs. romanoff, it’s not something you should ever dare cross. billy listened to your implied warning too. he always listened to you. so with a scoff, he took your hand and prepared to leave, but as he was approaching the door, you pulled your hand from him to look at mrs. romanoff who, for the first time since you came in, finally was looking at you.

“are you going to continue being like this?” you asked. you weren’t as mean as billy was. you weren’t demanding. you were just sad. hopeless, almost.

“being what, miss y/n?”

“unreasonable.” you whispered but you know she heard you.

“if you see a reason for me not to be, then i wouldn’t.”

“don’t you think about how that might affect my future?” your voice was soft, kind.

“oh, i don’t think about you at all.”

her voice wasn’t. she was cold, almost proud; condescending.

a feeling inside you brewed. something about her eyes. how delicate they are. how enchanting. it couldn’t possibly belong to what a wretched-hearted woman she seems to be. she’s inviting, enticing. something about her pulls you in. intrigues you. now more than ever. now since ever.

you want to break mrs. romanoff. you want to see who she really is. not for revenge, not to hold it against her. simply because you’re curious. you’re aching to see mrs. romanoff—natasha. she couldn’t possibly just be that. mean.

she is not just that.

[tiffany-loves-broadway]

Someone on Reddit asked me what my major problems with Ward were. I figured I might as well port the comment over here; it's been a while since I've written a substantial Ward Bad post. Recommendation: don't read Ward.

---

It would probably be quicker to list things I didn't have problems with. I spent most of the story giving it the benefit of the doubt because I liked Worm enough that I assumed it was leading up to something good that would justify the buildup. As the story continued that became less and less likely, and as it wound down to a close I realized after nearly two million words that it wasn't going to happen. I would probably have wound up sour about it even if the final arc had been individually decent instead of the worst thing I've ever read from Wildbow.

The characters are good. Not better than Worm's like many say, but good. Wildbow's still pretty good at creating character backstories, whether they're major or minor.

The plot is bad. This includes the character arcs, which are bad. I think about this when people say that it's a better character piece than Worm.

The setting is bad. Worm's world feels like a living place; Wildbow spent many years conceiving of it. Ward's world feels improvised by someone who really doesn't want to be doing a Worm sequel.

The themes are bad. Worm handles its themes with great artistry and nuance; Ward handles them dumbly with a sledgehammer. Its message is bad; Worm had an unreliable narrator who was frequently corrupt and made dubious ethical decisions, while Ward has a hyperreliable narrator who Wildbow is terrified to allow to be wrong, which is especially a problem because she is often meaningfully in the wrong.

The callbacks to Worm are bad. Unfortunately, one of them is the protagonist (bad). The return of the Undersiders to central character status is particularly terrible. It's commonly said that Ward isn't a sequel to Worm, because it's a new story with new characters. In that sense, I didn't want a sequel to Worm, I wanted exactly the thing people say Ward is, a new story with new characters. I just wish that the ties it did have to Worm felt less like contrived trade-ins on fan nostalgia. I really could have done with less of them period.

The writing process was bad, and Wildbow has acknowledged this. The story constantly insecurely shifted to the whims of the crowd, contorting itself in a clumsy attempt to respond to misguided feedback or settle dumb fandom arguments. If you could go back in time and convince Wildbow to sever contact with his entire fandom while writing Ward, it would almost certainly have turned out better one way or another.

The individual plot arcs' endings were bad. Wildbow basically never really knew how to transition from one arc to the next; he frequently cut an arc short because the loudest fans were getting bored of it, and it fucking showed.

The final arc of the story was terrible. Artistically terrible and even ethically terrible. A culmination of every single other problem listed here. It is hard to convey how terrible it is without spoiling it. It felt like something you'd see in a documentary about a Heaven's Gate style cult as one of their pieces of rambling religious material distributed to members. And Wildbow apparently had no fucking idea what he was doing; asleep at the wheel on the freeway, suddenly swerving at the last moment away from death and into standard Ward-style triteness. It isn't surprising that he considers the end of Ward the low point of his career, or that it made him consider quitting writing. It showed.

All around, it was bad.

[zenzeroruletheworld]

ya know what? fuck It

Teague family modern headcanon

-teague like the rock n' pop music of the 60s/70s/80s (/90s).

-he loves the Beatles and always has them as background music at home. that's why Jack knows all the songs word for word

-Jack was home-schooled as a child

-Teague likes to travel, he meet Jack's mother during a journey in south america.

-He has never been married, and has no intention of doing so

-valerie is a sport fanatic

-the key dog is, in fact, called Dog

-all the family live in a building of 5 apartments , even if they don't technically live together each enters the other's house without warning. (it's not strange to find one of your cousins in the living room when you come back from school lol)

-on Sundays and holidays they all eat in grandmama's apartment

-(I honestly think this is obvious to everyone in the fandom but) Jack has ADHD

-Jack is actually quite good at school but his attitude doesn't make him have a good reputation with teachers'

-he can pass exams without difficulty and often without the need to study

-when he started public school he immediately found it boring, for many subjects they had to put him in higher grades since as a homeschooler he was far ahead of kids his age

-that's how he meet Fitz

-Jack have black nail polish

-He always wears the bracelets he collects while traveling with his father around the world

-he have ear piercings (mostly done by himself or with a friend)

-McFlemling is an artist and has a studio that is always messy, when Valerie and Jack were little they loved to go there

-Also she is a tattoo artist

-she's one of those cool moms (of the little cousins) with tattoos and piercings who are super lively

-Brannigan makes craft beer

-Jack is THE popular Kid in school.

-for the summer break he works at the mall: in a music store

-and valerie as a bar tender

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

*teague's apartment*

live there: Teague, Jack and Dog

Apartment: fifth (higher)

-teague's apartment smells like 'tobacco & whiskey

-its actually very coozy: it's basically all mahogany wood and some decoration of unworked rock, the kitchen face the living room and it's basically a mini bar.

-there Is no table, they eat in the Isle of the "mini bar"

-you'd think it was the home of a former hippie or rock star (and you wouldn't be wrong)

-the walls are decorated with both guitars collected over the years, and some shelves with books and bottles of alcohol (and some a bong here and there)

-arround the appartament you can also find musical instruments from rural places.

-there Is a spot only for show off the vinils

Jack's room

-they live on the top floor. so Jack's room is in the attic

-he have a French bed, at the foot of which there Is the dog's bed (even though he always ends up sleeping in bed with Jack)

-he also have a hammock swing attached to the ceiling

-and two desks according to him the large one is used for "studying" and the small one is used as a make-up station.

-he have a drawer under his bed covered by the blanket in which he keeps some light drugs and cigarettes

-plus he have a few mini bottles of alcohol in his room, he doesn't remember where he put them

-surprise surprise he actually have many shelves full of books

Teague's room(s)

-Teague's room is a little more sober. he has a double bed, around the room there are several "object holders", in particular he has one in which he keeps all the drawings that Jack made for him when he was still little, he keeps them under the bed (no one I know about it)

-he have one photo of Jack's mother. it's a bit ruined, but he don't really care.

-he has a "study" next to his room, in the study there is a brown leather armchair with his guitar in its container in the corner and a display case of alcohol. one wall of the room is so full of books that you can't see the bricks and among the books there is a photo album in which he keeps photos of the most important people in his life

.....

Photo ideas (those are just examples, you need to use your imagination✨)

This Is more mountainlish like compared to how I imagine it, but it gives you the idea

[milkymoon2483]

The Blue Elephant

Push & Pull - Episode 1 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

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Summary: DBF but dad’s dead. Your’e going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM.

Disclaimers: 

This episode mentions a 14 year old girl having an UNRECIPROCATED crush on a much older man. HE SEES HER AS A CHILD at this point. 

I’m Jewish (and plus size) but I do not live in the US, so there might be some differences in the way certain things are done and some inaccuracies. My apologies. 

Yes this is self indulgent because I’m feral for this man.

I’m secular and will not be discussing Judaism in length. Will explain some basics though that are mentioned in the story.

Rating: E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Teenage crush on a much older man, Mentions of alcoholism, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, insecurities, age gap, violence, sex, food, and probably a bunch of other stuff. This is a little dark. WC: ~3300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

The blue elephant.

Your phone rang in an ungodly hour, waking you up from a dream you had forgotten as soon as you opened your eyes.  8:15 AM. Who dares calling you this early on semester break?! 

"Hello, am I speaking to Hannah Friedman?" 

"Hi, yes, who is this?" You answered, barely recognizing your own voice that was hoarse with sleep.  

"Miss Friedman, my name's Michael Katz, I was your father's attorney. I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm calling regarding his will." 

Confusion flooded you, and for a moment you were sure the man calling had the wrong number.

Suddenly your heart dropped, the true meaning of his words not fully sinking into your skull just yet. 

"Miss Friedman….?" His voice tried to break the long pause. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I'm calling regarding your father's will, since he passed away…" 

"Shit. Sorry, I just…I didn't know. Shit. When did it happen?" 

Your father was dead.

Michael Katz, bless his heart, apologized profusely for the terrible way you had to find out. He proceeded to explain everything in great detail, making sure to schedule a meeting with you as soon as you got into town for his funeral. He died in the early hours of the previous evening. Cirrhosis complications after years of excessive drinking, that’s what finally did him in, a part of you was surprised he lasted that long. 54 years old at the time of his death, Saul Friedman was a sick man, and not much of a father to begin with. A recovering alcoholic at the best of times, he rarely called or took much interest in your life, despite living 45 minutes away. 

When you turned twelve things changed for the better, after bumping into you on a trip to a local supermarket with your mom and her new boyfriend, he suddenly felt an urgent need to get sober, and get to know you better. Your mother agreed, she took less convincing than both of you had anticipated. You ended up visiting more, and staying for a few weeks each summer, the community pool around the corner being your main incentive. Your relationship was never able to fully recover, but you both tried your best. You’d often say you loved him but sometimes didn’t really like him. 

