#I’d like to apologize for the hiatus

[itsabouttimex2]

Platonic yandere monkey family finding out y/n is dating redson

Monkiefam reacts to dating Red Son

(Alternate Scenario)

MK will no doubt be the calmest about this situation... depending on the season. In the start, he’ll be incredibly upset (even somewhat betrayed) about you dating his very dangerous rival. Let’s not forget that Red Son was once very willing to harm innocent people in his quest to take over the world/please his father.

Once Early!MK learns about your relationship with Red Son he’s genuinely worried for you, thinking you might have been coerced into the relationship in some way. This fear sets him on the war path, racing off to the Demon Bull King’s fortress. He’ll unhesitatingly smash through hordes of Bull Clones, ripping apart the metal of the drones like wet tissue paper. Each machine-shattering swing of the Ruyi Jingu Bang brings him a step closer to you, a step closer to the dining hall that serves as the center room of the armored fortress.

Where he finds you and Red Son sitting across from one another, happily sharing a meal together.

His heart is struck with anger and relief in unison, his diametric emotions spread between the both of you. He’s furious at Red Son, for daring to try and court his precious sibling, but also eased by the fact that you’re clearly unharmed and here by your own will and volition. By nature of being someone very precious to him, you garner far less anger from MK than his rival does, but he’s still upset. His voice takes on a gruff edge as he angrily scolds you, sounding much like Pigsy does when the chef flips his lid.

“You came here?! Without telling me?! To go on a date with my rival?!”

Any protests, excuse, or explanations from you are summarily dismissed as he grabs you by the wrist, swinging his golden staff against the ground. Bits of tech and clutter from around the house gather together, forming a small mech with the both of you in the cockpit. Red Son can only stare in shock as MK’s brand new mech stomps out of the fortress, each angry step shaking the ground.

The ride home is tempestuous, his emotions flaring as he pilots the gold and red mech, biting his tongue to keep himself from yelling at you. He’s angry, sure, but he still loves you. MK doesn’t want to drive you away or hurt your feelings, after all. He just wants to keep you safe.

Even if it means cutting you off from your ‘boyfriend’. He’s only doing it for your own good, of course.

Sun Wukong has seen people make a lot of bad decisions in his time. Even as knowledge and resources grow wider spread and more readily available, people stay foolish, small-minded, reckless. Sometimes by circumstance. Sometimes by choice. And one of the greatest motivators for foolish decisions, staying consistent through the centuries-

is love.

Love, whether fleeting and passionate or slow and drudging, changes people. It inspires them to perform grand gestures, to better themselves, to grow and learn. Love makes people into artists, writers, sculptors, all so that they can share with the world with the white-hot beat of their hearts.

And then, equal and opposite, it drives them to violence and bloodshed. Blood-red hands born of green-eyed envy driven to take up sharp knives and heavy cudgels. It breeds wicked plots and gruesome schemes, tricking people into throwing their lives away for a fleeting flame that’s destined to burn out.

Love is beautiful and dangerous in equal amounts, something to be both cherished and feared.

Sun Wukong has seen both outcomes. He’s personally dealt with tragedies born of love, many times over. Not every coupling ends with marriage and children, a ring and a promise.

His own sworn brother, Zhu Baije, was cast out of heaven for attempting to seduce Guanyin, being reborn as a pig demon. Then, he never returned to the maiden in Gao village that he fell for, instead spending his life as a cleanser of altar leftovers.

Kui Mulang was separated from his lover for his crimes, and forced to become a furnace keeper. Tang Sanzang refused to marry the queen of the Women’s Kingdom, and then rejected the scorpion demon that stole him away.

He doesn’t tell you all of that, of course. He nudges you with an elbow and gives you a cheeky grin, saying that: “It doesn’t always end well, bud. Trust me, I’ve seen more than a few things in my time that would have you running for a cloister.”

He doesn’t warn you off of love entirely, or threaten you to not start dating. In fact, he’s not entirely opposed to the idea of you having a significant other. He’s a pretty easy-going guy, even when he’s staring down his enemies or cracking skulls open.

In fact, depending on who you go after, he might be entirely supportive of you!

Red Son is not a decision he will abide by, unfortunately. There’s just too many flaws to count, in Wukong’s opinion. Short-tempered, egotistical, elitist, violent, power-hungry… nothing that qualifies him to be your partner, honestly.

So the Great Sage goes about trying to casually split the two of you up, whether it’s finding his way “by coincidence” into your dates, or crashing any meetings you and the demon have. What can he say? He gets around a lot more these days, doesn’t he? It’s not strange to meet up in popular places around Megapolis.

Even though he continues to show up wherever you and Red Son meet, no matter how “off the beaten path” or “hole in the wall” it may be. He’ll never justify himself or explain why he’s there. But he will grab a table and join the two of you.

He might not be outright sabotaging the relationship, but he sure makes it hard to maintain and grow. He won’t candidly ruin it, but he keeps pushing and pushing, slowly fraying your nerves. It’s a trap, where he’s trying to push you into snapping at him. And if you do fall for it?

It does get worse.

Try to lash out at him, or demand that he go away. Yell at him, or push him away. Try it, and he’ll throw you over his shoulder and hop onto his flying cloud, racing you back to Flower Fruit Mountain. From there, he’ll forbid you from being with Red Son again, grounding you for the outburst he intentionally provoked.

Watching you grow upset with his decree, Wukong will wipe away the tears gathering up in your eyes, and pull you into a hug to comfort you. He doesn’t want you upset. He just wants you to himself.

“It’s alright, bud. Don’t worry about that fire guy. He’s pretty awful, honestly. Let’s sit down and watch something fun to take your mind off him, alright?”

And; for now at least, he’s got you.

No. Absolutely not. Macaque refuses to allow it. He doesn’t want to see you with anybody, but least of all a “hot-headed demon with daddy issues,” as he puts it. Where Wukong will show restraint by never outright ruining your dates and outings together, Macaque crosses that line unhesitatingly. Once he learns that you’re openly and happily dating a dangerous demon, he sets out to find you and rectify this little issue.

He stalks out to the park that you and Red Son are walking through, quietly following along as his glare burns into the demon’s back. His fury reaches a boiling point when the two of you settle onto a bench, Red Son’s hand slowly reaching out to yours.

He furiously stomps through the park, coming up behind the both of you. The shadows writhe and roil with each step he takes, coming alive to lash at the ground around them with ice-cold tendrils.

He summons up his shadow staff and swings it down, smashing the middle of the bench you and your boyfriend are sitting on to announce his presence, cleaving the metal cleanly and easily. You and Red Son both scramble to your feet, shocked and more than a little scared.

You specifically.

If there’s anything that gives him reason to pause, anything that stops him in his tracks, it’s the look of outright fear in your eyes. He takes a moment to catch his breath, dispelling his staff and quieting the rioting shadows. He’s still angry, sure. But he doesn’t want you to be afraid of him. So, even though he’s seething with fury, he stops short of actually harming Red Son, instead settling for dragging you away by your ear as you argue and protest his rough hold on you.