Your mother was his second wife, and after three years of marriage and one kid, they divorced, very much non-amicably, leaving a trail of wreckage behind them.  You were thankful that you were just a toddler, too young to truly understand how deeply they've wounded each other clawing their way out of what your mother described to be the ‘worst three years of my goddamn life’.  You'd often wonder, had she not been jewish, would she be saved from the displeasure of ever marrying him in the first place. Your grandparents must have insisted on him having jewish children, and according to Halacha*, their mom had to be one. 

You remembered the last time you visited him, the visit was cut short when you caught him drinking again. “ You don't get to preach me” he lashed out at you,  “You’re a bitch just like your mother”. 

You left abruptly after that, not willing to take more of his crap. At that point you were visiting for him, because you felt obligated to do that. That sense of obligation was gone.

He called to apologize a few weeks later, but the dry conversation left much to be desired. Since then you’ve called and texted occasionally, but you never came to visit again, coming up with various excuses to avoid it. 

Now he was dead.

"At least he knew when to die.." you later told your best friend, Grace. He had the sensibility to pass on right at the beginning of the winter break from college, giving you a good few weeks to deal with it before coming back to school to finish your final year. You could share your appreciation for your fathers morbid timing with Grace, but there was one thing you couldn't. A thought so shameful you smacked it back to where it came from as soon as it surfaced. You refused to acknowledge it, refused to name it, there would be no talking and no thinking of him. Not right now.

It was about as effective as telling yourself not to think about a blue elephant. You kept playing the game of 'whack a mole' with your brain, and kept losing.  Your father was dead, and it took you mere seconds to realize that you’re going to see him.

Summer 2013

You looked at yourself in the water- damaged mirror, it was crooked and filled with specks of rust, large stains of disilvering ate away at your reflection. The one piece purple bathing suit was wet, clinging to your form, accentuating the awkward lumpiness of your chest and belly under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Your mother picked it out with you, from the sale rack in TJmaxx’s women’s department. That miserable shopping trip almost made you cry. Most of them did. Your adolescent body didn't look right, didn't feel right. It was all too much, too round, too full. You’d follow your much smaller mother around the shops, gradually losing hope with every one you passed, settling eventually on another trip to Starbucks. An iced vanilla latte was sure to cheer you up.  You took solace in your sunglasses, rimmed in a bright red thick frame. The ones you nagged your dad into buying you, they made you feel cool. As cool as you could, that is. A piece of 'coolness' that belonged to you. You placed them on your nose with a slight sense of pride, heading out of the bathrooms. 

Your eyes searched for him immediately, finding him lounging on one of the sun-beds. Alone. Walking as inconspicuously as you could, you sat on the bed next to him, pretending not to notice him. You dove head first into your bag, looking for your phone. don’t look at him, don't look at him. Your thoughts raced, desperately hoping that he would be the one to look at you.

You've known Frank for a couple of years, as your dad's friend and neighbor. He would often join you for Shabbat dinner, bringing a bottle of a non- alcoholic beverage or some fruit. He was younger than your dad but you weren't sure by how much.

You’ve always found him hot, it was impossible not to, with his sharp jaw and boyish smile. He was tall and broad and handsome. You nursed your little secret crush on him, getting excited and giddy every time he came to visit, not daring to mention to anyone that you even found this old man so attractive.

This, however, was the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, and your fourteen year-old self could not handle the sight. You gawked at the grown man uncontrollably, your gaze hidden only by your ‘cool’ sunglasses.  The biceps, the pecs, the broadness of his shoulders and the way his torso tapered into his waist. The dip of his spine, the muscles of his back, the way the droplets of water clung to his skin and made it glisten…it all made your brain short- circuit, melt under the fog of hormones.

“Hey kiddo, I like the sunglasses” He suddenly said, in a tone more cheerful than you’d expected.

“Thanks” you muttered. It took your poor brain a few attempts to signal your mouth to smile. You hated it when he called you ‘kiddo’. You wished it would be ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling' or ‘doll’.

“Can I try them on?” he smirked.

You handed them to him without a word, scrunching your face at the sun. Youv'e learned that it is often better to say nothing rather than risk embarrassing yourself. 

Frank put them on, they looked ridiculous of course, the bright red cat-eye was in sharp juxtaposition to his purely masculine features. He chuckled and pulled on the temple tips behind his ear- bouncing them on his large nose, causing you to giggle. 

"There she is! Don't be so serious all the time, kiddo. Have some fun" he smiled and handed them back to you, the tip of his finger brushing against yours. Never washing my hands again. You decided, as he got up and headed towards the pool. Your eyes followed him as usual, admiring the broadness of him. 

The water was buzzing with activity, and all you could think about is how much you'd love it to be empty. It was far too crowded to swim, but it did allow you to keep staring uninterrupted. 

The friendly game of 'throw the ball as hard as you can and cause the biggest splash' was on. Your dad had your cousin  Jacob on his shoulders, the scrawny nine year old was doing quite a bit of damage, landing a throw so accurate it splashed violently all across Frank's face. 

Frank shook the water off, spotting you in the corner of the pool, and swam right towards you. "Come on Hannah banana, I need your help, let's get em' " he smiled widely, and before you had a chance to respond he dove underneath you. 

The gravity beneath you shifted as he began lifting you up from the water. You yelped loudly and grabbed tightly at the head that popped up between your legs, trying to steady yourself. 

You haven't done this since you were seven, when you were light enough to be held on anyone's shoulders, but Frank lifted you up effortlessly, like you weighed nothing, like it was no trouble at all. 

Your thighs squeezed against his neck and shoulders. The ball somehow landed in your hands but all you could think about were franks palms, gripping your legs tightly, keeping you firmly on him. A heady mixture of emotions stirred in your belly. The fear of falling into the pool, mixed with the exhilaration of Frank's hands on your thighs. You could see his large fingers pressing into your flesh, and it was making your head spin. 

You threw the ball as hard as you could, landing a pretty decent splash on your aunt's face. She laughingly demanded her son 'avenge her'. A few more splashes and Jacob came face to face with you, attempting to push you off Frank's shoulders. The poor kid clearly underestimated your determination, and promptly landed in the water, ass first. Frank cheered you on, patting his large palm on your leg before letting you fall into the pool with a little nudge. You emerged from the water laughing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins so potent you could not stop, giggling almost uncontrollably as it sizzled through you.  "Yeah! We win! suck it!" Frank's arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body reciprocated before your mind had a chance to catch up, squishing your cheek against his chest. It was over before you even realized. A quick innocent congratulatory hug, that pressed you against his solid frame that towered over you, sending your already overstimulated brain into a tailspin.

*******

You remembered that day vividly, in detail, every part of your visit to the pool was etched into your mind. It was like a switch flipped, or a wire was plugged in, sometimes you likened it to a detonation of a bomb.  It confused you at first, you were flooded with something so potent that it took you a while to recognize what that was. The tingling sensation between your thighs was familiar, but it was never this intense.  The deep shameful truth was that from that day forward, Frank Castle was responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms, without touching you once. It horrified you at first, especially when you learned that he was 19 years older than you. You were disgusted with yourself, with the thoughts that kept getting increasingly more explicit as you aged. It didn’t matter if you were touching yourself or having sex with someone else. It didn’t matter how it started, it would almost always end with him. His voice, his hands, his face, thinking about him was the sure fire way of making yourself cum. 

You hated yourself for thinking about him right now, on the way to your fathers fucking funeral. It was like a pavlovian response you could not shake. You were equal parts hoping you'd see him and dreading the thought of facing him. It’s been three years since you saw him last, and something changed that day.

Hanukkah 2019

The snow was piling outside, a wintery scene in complete contrast to the heat in your dad's kitchen. You were with your aunt Deborah, Jacob’s mom.  She always loved it when you came to visit, she loved it especially when she got to spend time cooking with you. Being a boy-mom, they never took interest in her cooking. You however loved it, your mother was never much of a cook and this was your chance to learn from a true expert. You were making Sufganiyot* for Hanukkah. The jewish bakery made them well, but Aunt Deborah’s were divine. Something about adding buttermilk to the dough.

When Frank came that day it wasn’t planned. “Deb, are you making the jewish doughnuts again? I can smell it all the way across my yard, you’re killing me” his voice boomed as he entered the house. Your heart skipped. You were in your apron, covered in flour, and very much unprepared to see the man you harbored a weird sexual obsession towards. 

“Come in Frank, they’re still hot” Deborah replied as she met him at the door, and Frank's heavy boots marched straight to the kitchen.

“Oh, hey there Hannah banana” he greeted you fondly, giving you a small wave. 20 years old, and still "Hannah banana"... 

“Hey Frank” you waved back, not taking your eyes off the man. 

He plucked a fresh warm Sufgania off the tray, covered in powdered sugar, with a little dollop of red jam on top. “Mmmm come here baby” he growled and stuffed his face into the soft dough, taking a huge bite, muttering “oh my god” and rolling his eyes back in pleasure. This man will be the death of you.

Frank chewed in delight as you tried not to laugh at him, his nose was covered in powdered sugar and jam. He looked back at you, fully aware of the dire situation of his face. “What? What?? I got something on my face?” he smirked, prompting you to giggle.

“Come here Kiddo, you have to taste this”.

He began to slowly advance towards you, before fully chasing you around the kitchen with the Sufgania in hand. You squealed, ‘trying’ to get away from him and ‘failing’. When he finally caught you and cornered you against the wall, he stuffed the remaining dough in your face. You laughed hysterically while attempting to clean your face from the sugar and jam, wiping a small drop from the corner of your mouth with your thumb, and sucking the finger, looking up at Frank through your lashes. Your eyes met at that exact moment, and for a beat you both got quiet. Too quiet.

His laughter faded into a polite smile almost instantly, as he backed off and walked out of the kitchen. 

He never touched you again after that day. He was not even around for the rest of your visit. You saw him once more, just when you were leaving back to college. Instead of the usual goodbye hug he settled for a wave and a “Bye kiddo”, shortly disappearing back into the house. 

Maybe he saw something in your eyes, something inappropriate that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Maybe that’s when he realized that every time he touched you was like pouring gasoline into a raging fire. Maybe things could have been different, if only you were older, thinner, sexier…not just Saul’s chubby awkward kid. 

It only took a second, one fucking second for Frank to notice what was right in front of him this whole goddamn time. One look into your soft eyes, One flick of pink tongue on your finger, and it was all clear. The thought traveled so fast from his cock to his brain he barely stopped it in time, running out of that kitchen as fast as humanly possible. You were just a kid, Saul’s kid. It was obviously sick to think about you in any other capacity. 

He remembered the time you all went ice skating, how he held your little hand when you kept stumbling and falling. The time when he took you for your first unofficial driving lesson just before you turned 16, in the empty supermarket parking lot. The time when you called him looking for your dad, he told you he’s probably asleep, and you began crying because you knew what that meant.

Were you looking at him like that the entire time? You had no fucking business looking at him like that. How dare you look at him like that.

*******

You had just a few hours to get ready and make the trip back into your hometown for the funeral the following morning. Knowing how jewish funerals worked you weren't surprised, most are buried within 48 hours of passing. 

Just a 3 hour trip from college, it felt like a different planet. You looked out of the frosted car window as Deborah was driving you both to her house, where the shiva* would be held. The snow fell softly and the storefronts decorated for Christmas gave your small town a charming cozy atmosphere. You could almost forget where you were headed. 

Beth Moses cemetery was eerily foggy, the two dozen people who had gathered for your father’s funeral were murmuring almost silently to each other. 

“You shouldn’t have worn that. And take that lipstick off, this is not a party.” your mother whispered as loudly as she possibly could, not taking into consideration that her voice carried. “Cover yourself up, here take my scarf” , you let her drape the back scarf over you, covering the dark gray sweater dress you were wearing under your coat, the one she deemed inappropriate because it showed some cleavage and clung to your belly a little too much for her liking. 

“Well, thanks for the kriah* I won’t be wearing this again after this week, mother” you replied sarcastically. Even though sarcasm never seemed to work on that woman, she was immune to your snide comments, nothing could penetrate the thick layer of self righteousness she wore like her favorite garment the whole fucking time.

“Hey Han”  Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of the familiar deep voice. He appeared before you almost instantly, mercifully tearing your attention from your mother and her constant disapproval. He leaned in for a polite hug, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses, spicy and crisp. He looked the same, just like you remembered and envisioned thousands of times. Same intense dark eyes, same strong jaw, same boxer's nose that you adored. 

“How have you been?” he asked, his voice quiet and grave.

“Hey Frank, I’m ok, yeah..” you replied, robotically, still a little shocked to see him again. 

"Jackie…" he acknowledged your mother with a nod, before proceeding to greet other members of the family. 

The small crowd surrounded the newly dug grave, muttering “amen” with the rabbi as he read the Kadish*. The vapor from their mouths like a silent choir in the cold.

Sunshine broke briefly through the clouds as Saul Friedman’s casket was lowered into the earth. There was something pathetic about how small it looked, and your heart wrenched at the sight. Debora’s silent tears prompted your own but you sniffled, looking up, not allowing them to escape. “Shalom aba” you mumbled as you placed a small stone on the mound of soil that now covered him…

FIN.

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Halacha - Jewish scripture. According to the rules in order for a person to be considered Jewish their mother needs to be Jewish. (according to Orthodox Judaism) Shiva - “Seven” - a period of seven days after the funeral when the family mourns the death. People often come to visit several times during the shiva. Kriah - “Tearing” - When a next of kin dies, the nuclear family members (parents, children, siblings) have their garments torn, to symbolize mourning. The garment is discarded after the shiva. Sufganiyot - (Singular: Sufganya) - Jewish doughnuts, served on Hanukkah. Traditionally filled with jam and topped with powdered sugar.  Kaddish - A prayer said during the jewish funeral.  Shalom Aba - “Goodbye dad” 

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

If you'd like to be tagged in this series or in general please let me know.

[reputayswift]

what do you think Suburban Legends is about?

I think it’s about having a tumultuous and undefined relationship with someone and putting up with red flags because you want to believe you’re meant to end up together. Basically this quote about Style:

This song is about those relationships that are never really done. You always [have] that one person who you feel might interrupt your wedding and be like, “don’t do, it ‘cause we’re not over yet.” I think everybody has that one person who kind of floats in and out of their life and the narrative is never truly over.

But she’s reimagining this relationship as a high school romance—as she’s wont to do!

Here are a few section-by-section explanations and parallels just for fun:

Note. Sometimes I use “Taylor” to refer to Taylor, the songwriter, and sometimes to Taylor, the narrator of the song. I’m not saying Taylor, the songwriter, experienced all of this literally lol 🫶

you had people who called you on unmarked numbers / in my peripheral vision

She’s noticed that the person she’s with often gets mysterious phone calls when they’re together, the “unmarked” implying he’s hiding the contact names from her because he’s pursuing multiple romances at once. (“I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl / he said ‘what you heard is true but I can’t stop thinking about you and I’ / I said I’ve been there too a few times”)

I let it slide like a hose on a slippery plastic summer / all was quickly forgiven

Here she’s combining the phrase “let it slide” (allowing someone to get away with something) with the imagery of a Slip ‘N Slide (a flat, plastic water slide you wet with a hose—usually for children). It was meant to be a playful summer romance with looser expectations, so she ignored the calls and didn’t demand exclusivity. (“August slipped away into a moment in time / ‘cause it was never mine” / “it was just a summer thing” / “no rules in breakable heaven but / o, it’s a cruel summer”)

you were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious / flush with the currency of cool / I was always turning out my empty pockets

Someone who’s “flush with cash” has all the wealth they could ever need. Someone’s who’s “flush with the currency of cool,” then, has endless charm that makes relationships easy to obtain and gives them access to anything they desire. In contrast, Taylor is “turning out [her] empty pockets”; the same charm that drew her in makes her feel insecure and inadequate beside him. A “flush” can also refer to blushing with embarrassment or attraction, further showing the effects of his charisma.

I had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs / would surprise the whole school / when I ended up back at our class reunion / walkin' in with you

This is far from the first time Taylor has used high school as a metaphor for the gossip, pressure, and claustrophobia that comes with the spotlight: (“they whisper in the hallway, ‘she’s a bad, bad girl’” / “honey, life is just a classroom” / “you had it figured out since you’re in school / everybody loves pretty everybody loves cool”). High school classmates may question the compatibility of two people based on social standing (“currency of cool”) or zodiac sign the same way tabloids theorize how and when her relationship might crash and burn from the outside. The high school reunion represents an opportunity to show everyone who’s ever doubted her that they were wrong, that their love was fated and they fell back together in the end.

you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries / with the pages ripped out

With Taylor’s diaristic writing style, she’s often accused of discarding partners and keeping the songwriting material. Again, this fantasy reunion would allow her to silence these detractors.

I am standin' in a 1950s gymnasium / and I can still see you now

A few possibilities here:

Being, physically, in an old gymnasium reminds her of this fantasy and her dashed hopes for their relationship

Taylor’s fantasy takes place in her high school gym, which was built in the 50s

Taylor’s fantasy takes place in a gymnasium in the 1950s, echoing the James Dean x Good Girl dynamic seen throughout 1989

I didn't come here to make friends / we were born to be suburban legends

Despite “let[ting] it slide,” she actually desires a defined, committed relationship. “Suburban legends” is a play on “urban legends,” which could refer to becoming the talk-of-the-town and/or a renowned power couple out of ordinary circumstances (“you and me, we’d be a big conversation”). However, the veracity of “legends” is often disputed, hinting that whispered rumors may be all that’s left of their love in the end. The use of “suburban” also supports the image of a small-scale high school romance.

when you hold me, it holds me together / and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Their chemistry is so strong she knows she’s doomed to always wonder when and if he’ll reappear.

tick-tock on the clock, I pace down your block / I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it / waves crash to the shore, I dash to the door / you don't knock anymore and I always knew it / that my life would be ruined

Again, she is placing the relationship in a “world that was one block wide,” where impromptu visits are a short walk away. Time is running out to define the relationship, and Taylor has resigned to call it off altogether knowing he’s content to string her along indefinitely. The past tense “broke” versus the present tense “dash” could indicate she’s already called it off and is visiting despite herself. The fact he no longer “knocks” (approaches her independently) confirms her fears that he’s losing interest and she’ll be left to wonder about and pursue him, alone.

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Confessions Of a Type Green: Or, Just Your Friendly Neighborhood Bixby

Not a lot is known about the average reality bender, we know they can and often do fuck up reality, but no one really knows what life is like for one. Do Type Greens put on their socks one at a time, sort of stuff. Lucky for you reading this, there just happens to be one available for commentary. For the record, I can't speak for other Bixbies, but I still do one at a time. Surprise, your average reality bender is a lot like everybody else.

I still need an alarm clock to wake up. I still need to eat, sleep, drink, and relax like a normal person. In fact, a lot of benders just... do things the normal way most of the time. A type green raised with a loving family to provide a strong moral compass avoid using their powers at all, except when not doing so will get them killed or worse. A lot of it is instinctive, there's no Unseen University for this stuff. Thus, our "gifts" tend to be unpredictable. But, with careful training, we can become pretty good with control. It's a bit like riding a bicycle, the more you do it, the easier it becomes. But, much like riding a bicycle, it's important to do things safely.

Establishing boundaries early on in any relationship is important, so it's best to pick a few basic guidelines. Like, try not to kill anyone on accident or reflex. No using your abilities too quickly either, so build up to moving the mountain. No time travel, it never ends the way intended. Also, no warping people. No matter how much you'd like a certain coworker to forget a certain sea shanty. Do not call attention to yourself, just in case someone suspects what you are. So, as awesome as it might sound... no superhero suits. The Foundation boys are rough, but the GOC (much like Wu-Tang Clan) ain't nothing you want to fuck with.