Macaque pulls you over to a shadow portal, still gripping your quickly-reddening ear between his thumb and pointer finger, pushing you in before him. He whips around to shoot Red Som a death glare, then turns back and jumps in after you.

You both pop out inside your shared house, Macaque’s foot tapping impatiently as he folds his arms, staring at you disapprovingly. You rub at your sore ear, glaring right back.

“No dating. I already told you this. One, you’re too young. Two, anyone could be an opponent in disguise. Three, he’s dangerous. Seriously, bad call. I thought you were smarter than this, kid.”

He goes silent when he sees the tears beading up in the corners of your eyes, maybe from pain, maybe from his lecture. He did just technically call you stupid. Macaque sighs, and pats your head.

“Look, just… go lay down. See if you can’t get some shut-eye, alright? I’ll check up on you when it’s time to eat.”

He sends you off to your room, spinning you around and nudging you off, sighing as you go. His powerful ears make it impossible to ignore your quiet sniffles and the sound of tears hitting the hardwood floors.

He’s not the bad guy here, he reminds himself. The bad guy is whoever’s trying to corrupt you or steal you away from him. Them, not him.

Never him.

[aira-cc]

💜Small CC Requests💜

Hello!! Long time no see everyone ☆ I came back from hiatus to share these. The past two weeks have been very hectic. I didn't have time to look at my social media accounts, only had time to play the game. I had a lot of fun playing the new update and I hope everyone is having fun too. I would like to thank everyone who gave me their support and love during this silent duration. I also apologize to those whose questions and messages I have not been able to answer. I will reply them all very soon. Later I want/plan to visit all my simmer friend's blogs and show them my support ♡ \(●⁰◡⁰●\)  but first, let's see what these small goodies are.  

There are 5 items:

♡ Functional Rice Cooker | 8 Swatches | 1.4k Polys

♡ Functional Bookcase | 12 Swatches | 180 Polys

♡ Heart Curtain Right Side | 12 Swatches | 2.6k Polys

♡ Heart Curtain Long Right Side | 12 Swatches | 3.6k Polys

♡ Coffee Machine Deco | 10 Swatches | 490 Polys

Additional Info:

BGC

Tagged swatches

Custom thumbnails

Custom specular maps

What you should know

✧ For rice cooker to be functional, first, download the functional rice cooker file from this post then download konansock rice cooker mod here. Put them directly into your mods folder. You can use this functional rice cooker and deco rice cooker from my Vanilla Kitchen set in the game at the same time. I'd like to thank @konansock for letting me use the rice cooker mod🌷

✧ I removed the car decor on the shelf in Woodenland set and now it functions as a bookcase.

✧ The length of the right version of the heart curtain is slightly different from the left version. No matter how hard I tried to fix it, it didn't work. You can adjust it by pressing the alt key while in build mode so that it is on the same level. The long version does not have such a problem.

You can quickly access these items by searching “aira” in the game. If you run into any issues please let me know. Also, I have good things planned for May, hope I can get them done in time. Until then!!👋

♡ Download on Patreon(Free)  

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

A long overdue update:

Hi everyone. Long time no see. I literally have not opened Tumblr since the last time I posted here. Hope everyone is doing ok. Figured I owed y’all an apology and explanation for kinda just vanishing.

First, I did in fact get a car! It’s a 2015 Nissan Versa Note. I don’t particularly like it but a friend gave me a deal on it that I couldn’t turn down. Once my life stabilizes I’m probably going to sell it and buy an old truck, maybe a 70s Ford. I’d love a little sports car or a land yacht but rear wheel drive is a bit impractical for brutal New England winters, and the Jeep really put me in Old American Truck Mode. But yes I have a car now!

Second, unfortunately this is an official notice of hiatus. When I last posted saying I was taking some time off it was because I had just had an incredibly stressful move and did not have the energy to keep this blog up. I figured I’d take some time to get settled in, relax, and then pick this back up after a week or two, but the last month has been really rough - the short version is one of the people I was living with turned out to be a pretty horrendous human being who managed to get everybody living in the house essentially kicked out via sheer drama. Within a month and a half. It’s a long story but tl:dr if you quite literally slander a property manager with heavy unfounded accusations of horrible crimes, they’ll probably bail from the whole situation. And since they’re gone the landlord has to hand ownership of everything over to a company that’s forcing everyone still here to vacate. I’m now fighting to not have to live in aforementioned Nissan Versa through the aforementioned brutal New England winter. On top of that, I’m a retail manager so we’re going into our busiest most stressful season, so that’s been an extra level of exhaustion.

So what does that mean for this blog? Well, as I said, I’m officially going on indefinite hiatus, as are the projects I was working on in relation, including the reference website. I’m really sorry, I’m just way too stressed and dealing with way too much. If I could, I would just hand off administrative power to someone else, but this is a sideblog so I can’t hand off login credentials without also giving access to my main/personal account. It’s my biggest regret of this account, but when I started it I never expected it to blow up the way it did back in September - I had no reason to expect to need it to be its own entirely separate blog. I love what I was doing here and I thought that it might even be a nice distraction from everything going on, but the upkeep required with this blog is just more than I can deal with right now. I hope that things settle down soon and that I can genuinely come back here and enjoy what I was doing, but I just need literally anything to level out in my real life and to not be in 100% survival mode, because at the moment I literally do not have the energy to pour into this.

Anyway. Sorry for the long post, I’m not good at not being overly verbose. I’m really sorry for kind of abandoning this project, and I hope I can get back to it relatively soon, it just might be a while.

In the mean time, I hope those of y’all who I turned onto cars as a potential hobby find some other good outlets! I highly recommend Donut Media’s series “Up to Speed” on YouTube, as well as the channels Regular Car Reviews, Doug DeMuro, Garbage Time, and Aging Wheels. All great YouTube channels that are both informative and very approachable and fun.

Godspeed and much love. Hope to see y’all soon

- Identifying Cars in Posts admin ❤️

[peterman-spideyparker]

Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)

Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.

Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying

Other Characters: Karen Page

Word Count: 1,158

“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.

“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.

“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.

“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.

“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”

“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”

“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”

“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”

“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”

“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”

“Love you, too.”

You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.

“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.

“What time is it?”

She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”

“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”

“I think so.”

“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”

Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.

As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.

“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.

Nutmeg.

Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.

“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”

You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.

“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”

“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”

“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”

“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.

“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”

“The label,” he echos softly.

“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”

“You really love me, huh?”

He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”

Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[skepticalarrie]

Could you please explain what that actually means when Simon said he doesn't own One Direction name?

I’m not a specialist, and we haven’t discussed contracts and business within the music industry for a while, so I apologize if I’m missing some facts. But basically, control over the band's name can have a massive impact on decision-making and financial outcomes. If he owned the name One Direction, that would give him full control over the brand, merch, and sort all commercial uses. The fucker regrets not owning it because he 👏 wants 👏 to 👏 profit 👏 more 👏. It’s all about money. He could be licensing products (he even mentions animations in the video), he could also organize a potential reunion and do whatever he wanted with the band, who knows…

There are so many layers to this. He also mentioned that a band member dropping out of half the tour wouldn’t be a problem if he owned the band because band ownership includes controlling decisions like continuing a tour despite these kinds of changes. I haven’t watched the full interview, but it seems to me he implies that One Direction wouldn’t be on indefinite hiatus if it were up to him. He could even have potentially reformed the band with new members or taken other directions to keep it going without even needing the consent of OT5. I mean, that’s how messed up things could have been. He regrets that the artists are the ones still in control and profiting from it!!!! He wanted to own it so the actual band members would be just puppets, not really an important part of it. No human decency, just money and business. And people still don’t believe all the awful things that went down behind the scenes. We don’t know half of what these fucking greedy people put the boys through.

Side note: He also implies multiple times that Syco did fully own the band at some point. Which is confusing, because we obviously know how controlling the label was for them and how much they profited from One Direction, but I’m pretty sure the boys always owned at least part of the band, they created a company at the very beginning and they obviously still own it and earn from the band to this day. So I’d love to know what the deal actually was and what point this changed.

In reference to this

[aleiiii]

HI SORRY I DIED FOR A HOT SEC

thought I’d update yall a lil about the progress on the comic rn

I hate to call it a hiatus cause I’m still working on it but just gunna be another lil wait in between!

I’d say we are about halfway through chapter 1! YIPPEEEE…….but that does mean I’m gunna have to catch up for this last bit!

I do apologize for such sporadic updates, still trying to figure out my storylines (the general ideas are there, like the points I wanna cover, but how to get there stumps my brain hhhhggg)

ANYWHO there are some small things I’ve been workin on in the mean, as well as some commissions, so my time is kinda spread out but I shall manage 😼🤞🏼

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 5

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Apologies for the little hiatus guys. I'm hopeful that I'm back to regular posting, Glen's recent content influx has certainly helped with my inspo! Please comment if you'd like to be tagged! x

Billie

Billie hears a groan of effort and looks back at her phone sitting in the cradle on her dashboard. The metallic sound of dumbbells hitting the floor rings out and suddenly a face fills the screen, familiar brown eyes looking back at her. 

“Alright I’m done with my set now, sorry”.

Billie laughs and shakes her head, looking away from the phone and back at her reflection in her rearview mirror. 

“You’re the one that called me, Brad” Billie counters to her brother, smoothing back the baby hairs near her forehead into her slick ponytail.

Bradley, her brother had facetimed her ten minutes ago, Billie having since pulled into a car park at the address Glen had sent her this morning.

“Yeah, cos’ I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages and I miss my little sis’” Bradley says with a smile before taking a quick sip from his water bottle, “Besides, who else am I gonna speak to at this time? You’re the only one I know that would be awake”.

“Speaking of, why are you doing a workout at----” she pauses, lifting her wrist to check her watch, “Three AM?”. 

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly, as if going to the gym in the early hours of the morning is the most normal thing in the world.

“Just came off a week of night shift. First day sleep routine is always kinda fucked. Couldn’t sleep, so figured I’d come and do a workout rather than wake Jords and the kids”.

“Have you tried reading a book?”.

Bradley pulls a face and Billie can’t help but laugh at it.

“Oh yeah sorry, I forgot you’re allergic to reading” she teases, knowing her fire-fighter brother hated every single second of school and study and she, the book smart one in the family, was the complete opposite.

Bradley rolls his eyes and wipes his face with a sweat towel. “Where are you off to anyway? Gym?”.

Billie looks back at her reflection again - she’s wearing activewear again, this time a pair of tight latte coloured shorts and a white racer back tank whose neckline makes her shoulders look toned.

“I don’t know actually. It’s a date” she says with a soft laugh, looking back down at the facetime call.

Bradley snorts. “A date? Dressed like that?”.

This time it’s Billie’s turn to pull a face.

“He said to wear something I don’t mind sweating in, and to bring a change of clothes”.

Billie swears she can see Bradley’s face morph into older-brother protective mode.

“Don’t mind sweating in? Who is this guy?”.

Billie only smiles. “Just a guy I met at Rufus the other day”.

She stays tight-lipped with the rest of the details - namely, that the guy also happens to be a Hollywood celebrity and is so gorgeous that just looking at him makes her want to melt into a puddle on the floor. Though she and Bradley were close and told each other almost everything, she decided to stay vague about her date. 

Right now, she’s happy being in her exciting first-few-dates bubble. And she isn't ready for it to burst by involving other people. She would tell Bradley later, maybe. 

Bradley starts to ask another question when Billie looks down at her watch, looking back at her phone and interrupting her brother to say she needs to go.

“I’m gonna be late ok? I’ll talk to you later in the week?”

Brad nods, “Yeah yeah, you better. Be safe ok?”

“I always am, Brad. Give my love to Jords and the kids yeah?

“I will. Love you Bil”

“Love you too”.

The call abruptly ends and Billie lets out a deep breath, suddenly aware that her heart is hammering in her chest. She’s nervous, nervous to see Glen again even though she’d seen him less than twenty-four hours ago, though admittedly the last time she’d seen him she’d kissed him without warning.

She can still feel his lips on hers, their plush softness moving against hers in a gentle dance, his scent in her nose, his fingertips on her skin. She’d struggled to think of little else during her bosses housewarming barbecue last night, flashbacks of their kiss invading her every thought as she’d mingled with her work friends.

Billie realizes she’s closed her eyes, opening them a moment later and letting out a breath as she looks out the window at the busy LA street in front of her. She double checks the address on her in-dash car GPS confirming she’s at the right place, before taking a final look at her reflection, grabbing her bag and stepping out of the car.

It’s a sunny Sunday morning in LA, the sunshine instantly blinding as Billie closes her car door behind her, reaching up to shield her eyes and looking at the modern brick building in front of her.

Oh my god. 

It’s the Alo gym.

God, it’s a workout date.

Billie can’t help the breath that escapes her throat then.

Glen really did take her advice about unconventional dates seriously.

Fuck.

Billie sucks in a nervous breath and reaches up to smooth down her hair, making her way towards the entrance and doing her best to ignore the mass of butterflies that have suddenly started flapping wildly in her stomach. She knows it’s nerves, but part of her also knows it’s excitement at the thought of seeing Glen again.

She gulps silently.

Here we go.

--

Glen

Glen’s sitting in the entrance area of the Alo Wellness club, relaxing into one of the sleek, cream coloured lounges. His right leg is bouncing like he needs to go to the bathroom, but he knows it has nothing to do with his bladder.

He looks down at his phone in his hand for what feels like the tenth time in a minute, looking at the numbers above his screensaver of Brisket.

10.02am.

Glen knows he’s nervous, but he doesn’t know why. He’d been on hundreds of dates in the past but for whatever reason this one feels different. 

They’d spent most of yesterday together, talking and laughing for what felt like hours, they’d even kissed yesterday - albeit unconventionally, but still. His stomach is a tangle of nervous thoughts and feelings, and all of a sudden he can’t help but second guess his date idea. 

Billie had said unconventional, but was this taking it too far? Especially so soon?

He’d come up with the idea almost instantly yesterday, calling Keith, his Alo trainer as he’d driven home from his Ikea trip with Billie. Some part of him had decided that a personal training session for the two of them would be a great second date idea, given he and Billie had bonded over their frequent exercise and gym habits.