Also, be very careful whom you tell anything to. People talk all the time, and especially about the weird shit they see. Why do y'all think Clef lies like a bad toupee all the time?

Now, onto the really boring, practical stuff (yes we HAVE to do things like this, unless you want to be unalived by a 50 caliber to the head). Tip one, hunger, thirst, exhaustion, even a common cold can mess with your powers. So, take care of yourself. No matter how small or grand, using your powers can and does take it out of you, especially at first. Stay fed, stay hydrated (yes coffee counts, but water is still a better option), get good sleep, and... chill. Bad self care does not directly kill, but it will suck if not done properly. Only a vacuum likes to suck.

Two, if you must alter your reality... think long and hard about unintended consequences. Clef did after the 2020 election. Big oops is right, Boss. No one wants to deal with Nazi Necromorphs because you ran late, decided to keep that traffic light green for just three more seconds, and almost get slammed by a guy in a self-driving electric car whose car did not know to stop. Yes, I exaggerate, but only to show the level of WTF that can go wrong here.

Three: as tempted as you might be, helping your friends out of every bad situation is a bad call. There's too much downside potential for it to go horribly wrong. If you cannot resist the urge to help, stick to plausible stuff. Like, say... your pal Ed owes this jerk a grand in cash, he's $100 short... and finds a c note in the jacket he borrowed off you, or just floating in the wind. That's relatively harmless. Or your grandmother finds the exact piece of carnival glass she missed out on at the church rummage sale for $1 or such. Little things.

Lastly for now, just try and not be an asshole. This world has too many as is. Be kind, be careful, don't overextend yourself. That being said, goodnight and good luck, fellow greens.

[writing-with-woolfy]

Quick Tip #3

It’s = Only used as a contraction for ‘It Is’

Use ‘It’s’ only with a contraction, not for possession:

“The dog had a ball. It’s ball rolled away.” = INCORRECT

“The dog had a ball. Its ball rolled away.” = CORRECT

[holden-caulfield]

The Distraction

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Kaz brekker with a reader who is apart of the crows but she doesn't fight, she plays the violin and is used as a distraction during heist. And she's the complete opposite from kaz super sweet and nice. Maybe something goes wrong during a heist and she gets hurt."

SUMMARY: the reader is part of the crows and is used as the distraction during most heists, but when she gets injured she discovers something very interesting about kaz.

WARNINGS: blood and wounds mentions and descriptions.

WORD COUNT: 1846

"Everyone knows what they have to do?" asked Kaz to revise the plan once more.

"I stay in the shadows, watching over everyone and making sure nothing goes wrong." said Inej, checking all her knives.

"I escort Y/n inside and wait for the right moment to strike." said Jesper as if he was reciting more of a nursery rhyme than his part of the job.

"I distract." you said, simply shrugging your shoulders.

It wasn't the first time you had been it, the distraction. They said you played the violin, but you didn't just play it. You were one with the instrument, every melody that emitted from its strings was a spell and no one was immune. Every chord you played, every song you made, it enchanted everyone, it kept them glued to your agile hands, fabricating every single sound to allure and well, distract.

Kaz Brekker had found you, he had been lost in the music like everyone. No one was immune. His undeceivable mind momentarily stopped, enraptured by your fingers holding the instrument like the most valuable crystal glass. It was like watching a master at work and he knew he needed such an asset in his team.

Ever since then, you had worked with the crows, deceiving everyone they needed to with your talent. You didn't do the dirty deed, but you made sure it got done.

That night was no different: you got inside, Jesper by your side, both dressed with the most elegant clothes you could find. You smiled widely as you took your place at the center of the hall. You took out your weapon while they welcomed you with a soft round of applause, and then you began. Everyone had eyes only for you, everyone had ears only for you.

Jesper silently left his place and began roaming, but you focused only on your work. You played and you played, and you got lost in it. No one was immune, not even you.

It was only when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach that you stopped. Everyone was running around, the music had stopped and you realized you were bleeding. You let go of the violin, falling desperately to the ground, but you couldn't do anything for it as you clutched your side.

You didn't look down, you kept your eyes on the door. A swarm of men with rifles advancing on you. They were all hazy, undefined. They started falling one by one, scarlet strands filled your vision. Yet another man stepped closer to you, but no one stopped him. He was dressed in all black and black was the last thing you saw.

When you started seeing colours again, you weren't in the hall anymore, the violin wasn't by your side and you weren't dressed in your long scarlet gown. You were in a dark room, a tiny golden line was all the light you had and it came from a tiny opening in the window. You delicately touched your side and immediately retrieved your fingers as you ascertained that last night wasn't just a dream. You lifted your shirt slightly and saw stitches keeping the sides of the wound together. It hadn't been a dream, but it sure was a nightmare.

You tried getting up, sitting on the bed with the feet dangling on its side, and then the door opened: in entered a tall girl, brown locks on her shoulders and she was carrying what you supposed was food. You couldn't see it very well but the smell that invaded the room was obvious.

"What are you doing up?! Lay back again immediately!" she shrieked, settling the plate she had brought on the table beside your bed. She pushed you back down, uncovering your wound. "You aren't fully healed yet, you shouldn't be standing."

"Who are you?" you asked as you watched her hands hover over your stomach.

"I'm the one that saved your pretty face!"

"Thank you, then." she turned her gaze to you with shock on her face. You returned the confused look.

"When Kaz told me i had to help you, i thought you were a crow..." she pondered.

"I am. Y/n Y/l/n, pleasure to meet you." the girl shook your outstretched hand, still surprised.

"Nina Zenik, pleasure's all mine," she began, then turned her attention back to your stomach. "You don't look like a crow, what do you do?"

"I distract." you said simply, a déjà-vu, but noticed her look of suspicion, so you continued. "I play the violin and i distract whenever there's the need for a distraction." Nina scoffed lightly. "What?"

"It's just- Kaz doesn't need distractions." she claimed, and you started feeling a tingling sensation in you abdomen as she moved her hands over it.

"Well, sometimes during a job-"

"He has Jesper for that. He has demo for that." she admitted, a smile playing on her lips but you couldn't quite understand. "He doesn't need a violin."

"But he's the one who offered me the job, of course he needs it." you stated stubbornly. You weren't going to let some random girl tell you how useless you were.

"No, no, you got it wrong," she started. "Kaz doesn't need a distraction. He has plenty already." you were growing progressively more confused and irritated, but let her continue. "However..."

"However, what?" you asked.

"However i think he wanted a distraction." she said, flashing you a knowing smile.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she twisted her hands on your abdomen and the wound was starting to disappear almost completely. "That Kaz Brekker is a very logical man, as you probably already know, and this isn't a logical decision. Why hire a distraction when he could simply ask Jesper or create one himself?"

You thought about it; you knew the crows had been together before you joined them and you knew they had worked together before but you always thought you made the whole process of stealing and deceiving easier with your abilities. Nina was now making you doubt that.

"I'll tell you why, because he wants a distraction, and, more specifically, you."

You widened your eyes as she got up from your side, the wound now a past memory, only a light scar was in its place. You lifted yourself from the bed, it still hurt but you had more pressing things on your mind now.

"What do you mean? Kaz hired me to work for him."

"That's what he tells you, but i think you are his first impulsive decision. Be proud of it, it doesn't happen often!" she winked at you but you were still confused. She sat down on the chair and started biting on one of the delicacies she had brought with her. "Want one?"

"No, thank you."

"Your loss." she said as she shifted the plate onto her lap.

"I think you're wrong." she lifted her gaze to look at you.

"Why's that?"

"I know Kaz and he does nothing without a reason."

"Oh you are right, but i think he had different reasons for hiring you." she said. "I think he might have a liking on you."

You laughed incredulously. Kaz Brekker would never.

"And i think you might be crazier than i expected."

"Then tell me, Y/n, why would such a logical man come check on his basic distraction every hour when he could simply find another one?"

You gulped. He checked on you every hour?

"Because no one does what i do like i do it." you shuddered at your words, you were speaking like him. "What i mean is, he would do it for everyone."

"I am quite sure he wouldn't check on Jesper every few minutes, he wouldn't pace around his office like a mad man if i were in your place." she said, eating the last of the waffles she had brought.

You thought about it a moment, then swatted the thought out of your mind. There was only a way to know for sure and it was to ask him directly.

"Do you know where he is now?" you asked, getting out of bed and going for the door.

"Where do you think he is?" she said inquisitively. You had a feeling you knew.

You thanked Nina and bid her goodbye, darting outside the room towards Kaz's office. You had been there sometimes, usually to discuss plans with him. You never made a big deal out of it but now Nina's words were reverberating in your mind. Maybe she was just messing with you, but maybe she wasn't and, however silly it sounded, you wanted to believe it was the latter possibility.

"Hey Y/n! Are you alright?" asked Jesper as he saw you running past him.

"Yes, have you seen Kaz?" you asked quickly.

"Should be upstairs, but why are you-"

"Thanks Jesper!" you didn't give him time to finish as you climbed the stairs.

You stopped in front of the door and knocked loud enough for him to hear you, thinking about what you could have said, thinking about his reaction. Would he have been happy to see you? Relieved? Impassive as always?

"Who is it?" came his rough voice from inside.

"Y/n." you said gingerly and you heard total silence.

"Come in." you opened the door and stepped inside. He was standing in front of the window, his shoulders to you. He didn't even turn around, maybe Nina was kidding and you fell for it like an idiot. "Do you need anything?"

"I-" you stopped yourself, what could you say? You just wanted to see him, see if he was scared for you, if he cared. "I thought you'd have wanted to see me..." you wanted to smack yourself in the face after that. He was Kaz Brekker, not some silly teenager in love.

He remained in silence, still in front of the window. It was late and the sun had already gone out.