It ticked all the boxes - it would be an activity she told him she enjoyed, one they both regularly participated in, and it was certainly not a traditional date choice.

It was the kind of activity that he would never even attempt with a lot of girls, let alone on a second date, but with Billie? It seemed like the perfect choice. At least it had when he’d come up with it yesterday.

Glen shakes his head as if he’s arguing with the voice inside his head, ignoring his thoughts and standing firm on his decision. He exhales through pursed lips and flips his phone over in his hand again, looking up when he hears the entrance door open.

In an instant, all of his fears and concerns are gone. 

Billie looks every bit as gorgeous as he remembers, even better if that were possible, his eyes running over her as he watches her ask for directions at the front desk. There’s a smile on his face before he can even think about it, standing up from the lounge just as the receptionist points in his direction.

He feels the breath catch in his throat when Billie’s eyes meet his, and suddenly there’s a smile on her face too - a smile that makes every single muscle in his chest contract.

Glen stays put as she makes her way over to him, unable to help his gaze from following the sway of her hips. She's wearing a pair of light brown coloured shorts and a tight white tank top, both accentuating her fit figure and making her golden skin glow. 

Glen’s fingers tighten around his phone and he fights the urge to bite his fist and audibly groan, suddenly wondering how on earth he's going to get through this date without dying when she looks like that.

“Hey darlin’”.

Billie grins gorgeously. “Hey you”.

Glen steps forward to kiss her cheek just as she does the same, the turn of her head making his lips land dangerously close to her mouth. He sees her cheeks immediately flush as they step apart, and Glen fights the urge to groan out loud again for the second time in thirty seconds. 

Fuck.

If they hadn't been somewhere so public he'd have tipped her chin and pulled her in for a bruising kiss. 

Glen swallows and reaches down to pick up his gym bag, grinning down at Billie.

“So, what do you think?”

Billie tilts her head and smiles, “I see you really were listening when I said unconventional dates”.

Glen laughs. “Told you”.

“So what are we doing?” Billie asks as Glen gestures for her to follow him, heading over to the elevators at the back of the room.

Glen shrugs and presses the ‘up’ button on the wall, looking up when the elevator immediately dings. “You'll find out in a second”.

Billie laughs and flashes a worried smile. “I’m actually kind of terrified”.

He returns her laugh as the doors open and they step into the modern elevator, Glen stepping forward to press the button for level seven. 

“You’ll be fine, I promise”.

The doors close and a moment later they’re going up, Glen struggling to ignore the less than three inches of space between them. That, and the sweet, spicy peach scent of her perfume that’s once again filled his nose, the one that’s plagued his brain since their kiss yesterday, the one that seems to be permanently burnt into his every waking thought for the past twenty-four hours. 

God.

A moment later the elevator dings again and the doors open almost as quickly as they closed, revealing the sprawling, modern black and white gym floor of level seven.

They step out and Glen smiles when he sees Billie look around in awe, spying Keith up ahead standing and talking to Mike, one of the club’s other trainers. Glen nods when Keith sees him, leading Billie over towards him to introduce her.

“Hey bud” Keith says, pulling Glen in for a handshake hug in that way that only men do, Glen stepping back and gesturing to Billie.

“Billie, this is my trainer Keith. Keith, this is Billie”.

They shake hands and Billie smiles, Glen momentarily caught up in how beautiful he thinks she is for the tenth time in only ten minutes.

“Glen’s told me a bit about you. You’re a physical therapist?”

“Yep! I work at Evolution Sports Rehab, on Olympic Boulevard?”

Keith nods, “Ah I know the one. I’ve sent some clients there before actually, to see Ross?”

Billie nods enthusiastically, “Yes! He’s my boss. He’s incredible. He’s a big part of the reason I’ve worked there for so long”.

Glen watches Keith and Billie chat, impressed at the way Billie so effortlessly converses with new people. He smiles to himself as he looks down at her. 

No wonder she’s such a good physical therapist.

Glen takes Billie’s bag off her shoulder and puts their bags aside, returning to stand with her and Keith holding two water bottles in his hands.

“So, what fresh torture have you got for us today?”

Keith laughs and Billie looks mildly terrified, Glen putting his arm around Billie and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“You did say you wanted a bit of a challenge” Keith says pointing at Glen, Billie dropping her head back in dismay, “And you did say that Billie was basically an athlete”.

Billie’s head snaps back up and she looks at Glen in alarm, “An athlete? On what planet?”.

Keith drops his head back and laughs, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” he says holding his hands up in surrender, “But he did say you work out quite a bit, so I’ve put together a team challenge for you both”.

Keith turns to make his way over to the squat rack, motioning for Billie and Glen to follow. As soon as his back is turned, Billie punches Glen’s arm playfully.

“You have definitely talked me up way too much”

Glen grins as he looks down at her, winking mischievously. “No such thing darlin’”.

Billie grins and rolls her eyes adorably, Glen taking her hand and pulling her until they’re both standing in front of Keith again.

“So, we’re going to do a bit of a circuit challenge. It will be a mix of strength and cardio, but you’ll need to work together to get through it” Keith says, pointing at various equipment around the room. “There will be ten stations, and at each one there will be a rep target which you can divide up between you, so you can sub in and out as you need”.

Glen reaches up to stretch his arms above his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into a sly grin as he looks over at Billie’s wide eyes.

“For example, battle ropes. There will be four hundred reps. Billie you could do one hundred, then Glen does a hundred, and repeat until you get to four hundred. Ideally, the goal is to do the entire circuit in under fifty minutes”.

Billie exhales loudly. “Have you done this exact circuit with people before?”

Keith nods. “The record is forty-six minutes”.

Glen bends his left leg behind him, holding his ankle so he’s stretching out his thigh, glancing down at Billie and back to Keith. He scoffs out loud.

“Forty-six minutes? Easy”.

The look of alarm is back on Billie’s face, though this time she’s looking at Glen like he’s insane. 

Glen can’t help but chuckle at her expression.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

He grins down at her, loving the way she smiles back at him. 

“You said unconventional, remember?”

Billie shakes her head. “I think I’m starting to regret saying that”.

Glen laughs, and they both turn back to Keith.

“So, the key is to know your strengths, and what exercises you’re good or not so good at”.

Billie looks up at Glen, tilting her head playfully.  

“Surely there are no exercise that you’re not good at”.

Glen opens his mouth to speak but Keith beats him to it. “Maybe ask that again when we get to the core exercises”.

Glen pulls a face and both Billie and Keith laugh.

“Alright then” Keith announces, clapping his hands together and looking back at Glen and Billie. “We ready?”

---

Forty-five and a half minutes later, Glen and Billie collapse on the floor on their backs, panting and breathless, and covered in sweat.

Glen feels like his chest is going to explode.

He knows it has nothing to do with the workout he’s just done that has his heart rate hammering at marathon race levels, and everything to do with the stunning, sweaty, sexy girl lying panting next to him right now.

Doing that workout with her was like forty-five and a half minutes of foreplay.  He’d never been so simultaneously impressed and turned on in his life. 