"I am planning this new job and-"

"You don't need me for the job." you said it matter-of-factly.

Even though Nina might have been wrong about Kaz, you knew she wasn't wrong about you: you weren't vital for the plan and you had never been, so Kaz owed you at least an explanation. Especially after what happened the previous night, the job gone wrong.

"You are right, i don't." you weren't surprised by the answer he had given you, but what surprised you was that he admitted it so easily. "But i thought you'd want to be there when we get our revenge over those that did that to you."

You gaped at that, but he obviously couldn't see it. "We?"

"Yes. We." he repeated.

"Did you come checking on me?"

He craned his neck so that he was looking over his shoulder, looking at you. "Did Nina tell you?"

"Did you or not?"

"I did."

You paused for a moment. "Why?"

"Because you are one of us."

"Just one of us?" you insisted. You weren't sure whether you should have continued or not, but he couldn't leave you with such an answer. You needed a clearer one.

"No." he said, "Not just one of us."

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[peachyysugaa]

enhypen hyung line as e2l troupe requested by anon

– heeseung

how you became enemies: heeseung to me just seems very competitive, and as an ace, he feels compelled to be good at many things. so when you show him up in something like a shared workplace or hobby like dancing, he sees it as competition and also starts to tease you.

it's more playful teasing honestly. heeseung doesn't mean harm at all! just libra boy things

how you became lovers: one time he teases you though, he accidentally takes it too far and it hurts you. when you actually get mad or hurt by it, he realizes his own feelings for you, apologizes, and then confesses.

he'll do whatever it takes to prove to you how he feels and how he is sorry for hurting you, which really reaches you.~

the knock on your apartment door surprises you. you don't think you were expecting anybody, and if you were, the fact that you couldn't remember wasn't at all surprising to you since your mind had flooded with the comments heeseung had told you over the past months. they all came together to fill you with insecurities and left you feeling like you couldn't do anything to the point you took a break from dancing.

with a sigh and a heavy heart, you open the door without checking who it was (please don't do this irl), and your jaw unhinges itself from the shocking sight of the boy who was at the root of your sullenness. what is even more astonishing is the fact that he holds a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands with a face full of regret pointed towards the ground. the ever-so-confident lee heeseung is nowhere to be seen as he looks up to see your face.

he smiles apologetically and offers the flowers to you. "y/n... i'm really sorry for being a jerk to you all this time. i realized it's not just because i'm competitive, but because i admire you, more so than i thought actually... i think i'm in love with you."

rest of the hyung line under the cut! <3

line break insurance please ignore and enjoy!

– jay

how you became enemies: jay's really stubborn and he holds his values very close to him (what bang pd said first episode of i-land 🤭), and for some people, it can come off as cold. you thought that he hated you for something you did when he came off as indifferent all the time towards you, though you were usually cordial towards him. he thought you were naive, carefree, going through life without purpose, which rubbed him the wrong way.

basically the two of you had so many misunderstandings about each other despite sharing so many mutual friends who thought highly of the both of you.

how you became lovers: for some odd reason, you and jay never crossed paths often until one day, the two of you went to a small get-together of mutual friends. he saw that you actually did have a direction in life and felt bad for misjudging you. you saw his kind side, and his laughter made your heart flutter. you thought he looked good laughing, and he thought you looked cool talking about your future aspirations.

it's slow, but after that meetup, you two became really close, started developing feelings towards each other, and eventually dated <3

you grimace at the thought of having to see park jongseong at a get-together—he always treated you coldly or indifferently whenever he saw you, despite you never having done anything wrong to him. however, you decide to suck it up and attend since you'd been coddled in your apartment from overwork.

dressed up accordingly, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. immediately, your friend kim sunoo opens it with a bright smile.

"y/n, you're here!" he gives you a big hug.

"sunoo! it's so good to see you!" you reply, returning the hug and walking into the large shared apartment. "i brought some snacks, i'm sorry i haven't been to one of these lately."

"oh, y/n! you're finally here!" jake calls from the couch where the rest of your friends and jay were sitting. "working as a research assistant has really gotten to you, huh? you always work so hard."

"yea," you say as you put the snacks down on the island and sunoo closes the door and makes his way to the couch. you let out a tired sigh but smile anyway. "i wouldn't have it any other way though, you know? i'm just getting a step closer to what i want to do!"

you didn't know it that day, but jay's eyes sparkled at this new piece of information. he was enamored by the fact you were working so hard for something and decided then and there, he would make a better effort to get to know you despite his first misunderstanding of you.

– jake

how you became enemies: jake is such a softie i don't see him making enemies with anyone unless they rub him off the wrong way first! so you're the one who has to start it. i would say, you accidentally took his golden retriever energy as something suspicious.

even though jake literally means no harm, you found it so sus that he's just so nice and warm and affectionate.

how you became lovers: jake is actually your secret admirer who left you love letters in your locker/mailbox. so when you found out it was him, your coldhearted view of him melted away. he said he did it secretly because he thought you hated him (which was kind of true) but still wanted to show somehow that he wanted to look out for you and be the one for you.

since that confession you started seeing him in a new light and eventually returned his feelings.

"oh?" you open your locker/mailbox to see a heart-shaped sticky note on the door instead of the usual pastel pink letter. it said, 'meet me on the rooftop once you see this.'

of course you want to meet whoever this is and rush to the rooftop, practically taking 2 or 3 steps at a time. you catch your breath before finally pushing the doors open, the sunlight glaring into your eyes. squinting, you make out a tall figure facing the open city, their back towards you.

upon hearing the door open and close, your secret admirer turns around with the widest smile on his face, and it's who you least expected.

"sim... jaeyun...?" you mutter. "you're my...?"

he chuckles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "yea, it's me. hi y/n."

"but i... you...? huh?" you're speechless. i mean, all you've done and said has hurt his feelings in some way, right?

"you don't treat me the best, yea," he confirms. "but like the letters say, i know you're not really you when you're with me. i didn't know how to say it since... well, you know, so i decided this was the best way to do it. i hope you can give me a chance?"

"a chance? jake, you can have so much more," you end up laughing out loud from the amazed shock. "i'll give you as many chances as you want since you gave me more than i deserve."

– sunghoon

how you became enemies: sunghoon's got this hit-or-miss kinda detector, and for day one, you two immediately just missed oop 🧍🏻 cue endless banter between you and him over the smallest things. if you two were schoolmates or something, he would bump into you on purpose accident, and the two of you would start an argument in the middle of the hallway yikes !

i know he's an istj, but since he's a fire sign, i know he has it somewhere in him 👀

how you became lovers: let's say you got stuck on a project together. the two of you are literally forced to get to know each other, and you both find out you actually have more in common with the other than you thought.

baby steps! but eventually, the hate easily turns into love between the two of you~

"can you believe just yesterday we hated each other's guts?" sunghoon admits out loud in the middle of the library.

you laugh and hit his shoulder lightly. "what do you mean? i still hate your guts," you tease.

"you can't hate..." he takes a dramatic pause and flips his hair flamboyantly. "all this."

"i literally did for 3 years, sunghoon."

the librarian shushes you promptly, making sunghoon guffaw at your flabbergasted expression.

"shh!!" she scolds even louder. this time, you're the one laughing at him. this does not sit well with the librarian as she starts to get out of her seat.

"shoot, we gotta go!" your project partner gets up from his seat rather haphazardly and pulls your hand to drag you with him.

"whoa!" you yelp as the two of you run out of the library, leaving all your things behind. once out the doors, the librarian is a minute or so behind you two, and she tosses your things out on the doorstep that you had just left.

"you two are banned!" she yells and proceeds to slam the door.

breathlessly, you and sunghoon share glances with each other before bursting out into fits of laughter.

"oh my god! what was that?!" you say, wiping your tears out of your eyes.

"guess i can say i've been banned from the library now," sunghoon slyly concedes.

"that's what you're concerned about?" you giggle, hitting him for the millionth time today. he only offers you a giddy smile while the both of you gather your belongings.

"maybe, maybe not," is his vague response as he reaches to pick up your book to hand to you. however, you were on your way to grab that particular item too, so your hand ends up on his.

the two of you look up to meet each other's eyes and realize, perhaps all this time, what the two of you felt wasn't hate after all.

maknae line version here!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 || werewolf!Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: being the sherriff’s department’s crime scene photographer means seeing terrible things.  following lee bodecker into the woods means experiencing terrible things.

word count: almost exactly 4k

warnings: smut (noncon but she comes around eventually, if you will), werewolf sex (so...pseudo-bestiality??? but like... not really??), breeding kink, knotting, some a/b/o tropes?, kinda some degradation?,  violence, vague-ish description of gore

Something undeniably wicked was lurking in the woods behind Knockemstiff, Ohio.  That much was obvious.

It wasn’t your first gig as a crime scene photographer, so you knew what to expect; or, you thought you did.  This town was nothing like Toledo, though, in all the worst ways.  You’d left the big city in hopes that you wouldn’t have to see another drive-by shooting, another stockbroker who jumped out of his office, another mafia job left out in the street to serve as an example for would-be testifiers.  You’d left to escape some of the brutality that the urban environment brought.  And to be fair, it wasn’t anything like that, but it wasn’t at all better.  

You’d never seen a cut this deep before.  You’d never seen a body nearly turned inside out.

“It’s that damn bear,” the officer nearby announced, his words failing to distract you from your task of photographing the bloodied remains.  “This happened a couple months ago, body just like this turned up.  Thought we shot the damn thing but I guess we got the wrong one.”

“That can’t be right,” you frowned, stepping back and lowering the camera from your face; it looked worse when it wasn’t seen through the viewfinder, it looked more real.  “Bears might maul people, but they don’t… eat them.”

“They do if they get hungry enough,” he sighed.  

“Do you really believe that?” you pressed.

“I need to.”

The conversation was still echoing in your head as you drove back to the station, which was still bustling despite the day being just about to end.  