Watching Billie move and jump and squat and press had Glen thinking all kinds of things, things he definitely shouldn’t have been thinking while doing a workout in the gym. He couldn’t help but stare as he did his own exercises, frequently losing count of his own reps, his eyes dragging over her back, her legs, her ass. He was totally enamoured by her, by how strong and fucking sexy she looked, even now as she lay on her back, her chest heaving, breathless from the finishing the fifty burpees they were both determined to get done before the timer ticked over to forty-six minutes.

Glen turns to look over at Billie, his eyes running over her face, her lips parted as she sucks in breaths, her cheeks flushed and covered by a glowy sheen of sweat. He swears she’s never looked more sexy than she has in that moment, and all of a sudden he can’t help but imagine what she'd look like after another kind of cardio that has nothing to do with the gym. 

And nothing to do with clothes.

“That” Billie pauses, sucking in a breath and exhaling loudly, “Was not the way I thought my Sunday would go”

“Probably not the way you thought this date was going to go either” Glen retorts, watching as Billie finally turns to look at him beside her.

She grins at him, that same gorgeous, breathtaking grin, her beautiful eyes sparkling, and it takes everything Glen has not to roll over and kiss her right there in the middle of the gym.

“You guys killed it. Broke the record and everything” Keith says suddenly, standing over the two of them and clapping his hands. “Glen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work that hard before. But I guess you had some extra motivation this time”

Glen chuckles and Billie laughs, but it sounds strained through their panting breaths.

“And Billie, that was pretty incredible. You smashed it out of the park, awesome stuff”

“Thanks Keith” Billie breathes, still panting, offering a weak thumbs up before dropping her hand back down to the ground dramatically.

Keith laughs. “You’re welcome”.

They talk for a few more minutes before Keith announces that he has to run to see another client, Keith bending down to shake both of their hands before waving and walking out of the gym. 

Billie sits up and leans back on her hands, her legs still outstretched in front of her. Glen is still lying on his back beside her, dabbing his face with his sweat towel.

“Glen, that was fucked”

Glen tips his head back and laughs, dropping the towel back to the floor. “But you killed it”.

“I think it killed me” Billie replies exasperated, dropping head back and looking up at the ceiling, “I am going to be so sore tomorrow”.

Glen chuckles and moves to sit up from the floor, his sweaty skin sticking to the floor beneath him.

“I really need a shower”.

“That makes two of us” Billie laughs, “But I don’t think I can stand up”.

Glen laughs, letting out a groan of effort as he hauls himself upright and stands. He reaches down for Billie’s hand and pulls her up, unable to stop his eyes from flickering to boobs in the tight white tank she’s wearing.

God.

“I also need food” Billie announces, taking a long sip from her water bottle and smoothing back her sweaty hair,  “I’m suddenly starving”.

Glen nods in agreement. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a bite after this?” he asks, eyes searching her face as he looks down at her, “If you still have the day free of course”.

Billie’s lips part into a smile, and Glen can’t help the way his own smile grows. 

“My day is totally empty”

“Oh really?” Glen inquires, one eyebrow raised, “Does that mean I can steal you for dinner too?”.

Billie laughs, shrugging her shoulders adorably, “If you don’t get sick of me before then, sure”.

Glen shakes his head and reaches out to touch Billie’s arm, flashing her his most charming grin and loving the way she looks back at him in that moment. 

“I’m not sure that's actually possible Billie”.

Billie smiles, and Glen can’t tell if her cheeks flushing is from their workout or from his comment.

They walk over to their bags, Glen bending and handing Billie hers before bending to pick up his own. 

“Did you want to shower here? Or head home and meet up again?”

Billie shakes her head and holds out her hand, “I brought a change of clothes like you said, I’m happy to shower here. But it’s up to you?”

“No no, here’s good” Glen says, dabbing at his face again with his towel, “You should see the bathrooms here. They're pretty fuckin’ amazing”. 

They walk towards the elevator and step in when the doors open, Billie’s perfume filling his nose as she brushes past. Glen presses the button for level 12, the two standing in comfortable silence as the doors close and they move up the building. 

The elevator dings and the doors open up to the reveal the luxury spa, shower and sauna level, Glen letting Billie step out in front of him.

“The female bathrooms are that way” Glen says, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, “I’ll meet you back out here?”

Billie nods, looking over in the direction of the bathrooms and back up at Glen with a soft smile.

“See you in a bit”.

---

Billie

This shower is better than the one at Billie’s house. No actually, it's the best shower she's ever used. At the gym of all places. 

It's all dark moody tile and black furnishings, the rainfall shower head providing the most amazing water pressure on her already aching muscles. Not to mention the luxury skin care products that are just free to use.

She’s in shower heaven. 

Or she would be, if Glen was in there with her.

Billie tips her head back and lets the warm water cascade over her, unable to think of little else except Glen. 

The way his muscles had rippled beneath his skin as he’d pulled himself up on the chin up bar, the way his biceps had flexed and moved as he’d picked up each dumbbell. Billie had barely been able to concentrate on her own exercises, not when Glen was looking like that, and certainly not when he was looking at her the way he had been. It was like he wanted to devour her - and if they hadn't been in public, she probably would have let him. 

Right there in the middle of the gym floor.

Their workout has left her feeling all wound up in more ways than one, like forty five minutes of insane heated foreplay without a finish line. If she were at home, she’d probably play with herself. 

She thinks about Glen in the shower, thinking about how badly she wants to have him pressed up naked against her, to feel his thick arms around her frame, his lips on her skin. 

Fuck.

What was this man doing to her?

Forty eight hours of knowing the guy and she's already desperate for him.

She wonders idly if he’s thinking about her the same way she is right now, suddenly remembering that he’s probably waiting for her outside and that she should get on with it. She exhales heavily through her nose and rinses the last of the soap suds from her skin, letting herself enjoy the shower for thirty more seconds before she turns off the tap.

Billie steps out of the shower and dries herself with the fluffiest white towel she’s ever used, changing into a pair of light blue mom jeans and a loose white button up shirt. She looks back at her reflection in the giant mirror of the luxury bathroom, tucking the front of her shirt loosely into the waist of her jeans and buttoning it just enough that it teases just a hint of cleavage.

She reapplies her makeup keeping it glowy and natural, using the gym’s very expensive hair dryer and blow waving her hair just enough that it’s tameable. She pulls her hair back into a loose braid leaving out a few face framing pieces, spritzing her favourite peachy perfume onto her neck and wrists. She steps back and looks over her reflection once more, deciding she’s happy with her look, packing up her things and walking out of the bathroom.

Billie does a double take when she walks out to find Glen sitting waiting for her on one of the cream leather lounges near the elevator, looking somehow even more handsome than he had earlier. 

He’s now dressed in a cream henley shirt and brown trousers, a pair of brown leather boots on his feet. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough that she can see the beginnings of his dark chest hair, his hair still damp from the shower and falling messily but somehow still perfectly.

As if he wasn’t handsome enough just looking like that, Billie feels her breath catch when he looks up and sees her, his lips parting in an utterly gorgeous smile.