You stopped by your desk to grab a folder from your top drawer, "FOR SHERIFF" written in big letters on the front.  Tucking it under your arm, you navigated through the officers and secretaries mulling about to the back hallway of the station, finding the last door on the left and knocking even though it was already halfway open.

“Good evenin’ little lady,” Sheriff Bodecker greeted with a smile when he looked up at you, “got somethin’ for me?”

“Photos from yesterday,” you explained, stepping inside and setting the folder down on his desk.  He opened it and flipped through your shots, nodding slightly.  

"Looks good," he praised— gruff and monotone, but praise nonetheless.  "I think it's enough to prove who was driving recklessly and who was just driving."

"Think they'll be all right?" you asked, remembering how one of the car crash survivors looked as they were being wheeled into an ambulance.

He sighed a little, setting the folder down.  "Seems so, last I heard."

"That's good…" you trailed off, toying with the strap of your camera nervously, studying his face as he looked down at some paperwork in front of him.

You were a career woman, working in a male-dominated profession, and you had so much to prove… but god, if you didn't sometimes fantasize about the Sheriff in ways you knew you shouldn't.  In spite of the fact that you were sure he wanted an obedient housewife, and that that was something you could never be, you'd been known to daydream about another life where he wasn't your boss and you weren't so worried about what other people thought and the two of you could be together.

Or, on other occasions, you just wished Knockemstiff was as liberal as Toledo, so you could have a fling with him and not worry about everybody calling you a harlot.

Either way, it could never happen.  You worked with him and he worked with you; he was looking to settle down and you were looking to start your life.  It was a basic incompatibility.  That didn't stop you from letting your gaze linger on his hands, admiring how strong and thick they were.  God, you wish he'd just grab you—

"Anything else I can do for ya?" he asked slowly, that deep voice making the question sound just a bit more dirty than he likely meant it.

"No, that'll be all," you decided, giving him a polite nod before you slipped out of his office.  

Sometimes, it felt like the only chance you got to really think during the day was when you were alone in your darkroom.  The photo development equipment here was significantly more primitive than what the Toledo Police Department had been able to provide, but you didn’t mind; if anything, it brought you back to your roots, when you were just a newbie photographer who wanted to make compelling art, take photos that would end up on magazine covers or beside hard-hitting journalism.  

That dream had been dashed quite some time ago, but you really did enjoy your job more often than not.  Sure, it came with a lot of gruesome imagery, but at least it was important, and interesting.  

You couldn't be sure what time it was— with no windows and no clocks, and with hours always flying by when you were developing film— but the lack of any noise from outside your darkroom made it clear that it was quite late and everyone had left.

It was odd, then, that you did hear a noise from outside the room, like floorboards creaking.  You were ready to blame the old building settling until you heard it again.

“...hello?” you asked hesitantly, the sterile echo of your voice only making you just that much more paranoid.  “Is someone there?  I’m just here developing my film…”

The red lights cast everything in an eerie glow— bright enough to see, but not enough to assuage your fear.

You opened the door to your darkroom slowly, careful not to let too much light in, and peered down the dark, empty halls.  An uneasy feeling awakened in your gut and you swallowed nothing before hesitantly stepping out into the dark.

Another creak from around the corner made you turn, walking towards the noise and considering calling out again but suddenly afraid to speak at all.

A man's form appeared in front of you out of nowhere.

“Oh!” you gasped, but you sighed a bit when you recognized the badge glistening on his chest.  “Sheriff, shit, you scared me…”

“Sorry, little lady,” he breathed, “didn’t know you were still here…”

“Come in, if I leave this door open too long it’ll let light in,” you explained, pointing to where the street lamp outside shined into the window and ushering him past you into the darkroom.

“What’re you still wearin’ that damn camera for?” he asked, pointing to your hip where it was slung at your side from over your shoulder, making you giggle a little as you shut the door behind the both of you.

“Force of habit.  Never know when something worth photographing might take place,” you explained, returning to the tub of ammonium thiosulfate where you were dipping another glossy print.  

“If somethin’ worth takin’ a picture of happens while you’re stuck in here, I think you’ll’ve got bigger problems than not having your camera,” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” you scoffed.  “Let’s hope I never need to take pictures like these—” you tilted your head towards the pictures you’d hung to try— “unexpectedly.”  Lee sauntered over to where you’d motioned, pulling one the more developed photos from the clothespins.  “That’s the body we found in the woods,” you informed him, “I’m surprised you weren’t called in— it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to see stuff like this,” he shook his head, sighing somberly.  

“I can handle it,” you shrugged, “Believe it or not, I saw worse working mob cases.”

“I’m going with ‘not,’” he answered quickly.  

He was right not to believe you, and you weren’t sure what to say now that he’d called your bluff.

“What… what perfume are you wearing?”

The question threw you off but you figured no harm could come from answering honestly.  “I’m, uh, I’m not…”

He stepped closer, his footsteps soft but audible on the carpeted floor as his form settled behind yours.  Your breath caught when his fingers trailed over your arm and he leaned in, pressing his face to the side of your head as he breathed in.  “You smell good,” he stated plainly, deep voice vibrating in your ears and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Um… thank you…” you answered, hearing your voice waver.  

Just when you thought he might make a move (was this already a move?), and just when you thought you might actually reciprocate if he did, he pulled away.  “I should… I’m sorry, I oughta— I have work to get done.”

Before you could even begin to wonder what he was talking about, he had already slipped out of the darkroom and back into the hall.  Oddly enough, you were sure you heard him start running the second the door was shut.  You considered shrugging it off and getting back to work, but the more you thought about it, the more you were worried.  Most of all, you wondered if he had seen something in your photographs that gave him a lead on what killed the poor old man.  

That possibility needed to be investigated further.

So, you powered down your equipment and left the darkroom, leaving just in time to see the Sheriff stumble out of the back door of the station, seeming to be limping slightly.

Too curious now to stay away, you followed his path and pushed the door open with your weight, seeing him making a mad dash for the nearby treeline.

“No, Lee, the woods—!” you warned, horrified to imagine that he could meet the same fate as the man in your photographs.  You weren’t dressed well enough for the weather— already the evening breeze blew against your bare legs and made you shiver— but you forged ahead regardless.

The moon light was just enough to illuminate your path at first, but as the clouds moved and the tree cover grew thicker, squinting just didn’t do enough to help you see.  Generally, you weren’t afraid of the dark, but this was different… it was cold, and you were alone; but you didn’t feel quite as alone as you would’ve liked to.  You called out for Lee, only hearing the gentle rustle of the leaves and the occasional snapping of twigs on the ground.

At about the same time you considered turning back and using one of the station phones to call some officers for a search, you heard something.  A whine, maybe, or a whimper.  You weren’t sure what it was; it only just barely sounded human.

“Lee, are you out there?” you called, whipping your head around wildly.  

In desperate need of light to navigate your way, you had a moment of insight and reached for the camera slung by your hip.  You relieved yourself of the shoulder strap, pointed the camera ahead, and opened up the flash.

CLICK.  A brief moment of light gave you at least an idea of where you were standing.  It was impossible not to notice how similar it looked to the background of the photos you had just been developing.  You realized, then, that you’d worried so much for Lee’s safety in these woods, but hadn’t considered your own.

Lee, at least, had a gun.  You just had a camera.  Both could shoot, but only one could protect you.

CLICK.  You moved in the direction that you remembered as clear.  It was even harder to see in the dark after the bright light had burned your eyes slightly, and you longed to reach out ahead to feel out your path yet found yourself too terrified of what you might touch.  You could hear the flash charging between shots, you knew well enough by now what it sounded like when the camera was ready to shoot again.

CLICK.  Something white reflected back in the distance, so you moved that way, nearly tripping on a root for your trouble.  

The cloud over the moon finally blew away, and just barely— finally— your eyes could make out the shape of Lee, leaned against a tree and breathing deep and fast.  His back was turned to you, but even then you could see he didn’t look well, his back bending and swelling with each panting breath that grew louder as you stepped closer.

“Oh my god, Sheriff?!” you squawked, sprinting closer.  “Are you alright?” you asked loudly, but when you reached out to touch him he spun to look at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.

“Leave,” he growled between panting breaths.

“You… you’re…” you tried to begin, but you were speechless as you tried to imagine what trick of the light could make him look like he was getting taller, like his eyes and face were shifting.

“GO!” he bellowed.

You stumbled back, dropping your camera but too terrified to even hear the bulb shatter as it hit the ground.  Your legs couldn’t move right, your eyes couldn’t look away from what you were seeing, and what you were seeing… you couldn’t describe it, couldn’t understand it.  

It didn’t look like what scary stories and picture books told you a werewolf was.  It didn’t look like an animal; it sure as hell didn’t look like a person.  Disturbingly, it still looked a bit like Lee, even though his Sheriff’s uniform was tearing at the seams from his morphing, swelling body.  His cries were broken and twisted as his face seemed to be overtaken by teeth— so many teeth— and dark fur.  

Ultimately, one last command to "go" was lost to a howl.

You finally managed to get your brain and body on the same page, turning and scrambling to run away, hearing him chase behind you.  

He walked on two legs but ran on four, his snarls coming closer and closer as you made a mad dash for the distant light of the police station.  Cold wind blew past you as you sprinted, coming to a sudden halt as you tripped and landed on the ground.  Leaves crunched under your hands and feet as you tried to stand back up, but he was already above you, tossing you to the ground again and pinning you at your shoulders.

You tried to kick him away once he'd turned you into your back, but it was laughable— pitiful, even.  When he curled his lips back to brandish his glistening fangs, growling deeply, you were too stunned to fight.  But you could beg.

“Lee, please, please don’t eat me,” you sobbed.

“I didn’t turn to feed,” he informed you, and it almost sounded like Lee, aside from the depth and roughness that shook you to your core.  “I turned to mate.”

“No…” you whispered, denial more than rejection— and as you looked down between your body and his where he hovered over you, you choked on your breath at the sight of his cock, erect and reddened and.... for lack of a better word, enormous.

You weren’t excessively familiar with human cocks (not all the rumors about the new girl who moved here from the city were true), but this one seemed different than what you’d seen, most notably in the size but additionally in how you could see it pulsing and throbbing.  His teeth were bared as his claw-laden hands grabbed your legs, lifting and spreading them.  Your stupid dress just fell away and exposed you easily, like it didn’t even care that he was a monster.

Your panties were already damp, like you didn’t even care that he was a monster.

A deep breath in through his snout-like nose made it clear he was picking up your scent.  He grinned and you shuddered.

You’d seen how deep those claw marks could go, so you were surprised when he was delicate enough to tear your clothes off without ripping your skin.  The fear that he could or would, though, kept your heart pumping plenty fast— or maybe that was because of his dark blue eyes scanning your nude form hungrily.

He adjusted your hips as he held you with his… paws, one might call them, pulling you closer and bumping his thick, swollen head against your entrance.

"No, you can't—" you stammered, not sure if you meant morally or physically.  There was no way that would fit in you, right?  There was no way Lee would force himself on you… right?

The noise you made when he pushed into your channel was, ironically, animalistic.  His intrusion stretched you wide and filled you deep, and he wasted no time in setting a brutal pace that slammed his rough, strong thighs against the back of your soft ones.

Fear paralyzed you, made you unwilling and unable to fight back.  He was all claws and teeth— where could you reach to try to push him away, without the extremely high risk of him just biting your weak little hand off?  No, it was better that you just laid there, whimpering and sobbing and trying with all your might not to moan at the feeling of being fucked, hard, in the woods, by a beast.

His tongue on your neck was an odd sensation, another way he forced you to acknowledge that this wasn’t normal— because no human tongue was this long, this thick and hot, nor surrounded by sharp teeth that grazed your jaw and cheek.

“Gonna breed you,” he informed you coldly.  It made you squirm beneath him with renewed vigor, desperate not to be filled with the seed of— well, of anyone, but especially not this thing.  Could it get you pregnant, were you even biologically compatible?  You didn’t want to find out.  

“Please, no,” you whimpered.

“If you hate it so much then why is your cunt sucking me in so tight?” he whispered gruffly against your ear before licking it, too, with that cursed tongue.

His question was probably rhetorical, but either way you couldn’t answer it— you had no idea why your body was submitting so easily, why your walls welcomed him so eagerly, why your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer.  Further, you had no idea why you were about to come.

Numbness and sensitivity warred across your body, everything feeling tighter and hotter and heavier until you finally snapped and your body shook and convulsed.  His arms reached beneath where your back was arching, and you clutched at his shoulders as your fingers weaved into the fur you found there.

Of course he didn’t stop when you reached your peak, he wouldn’t stop for anything now, so you were forced to take him just as deep and hard as always even as your body went limp and became overwhelmingly sensitive.  It was clear, then, that your pleasure was only collateral damage to him; he was using your body for whatever he wanted, to sate his biological drive to impregnate something.  Like everything else about this, it was disgusting yet annoyingly arousing.

It's hard to say how long you laid there, limply jolting with each of his thrusts, dripping your arousal onto the cold earth beneath you, moaning weakly as you alternated between pleading for mercy and pleading for more.  You watched the clouds blow through the night sky, afraid to look up at his monstrous face, at his pointed ears and shining teeth.  Occasionally you glanced down and noted the way your stomach bulged from the size of him; you couldn't look at that anymore because it would either make you sick or make you come again.

You gurgled and choked as you felt his cock swelling inside you— bigger, wider, until your body was stretched beyond its limits.

"Take my knot," he instructed darkly, "my little bitch."

Disturbingly, you realized he probably wasn't calling you that to insult you: it was literal.  You were his breeding bitch, a womb to carry his litter, and you whined at the way it made your gut sink in shame.

His noises were more animal-like than ever while he came inside you, thick come all but pouring into you as he panted and growled.  Funny thing was, it just didn't stop: he kept coming for so long, giving you so much while the knot kept every drop inside.

You'd never felt so full in your life, of anything, let alone hot come that made you feel warm and sticky and dripping wet.

The knot kept you plugged and showed no signs of going down as he caged your body in, nuzzling into your neck.  He could bite you now and end it all, but you weren't afraid of that since he seemed to have found a better purpose for you.  His heavy breathing made his back rise and curve above you, his clawed hands pinning your wrists beside your head while he started to lick and nibble at your ear, neck, and collarbone.

You didn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep until you awoke in the wee hours of the morning— that time just before sunrise where there's light but no real color in the sky yet— with Lee asleep on top of you.  Regular Lee, that is, naked with no fur whatsoever and a normal cock that had softened inside you.

Okay, maybe "normal" was a strong word considering it was still pretty big and deliciously thick despite not even being hard anymore, but at the very least totally human.

"Lee," you whispered harshly, shaking him to try to wake him up.  "Sheriff."

He stirred, and his cock moved inside you; the subtle stimulation on your sore insides made you moan lowly and involuntarily squeeze your walls around him.  That got his attention, and you heard his breathing change beside your ear before he groaned a little.

"Mornin'," he greeted, his grin audible in his tone as he sat up slightly and looked down at you.  You reached up and brushed your hand over his chest, happy to find a much thinner layer of hair there than last night.  "Of all the times I woke up in this forest with no fuckin' idea what happened the night before… this has got to be my favorite."

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked.

"I told you to run… I must've caught you, huh…"

You nodded and bit your lip.  

"You know I can't stop, when I'm like that… I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," you sighed, "you didn't— it wasn't you."

"But it's my seed in you," he remembered, his words sending a little tingle up your spine.  

He must have felt it, must have seen your eyes widen or heard you gasp a little, because he grinned proudly as he looked down at you.

"Oh, you really love it, huh?  Love bein' mine…"

His hands held your arms tight as he pinned them down, making you whimper a little while he leaned in to suck on your neck.

"Love bein' bred like a bitch, ain't that right?"

You heard the deep, desperate moan before you even realized it had come from your mouth, his chuckle beside your ear making your heart twist.

"Yeah, I can tell… who knew you were so dirty, little lady?  Sweet girl like you shouldn't be gettin' off on being ravaged in the woods by a monster."

"Y-you're not a monster," you protested weakly.

"I eat people," he reminded you, letting go of your hands which you instantly weaved into his hair.

"Well, that's… everybody's got flaws, that's all."

"Yeah?  And what's yours?" he teased.

"I've got a crush on my boss," you answered with a grin, "and I came harder than I ever have in my life being fucked by… what are you?"

"The clinical term is lycanthrope."

"Right," you nodded, "that."

"And what would a pretty girl like you have a crush on me for, hm?"

"I dunno," you smiled coyly, running a finger down his chest, "guess I just thought you were cute…"

"Cute?!" he scoffed incredulously.

"Yeah… and sweet… you know, you go around actin' all tough and stuff, but I think you're really just harmless."

He cut you off with a growl as he lightly bit at your neck, holding your arms down again and tightening his grip on your wrists until you yelped and giggled happily.  "Oh, honey, you have no idea yet just how monstrous I can really be…"

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 3 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: As time passes,Loki and Reader grow closer.

Warnings: None. Cheesy, self-indulgent romance.

Words:

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza​ @queenariesofnarnia​​ @commonintrest​​ @buckylokisimp​ @just-someone-who-likes-to-write​ @lxdyred​ @frostay​ @nina1800​

It was almost 8pm when the display of Loki’s cellphone lightened up, and immediately his heart dropped to his stomach.

Only recently the god had learned how to use this annoying tool, still refusing to take it with him all the time. But since it was easier for you to just text, he’d put up with it.

And truth be spoken, except for Thor sending him those silly ‘Memes’, there wasn’t really anyone eager to talk to him anway - so he knew it had to be you.

Thousand worries were made up by his mind, of you having realized this wasn’t a good idea and canceling your date. Holding his breath, he dared to unlock the screen and read:

“I’m so excited to see you tonight! 💘”

“Don’t raise your hopes” he thought to himself, now busying his mind with every possible way of him fucking things up - and still, your message made him grin from ear to ear.

“As you should be” Loki answered and put down the phone, just to pick itn back up and sending some random emoji’s so it wouldn’t sound so harsh. “💌💚💐😏“

You on the other hand felt as excited as a teenager on their first date, having occupied yourself for hours through trying on different outfits, as well as getting your hair and make-up just right. This was a special occasion, after all!

“I hope he’ll like me...” you thought as you assessed your silhouette in the mirror, debating wether this dress was too revealing or not. In the end, you decided to wrap a silken scarf around your neck - so he won’t have to see the scar.

A knock on your door made you jump a little. Had it already been this late?!

“Miss Y/N?” Loki patiently waited in front of your flat’s door, just for his whole expression to falter when you opened. “You- uh...look ravishing.”

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u!” You mimicked, trying to give him your most welcoming smile. Oh, how glad you were that he could at least read lips - but then, the most unexpected thing happened.

“You’re welcome” he signed, a little sloppy and unsure how to precizely use his hands, but still good enough for you to understand.

“When did you-” Loki answered before you were even done signing the whole sentence, and you were completely and utterly baffled at his skill. “Started a week ago. Needs some improvement, but I get the basics.”

Basics?! Since when was the God of Mischief so humble? Especially if he really only self-teached this at such an incredible speed, that was amazing!

Loki’s trademark grin spread over his cheeks, pretty satisfied with himself as he saw how your eyes were shining in excitement. “No big deal. Shall we?”

Much to your further surprise, the god even offered you his arm to cling on, before the two of you made your leave.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he appeared in that suit, his locks tamed behind his ears and golden accessory complimenting his look. The whole way to wherever he’d lead you was coated in pleasant silence, with both of you exchanging small smiles and joyful glances.