Billie tries not to notice the way her body feels as his eyes run over every inch of her, following her hips as she walks towards him.

“You look gorgeous”.

Billie smiles. “See, I was just thinking that about you”.

Glen laughs and stands up in front of her, pressing the button for the elevator and holding open the door for her as they walk in. 

“Were you feeling anything particular for lunch?” he says looking down at her, Billie standing close enough to smell his delicious aftershave and fighting the urge to reply with ‘Besides you?’.

“I’m not fussy”.

Glen nods. “Good, I know just the place”.

---

Glen

“Were you really?” Billie asks, shaking her head in exasperation, “No way, I’ve seen that movie a thousand times, I’d have recognised you”

Glen laughs and nods his head, putting his hand on his heart to emphasize that he’s telling the truth,  “I swear I am. I’m in the stock exchange scene”. 

Billie’s brow furrows, like she’s replaying the scene in her head, and Glen chuckles when she reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone. 

“No way. I have to look this up”.

They’d just had lunch - they’d gotten sandwiches at one of Glen’s favourite spots near the Santa Monica beach. It was a little hole in the wall place with an outdoor courtyard type area at the back, and best of all, it wasn’t too well known about. On this sunny Sunday afternoon, it was the perfect choice.

He and Billie are sitting side by side in a wooden booth together, having just finished their food. They’d been there nearly three hours now, the conversation and laughs between them flowing effortlessly. It’s only been two days, and yet somehow Glen feels like he’s known Billie for months. 

They’d been talking about music choices when they exercised, Billie revealing that she actually liked to listen to movie scores when she ran - namely, superhero movie scores, saying that they made her feel motivated and pumped to keep going. That had brought them to talking about The Dark Knight Rises, at which point Glen had laughed and told her that he was actually in that movie.

He keeps his eyes on her face as she types on her phone, looking over her glowy skin and dark lashes, her full lips that make him want to kiss her for hours.

He hears the beginnings of a video play, the familiar menacing voice of Tom Hardy’s Bane character, watching as Billie’s eyes suddenly light up, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Oh my God it is you!” she exclaims adorably, looking up at Glen and then back at her screen still in disbelief, “How have I not noticed that before? How old are you there? You look like a baby”.

Glen laughs and takes a sip of his soda bottle, tapping his fingers against the plastic. 

“Twenty-something---, twenty-four, I think?” he says just as he hears Bane smash his character’s head into a computer.

“You know, I actually got a real concussion during that take. Tom got a bit too into his character and instead of just tapping me on the head like he was supposed to, he actually slammed my head down. Had to go see a medic and everything”

Billie’s eyes widen in shock for the second time, a soft laugh of surprise slipping from her lips. “Oh my god, really?”.

He nods and they both laugh, Glen looking over Billie as she shifts in her seat to better face him.

The afternoon sun is warm and Glen has since shed his jacket, his gaze hidden behind his sleek sunglasses. He takes advantage of that fact, savouring every moment of his eyes on Billie’s available skin, the edge of a pale blue bra peeking out from the dip of her shirt from this new angle.

He tries not to notice the way one of her denim covered thighs is now pressed against his, or the way one side of her white shirt has slipped down to expose her golden collarbone. He finds his imagination wondering what her skin would taste like on his tongue, how it would feel beneath his lips if he kissed along it.

Billie lifts her hand to look down at her watch and back up at Glen.

“You need to go?”. 

“No no, just thinking about Nugget”.

“If you want to go home and check on him it’s okay Billie”

“I want to” she says, her voice trailing off into a pause, “But, I also don’t want to leave”.

Glen smiles back at her, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“Well, how about this then?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through his now dry hair, “You go home and grab Nugget, and then the two of you come to mine a little later for dinner?”

Billie tilts her head as looks at him, the corner of her mouth tugging into a smile, “Oh that is incredibly tempting”.

He grins and leans in towards her, loving the way her gorgeous hazel eyes are looking back at him. 

“Anything I can do to make it even more so?”

Billie ponders for a moment, her eyes still on his, her tongue sliding out to wet her pink lips.

“Well, for starters, keep smiling at me like that” Billie says, leaning her elbow on the table between them and resting her cheek on her hand, “Do you have any idea how handsome you are? Like, it's almost unfair how attractive you are”.

Glen chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his throat.

“I’ve been thinking that same thought about you since the moment I met you at Rufus, Billie”.

“Oh really? You think I’m handsome?” Billie teases, a laugh bubbling up in her throat.

Glen only grins, reaching up to brush a loose hair from her face, swearing he sees her suck in a silent breath.

“Actually you know what” Billie breathes, her voice almost a whisper, “I think there is something you can do to tempt me more so”.

Glen raises a curious eyebrow, acutely aware of how close his face now is to hers.

“What’s that darlin?”

Billie exhales quietly, her perfect lips stretching into a soft, sexy smile.

“Kiss me”.

Glen needs no instruction after that.

He tilts Billie’s chin with his finger and angles her face to his, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers.

---

Previous Chapter

TAG LIST:

@wickedtactics @auntiegigi @friedchips94 @maeleelee @jessicab1991 @bellaireland1981 @queenslandlover-93 @itsjustkhaos @kneelforloki @djs8891 @lovemesomevesey @entertainmentgirl80 @buckysteveloki-me @stankface

[seoktized]

you can't claims to be a fan or a briize while you boycotting their works. You literally a creator too are you not?

don't you know how it feels when no one read your works or giving feedback?

why would you encouraging others to do what you did?

why do the rest of boys needs to suffers because of one person's mistake?

and i know probably they all did it as well, the smoking and dating but they don't expose themselves.

Idk why would you take a picture of you smoking when you know it's not allowed at your company and now the rest of the boys had to burden the pain.

Seriously stop encouraging others to do that, cause i know karma exist and one day you would know what it's like when your works has no reader and feedbacks.

usually i’d delete stuff like this but erm

you see, i don’t understand why people like you exist. i assume you’re an ot6. i can call myself a fan of riize because i love and care for ALL of riize. which you cannot say the same because you’re in my tell box complaining about seunghans mistakes.

seunghan did NOT expose himself. HE was exposed.

why is it that it’s fine for the others to smoke and date? if they were to get exposed would you unstan them? and wouldn’t that make you.. not a fan? how would you feel if you spent years training just to be put on hiatus for a mistake. you act as if seunghan is perfect.

the rest of the boys are suffering because of their COMPANY. boycotting riize means boycotting SM. if it was not allowed at the company, why were there MULTIPLE members of a different group pictured smoking outside? why is seunghans situation any different?

i will continue to encourage a boycott, i don’t care if people don’t read my works. all i care is if seunghan is returned to riize. i’m doing all of this for seunghan and seunghan only, so if you have a problem with it PLEASE do me a favor and block me.

riize is 7.

find the boycott list here <3

apologies for clogging the tags !!

[watchtowerindistress]

(how) to hunt a hunter - sergei kravinoff x fem!reader

Summary: Kraven the Hunter was a myth equal to the Boogeyman. So the prestigious offer to hunt the legendary hunter sounded insane yet like a blast. Who were you as a Black Widow to say ‘no’ to that?

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: blood, violence, sexual tension, language, consumption of alcohol

Author’s note: Don’t judge me for inserting another Black Widow character again. 🤣 I thought it’d be fun to not go the typical route of Sergei hunting you, but you hunting him. Seriously, what is up with this trope, guys? I’m getting out of my hiatus which is rough and I want to just create something fun and not like a full-blown series. I apologize, I’m better with witty dialogue than fighting scenes, I’m terribly sorry. 😅

If you followed my we all have our secrets series, there’s a character who gets a slightly more prominent role in this one-shot than the mere mention. You know, I’m getting Morbius vibes from the trailer, but I guess it’s going be fun? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Read me on AO3

You wiped the damp layer off the mirror and winced at what you saw.

Your battered reflection was staring back at you. You shook your head and even that movement of your wet hair stroking the side of your neck irritated the scrapes and bruises even further.

Needing to breathe through the pain, you exhaled through your mouth, leaning forward on your elbows against the edges of the wash basin. 

Wrath was burning in your eyes when you glared at your reflection. The broken blood vessel of your eye was a sore reminder of the absolute failure of a mission.

The blue eyes of Sergei Kravinoff shone on the display of your laptop to reveal your target. You hummed before gazing through the binoculars on the roof of the hotel you to keep track of the infamous Kraven.

Killing him would certainly be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who could even say that about themselves?

Your phone alerted you to a new call coming in. Almost casually you took it without glancing at the screen. Your eyes were glued to the outside surroundings.

“Kind of in the middle of something,” you said with a bored voice.

“So it was you who took the assignment?”

You sighed. Your wrist almost dropped the field glass at hearing Talia’s voice.

“Did I take it away from you?”

A mirthful chuckle reverberated through the loud speaker. “No, I’m not that desperate to face the Hunter.”

Your eyes glanced sideways at that tidbit of information. “Is that fear? Didn’t know that the infamous White Widow was afraid of anything.”

“Not fear. Just a boring survival instinct.”

A pause lingered in the air.

“What is it for you? The prestige? Something fun?”

“Maybe I like a challenge.” 

Talia’s voice turned severe to warn you of the danger. “Trust me on this. This man is no joke. He’s going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

Talia exhaled. “I knew his father. That family isn’t something to be trifled with. But no, if I want to rupture my lung, I’d rather do it on my own terms. But I also know I can’t stop you if you set your mind to something. All I can offer you are my contacts on sight, wherever you are.”

“No, thank you.” You chuckled. “And don’t pretend like you don’t even know where I am.”

“What can I say? I can’t reveal all my secrets. Stubborn to a fault,” Talia grumbled under her breath. “But I didn’t tell you the whole truth. About Kraven. He’s more animal than man. An absolute savage, mark my words, dushka.” [darling]

“Warning accepted. And to answer your question. It’s a challenge. That’s why I’m doing it.”

“He’d be more than just a challenge.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The unpredictability of this target revealed itself soon enough when Kravinoff didn’t seem to have a single pattern. It was confounding. People had patterns to orient themselves in their daily lives.

You didn’t understand it.

So, the fact that he entered a hotel bar raised your suspicions even more. It wasn’t your ideal preference with the amount of exit strategies the location offered. With wary eyes, you strolled towards the bar, instantly recognizing the broad shoulders clothed in a white dress shirt.

You sighed. This was truly bad. But it wouldn’t be the first time your cover was blown before the job could even start. A curious glance towards the amount of glasses behind the barkeeper made you smirk though.

Kravinoff slightly turned his head the closer you got before you finally sat on the stool, without any space separating you two. If the target was aware of the oncoming hit, then it didn’t matter keeping up pretences.

He pulled the amber-filled tumbler to his lips. “You want to have a drink before we get started? It’s on me.” If the file didn’t give it away before, the accent certainly revealed his Russian heritage.

“Sure. I love to celebrate.” You pointed a finger in the air and motioned for the barkeeper with a “I’ll have what he’s having, neat. Keep the bottle.”

Kravinoff snorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s funny. Already certain of your victory?”

You watched the barkeeper pour two fingers into your glass before he wandered away. “Just enjoying myself during work.” You sipped a bit and instantly hummed from the smoky taste in your mouth.

Kravinoff raised an eyebrow. “You like?”

You shrugged. “You seem to have taste when it comes to certain refreshments.”

The man grunted at your sarcastic dig which satisfied you if you couldn’t use the moment of surprise to your advantage.

Kravinoff twirled his glass between his fingers. “Who sent you?” he inquired throatily.

“What? No foreplay?”

He slowly turned in his seat until his legs were spread and he was facing you head-on. His eyes were burning with intensity. In any other situation you would have deemed him beautiful in a gruff way. Kravinoff remained sullen and quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You rolled your eyes, knocking back your drink. “You’re no fun. Perhaps I intend to play with my prey before I have to kill it.”

His mouth twisted into a sinister smirk. “You think I’m your prey?” The last word sounded like he tasted something nasty on his tongue. 

“Don’t insult me, pet.”

You furrowed your brows at the mention of that so-called term of endearment.

Kravinoff lazily laced his fingers together. “So, what are you? Regular mercenary? HYDRA agent? Talon?”

“Widow.”

Kravinoff tilted his head at that one word in intrigue. “Hmm. It’s an honor-”

Something akin to pride or satisfaction lingered in your stomach.

“-to kill you.”

You clenched your jaw at the self-assurance in his voice. “Well, in that case…” You dared to steal Kravinoff’s drink, just to one-up him for that arrogance of his.

“… give it your best shot, sweetheart.”

Before he could even attack you, you hit his larynx with the side of your hand.

Kravinoff omitted a pained grunt, shielding his throat. He jumped from his chair.

You broke his tumbler on the counter, slashing Kravinoff’s neck.

With an animalistic growl and burning eyes, he seized your neck, smashing your face against the counter. Something like a creak resounded underneath you with the force.

A whimper left your lips. You felt something sharp on your temple.

In one swift move, Kravinoff slid your head along the counter. Something wet trickled down the side of your face. You hissed at the sensation of glass shards against your skin.

You kneed the back of his knee, managing to subdue him and jump him until your legs wound around his neck, making him groan with your choking move.

Your balance shifted as Kravinoff tried to shake you off by grabbing your hips. Trying to take him by surprise and to throw him off his game, you jabbed your fingers into his eyeballs.

With a snarl, he rushed forward against the counter. You groaned in pain at the hardwood.

God, you were starting to hate this assignment.

You were starting to get used to Kravinoff’s burning eyes branding holes into you instead.

“Stop choking me.” There was something horrifying yet fascinating about his ocean blue eyes switching into amber-colored ones. The kind that hypnotized you and rendered you frozen.

“Kinda defeats the purpose of killing you,” you hissed as a retort. Although it certainly delighted you at seeing Kravinoff’s face getting red.

Almost in keeping you at suspense, he slowly yanked out a hunting knife from behind his back and making you grimace in return. There was something about his eyes that revealed what he wasn’t saying.