“There we are!” Loki declared proudly, as if you were not still in the Stark Tower - well, he isn’t allowed to leave, so we’d better make the best of it.

The compound was gigantic, having almost everything one could think about. To be honest, you had expected a restaurant, maybe a movie night or something classy - well, on the other hand you don’t know they do it on Asgard.

But this?!

You’ve never been at this part of the tower before, unaware there were such beautiful places in this rather boring, high-tech environment.

“I come here often” he signed and you nodded approvingly, “It eases the feeling of being imprisoned.”

Yes, one could truly forget that you were still inside of the tower while standing in that great botanical garden at the top floor, ceiling made completely out of glass and revealing the starry night sky.

"B-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l” your mouth formed silently, just as you felt a hand on your hip. Loki embraced you from behind, his lips gracing your ear as he whispered “Just like you.”

“P-Pardon” he cut himself off, his grip loosening much to your frustration. “I didn’t know what came over me.”

Yet you only clasped his hand, signalizing him it was alright. “Well then...let me lead you to the table.”

In midst of this beautiful garden was a festively decorated table for two, with Loki holding one chair out for you to sit down. It seemed like he had thought of everything, making you wonder just how long he had prepared for this evening to go well.

As a prince, he was not really used to cooking, so he had gotten something in advance, together with some fine wines. “Not to compare with Asgardian quality” he joked, insisting you’d only deserve the best, “But it will do.”

Loki Odinson was the perfect gentleman, and every second of this date you became more aware of how unbelievably you had already fallen for him from the very start.

The two of you would exchange tales about your respective homelands, impactful events on your life as well as your dreams and ambitions. Even without a single spoken word, this conversation was deep and so natural, you could’ve kept on forever.

He would be happy to show you some little magic tricks, such as making blossoms float or lights appear everywhere. May you want it or not, the prince showered you in small gifts such as a selection of his most favourite reads he thought you might like, or a bracelet resembling two snakes intertwined with each other.

Oh, how both of you wished time would stop, letting you revel in this evening just a bit longer...

Having forgotten about time completely, you only realized how much time had passed when the sun was already rising at the horizon.

“Oh my” Loki chuckled shyly, almost feeling guilty for you were probably exhausted. “Let me consort you to your rooms, my fair lady.”

Trying his best to ignore all the spiteful looks Tony’s coworkers gave him as they crossed your way in the hallways, the god wished he would’ve just teleported you back.

“I need to thank you, my love.” The nickname escaped his lips quicker than his mind could catch up on. “Umm, I mean, I really enjoyed myself today. Hopefully you did too.”

You bit your lip, trying to play down your nervousness from expecting him to make a move - yet there was no kiss. Not even a hug, or anything to bid you goodbye.

“Sleep well-” Loki blinked heavily as you clutched on his arm, fingernails digging into the fabric of his suit. “What’s wrong, little dove?”

He squinted his eyes together, racking his brain as hard as he could to decipher your ASL, hopefully not misunderstanding something.

“Do you want to come inside?”

"I-I-I...” Hel, that caught him off guard. But you only gave him a sleepy smile, expression as welcoming as always. “That’s considered bad manners, I mean-”

“Not that!” You huffed quite amused at him becoming all flustered. “I thought you may want to sleep here? Just sleep, nothing more.”

“Of cou- I mean, if you insist” he desperately tried to preserve the last piece of dignity left inside of him, trying to downplay just how needy he was for your affection. "If you insist.”

Sheepishly entering your wide, one-room flat, Loki walked close behind you as his glare immediately went to the sofa on your right - yet you confidently shook your head, pointing towards the king-sized bed.

“This is new to me.” You judgingly rose your eyebrow at his statement, knowing the stories about how he and his brothers were heartbreakers back on Awsgard very well. “Not like that, I mean...ah, forget it.”

Much to your displeasure, the prince would rest far away from you, lying stiffly on his back.

Thinking back about your relationship up until now, you didn’t feel like sleeping in the same bed would cross any line:

It all started very subtle and slowly, but not unnoticed by you and the others - how over time, the God of Mischief was craving your touch. Like his hand ‘accidentally’ brushing against yours, just barely noticeable. Or how he almost naturally cuddled under the blanket with you whenever you were sitting on the same sofa.

The more time passed, the more confident Loki became in his approaches, always wary of your reaction - which would be delighted every single time.

Hugs had already become a firm ritual whenever one of you two traumazized messes were in need of affirmation.

Even some innocent kisses anywhere but your lips were a permanent feature or your togetherness by now, and both of you cherished every second of it.

So you’d plainly crawl over to his side of the bed, pressing yourself against his back.

“I tend to experience nightmares...” Loki whispered, only to be answered with your grip around him depending. "Maybe I should leave."

You snug your head hard against his back, inhaling his scent - for some reason, Loki always smelled like freshly cut grass and old books, not that you'd complain though.

The sound of his heartbeat was like music in your ears, and without giving him a response, it would soon calm you into a sweet slumber.

Tonight, Loki's mind would find peace.

[husky-artz]

NOTE IT'S ACTUALLY HIS LATE BIRTHDAY- HIS BIRTHDAY WAS MARCH 3RD

Part 1

NRC Newspaper Interview: Arson Damio

Nezumi: Happy Birthday Arson!

Arson: ah? Hey, Thanks Yuu Chan. It feels weird to be surrounded and being congratulated. This is only my second year of my birthday being celebrated.

Nezumi: ..huh? second year? aren't you 17 or 18?

Arson: in human years yes

Nezumi: ! Human years ..? wait then how old are you actually?

Arson: hmmm....around 124 at least

Nezumi: EEHH?? Wait, are you really ?

Arson: why would I lie? the 100's - 140's is an imps age of being teenage mindset and I won't be 18 as a human until my my 131th birthday

Nezumi: hmm, Then how old is Ichi? Since he's your brother?

Arson: Either 116 or 117 but Nezumi, Is this Interview going to be about Imps or my birthday?

Nezumi: oh ! Sorry, I'm just surprised , it's not often you see anyone as young as you be in the 100's..

Nezumi: Alright , Then to the first question. You somewhat answered but how do you generally feel about being Congratulated?

Arson: As i mentioned before it's weird but not really in a bad way. It's nice actually! We don't really celebrate birthdays from Where I'm from

Nezumi: Do you do anything special back at home? even if it's not a birthday ?

Arson:....

Arson: A meal. A meal that i refuse to eat because my morals have changed.

Nezumi: ah, ok I'll just leave it at that.

Nezumi: Is any there anything special you wish to do?

Arson: spend time with Ichi! I know he's my brother but we just have a bond that's unbreakable and we care about each other. If I had to pick just one person it'd be him

Part 2

Nezumi: Next Question , What is your favorite food?

Arson: Easy! Steak with Hell hot sauce

Nezumi: that sounds extremely hot

Arson: eh.. it's actually pretty mild for me , I wish it was higher in temperature, but don't try it. not really suitable for humans unless they have the taste to handle it

Nezumi: i certainly couldn't ....

Nezumi: now, what about your least favorite?

Arson: i can actually eat a lot of stuff but...

Arson: I really can't handle sour stuff. It just something horrid for me I'm not sure why though.

Nezumi: oh? Was there a particular incident?

Arson: My first year here , I was actually trying foods with idia senpai , he of course didn't eat much and he kinda just had me as his living trash can with his food at the time.

Arson: that was until he shared sour gummy worms , he handed me one and i spat it out as quick as i ate it. Ugh..just imaging the taste of it sickens me...

Nezumi: yeah , Sour is for everyone but you seem to have a burning hate

Arson: I mean if it make your face pucker and messed with your taste buds , you'd ate it too.

Nezumi: next Question, Long before you mentioned you are Idia's butler , how did that turn out?

Arson: Well becoming a imp butler meant i had to be tamed first since i was a wild low class imp. I also had to learn basic magic besides my shapeshift magic, which wasn't that hard

Arson: I had to learn what was morally right and morally wrong, etc

Nezumi: Hm and Idia senpai is a very shut in person, how did you do in building a bond?

Arson: oh that's easy actually. Since I basically had no personality whatsoever when i first came here, It was easy for him to teach me things to his level. Now of course he somewhat ignored me but he had to talk to me eventually with me following him everywhere.

Part 3

Nezumi: We're almost done, so just a few questions left

Arson: Sweet.

Nezumi: Well since you don't have many birthday memories, how was your first birthday celebration?

Arson: pff any time i think back on it it was hilarious! Idia, with ortho's influence actually wanted to do a surprise party for me, thinking i was aware of birthday parties

Arson: then as i came back to the room , Idia and ortho surprised me but with my imp instincts, i assumed they were trying to harm me so i punched Idia in the gut. Ha!

Nezumi: oh!..was he ok at least?

Arson: yeah , I'm not that strong but apparently strong enough to make him fall on the floor and use it as an excuse to miss PE. Yes he was mad but used his "Injury " to his advantage. We still had a good party once they explained it to me. I was so dumbfounded

Nezumi: Well, At least you had fun!

Arson: oh for sure , I think it was the first time i had cake and ice cream , so i really pigged out on it...thanks to that i had to watch my weight.

Nezumi: you don't seem overweight??

Arson: ah...honestly...I'm wearing a stomach compression belt. I'm just a little insecure of my weight.

Nezumi: Oh, I see, I won't push on that

Nezumi: Alright, this is the final question

Arson: alright, hit me.

Nezumi: What do you look forward on your birthday today ?

Arson: hmm..after a small party , me and Ichi plan to have a private party with just to two of us. It'll be nice , this'll be the first time Ichi celebrates my birthday with me! and I can't wait to celebrate his first birthday here!

Nezumi: It's really nice that you two are so close , is there anything else you're doing?

Arson: hmm..in terms of how he grew..I'm really happy that he's doing what he wants and discovering more as he learns to be humanlike. He would of never discovered his talent for making outfits if he didn't

Nezumi: aw , that's so sweet! That's also the all of my questions, Happy birthday!

The End