Seeing no way out of this without getting utterly mutilated by this hunter, you stretched out your arm behind you and grabbed a broken glass. You would learn to fight another day.

Kravinoff winced and eyed his shin darkly.

Without losing any time for him to fight back in retaliation, you pushed against his chest with your feet, making him fall back.

Knowing that the moment he would look up, you had already run.

“I heard you had an eventful day yesterday.”

The humorous statement drew a weary sigh from your lips. Your fingers clenched around the steering wheel at the mere reminder of the mission. Although you didn’t need it since there was nothing that could make you forget with every glance in the mirror or every movement of your muscles.

You inhaled deeply. “You know, it’s funny, when you were dead, the phone remained silent. Now I can’t get rid off you.”

“Allegedly dead. And don’t pretend. You crave our little talks.”

“You here to gloat?”

“Only when it’s warranted. I thought I told you he was dangerous. That’s on you—underestimating a man like him.”

You scoffed in derision. A man like him. “You’re probably right. At least I survived. Who else can say that?”

Your speaker phone remained silent.

You held your breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Kraven has a tendency to kill the people he sets his mind to. So the fact that you’re still alive worries me. He didn’t mention his death list, did he?”

Something moved uncomfortably in your stomach at the concept of an assassin following a list. You licked your lips, remembering how his eyes turned golden. A supernatural hunter trying to kill you wasn’t on your to-do list.

You parked your car in the garage of your safe house before you sped up the stairs.

“No, although there wasn’t a lot of time for talking, if you know what I mean.” You felt the civil conversation at the beginning would make the White Widow only insinuate how you had let your guard down, but you would disagree.

“I’m just saying, Kraven can find anyone, so you better be on your guard.”

A groan left your lips when you inspected the lock on your door, letting your head fall forward. “This isn’t happening,” you muttered in disbelief under your breath. “Got to run,” you called out.

“Don’t die,” Talia sang as a goodbye and half a reminder before hanging up.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, thanks for the warning,” you grumbled to yourself before you inhaled through your nose in preparation. With your gun placed at the back of your belt and your Widow Bites switched on. Silently, you opened the door and pointed your wrist to the floor. Nothing, so far.

“I’m curious, how would you like to die?” you hollered through the apartment. “Any preferences? I should have asked the last time.” You studiously searched every room, knowing he was in here somewhere.

“How considerate,” Kraven’s sarcastic reply came closer than expected. “Not here to kill you.”

You scoffed loudly. “Yes, right. I’ll believe that when I see it,” you whispered.

Finally, you found him. With his back turned towards you and his arms behind his back, taking in his surroundings. You didn’t trust it one bit that someone like him would be vulnerable like that. Kraven’s figure in the kitchen almost made it seem to small with his dominating presence taking up all of the space. You reluctantly applauded that gall of his for invading your space like that and to make a surprise attack like that.

“You changed your shirt,” you observed quietly, taking in his casual shirt, despite there not being anything casual about him. “The other one too bloody for you?”

Humor was laced in his voice as he slowly turned around, sending you a daring glance. “Observant little spider. Just want to talk.”

The guffawing sound coming out of your throat awkwardly switched to a cough. “Sorry, that—I don’t know where that came from.”

“I’m curious what other sounds I can elicit from those lips.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at the blatant flirting. If that could be considered flirting since it felt more like a hit from a sledgehammer. Very direct and hard to get away from. Typical Russian.

You clenched your hand behind your back. Talia couldn’t fault you for staying on your guard. “And I’m wondering about your noises when I do this-”

You pointed your wrist at him, watching in satisfaction at the electric jolt shooting through his chest. Kraven groaned in pain before sending you a dark glare at your own insolence.

“I was trying to have a normal conversation. You know, trying something new. You make this really hard though.”

You frowned at his ability to talk or even standing upright as you sauntered over to a close cabinet. With calm movements, you attached a silencer to your gun, not needing any more unwanted guests.

“I’m not really interested in talking after our last conversation, you know-”

Your wind was knocked out of you when something pushed into you, making you crash to the floor. You gasped when the back of your head bumped against the wooden floor. Shaking your head, you sent him a thunderous expression. “Now that’s my kind of conversation,” you hissed before you swung your thighs around his neck, squeezing with all your might.

Kraven grunted, closing his eyes. With sudden movements, he stood up and the next thing you knew was that he had pushed you against the wall, making you groan from the sudden impact.

Between your legs, you felt him puff out in breaths, “You know, not that I’m complaining, but I think I’m starting to get used to that.”

His flirty tone of voice made you look down in reluctance to discover him humming contently between your thighs. Spite made you squeeze even tighter and punch against his shoulders with your elbows.

“Stop with your pointy elbows,” Kraven hissed in warning.

“Stop invading my safe house, Kraven svolotsch!” [scumbag]

Your eyes widened when Kraven moved backwards and threw you onto your back as you both fell to the floor. He seemed to have a thing for knocking the wind out of you.

“What did you just call me?” he exhaled next to you.

“You heard me,” you whispered in return, trying to catch your breath.

“You know, I do love our conversations,” Kraven murmured reverently.

“What do you want?” you finally asked in disappointment.

“Now, you want to talk?”

“Now I want you out,” you exhaled tiredly.

“You wound me, pet.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Kraven sighed, slowly sitting up. “Who paid you?”

You opened your eyes, uncertain about his intentions. “Then you’ll kill me?”

Kraven raised his eyebrows, almost like he couldn’t believe you even uttering those words to him. “One less Spider in this world would be a pity. Tell me their name and I’ll reimburse you for your troubles. This, I promise you.”

You inhaled deeply, not knowing if Kraven was the kind to keep his oaths. “Or what?”

“These people are going to kill you if you don't deliver, unless you’re interested in a third run?” Kraven raised his eyebrows in challenge. Probably for some reason sharing the same opinion as you.

“Maybe I haven’t decided yet,” you teased as you leaned on your arm while your hand reached for his thigh which sustained the injury during your last altercation.

Kraven narrowed his eyes with his tilting head in consideration. “Uh, what are you doing?” he whispered hoarsely.

You clenched your jaw. Something wasn’t right, you thought, as you let your fingernails stubbornly search for the cut on his leg.

Kraven swallowed before he cleared his throat. “Why are you stroking my leg? Is this some sort of Soviet seduction technique I didn’t know about?”

There wasn’t an injury. Your heart was racing in your chest at the implication of it.

“What are you?”

Silence enveloped you two. Kraven stared at you in contemplation. “Tit for tat, Spider.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes and stood up to stretch your legs. “I don’t know their name. It didn’t matter. He only called himself the Benefactor.”

“Mysterious,” Kraven grumbled behind you.

“Drink?”

“Without poison, if it’s possible.”

You turned your body to reveal the fakest smile you could muster for him. “Only for you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you treat me too well,” Kraven purred while cocking his head. “So, how does he contact you?”

“Encrypted connection via messaging server.” You offered a shot of vodka for him to take.

“Tell him to meet.” Pushing the brown locks away from his face, he threw back his drink.

“Well,…” You mulled over his offer. “…there’s only one choice to make. How do you feel about dying?” you inquired, putting the glass to your lips.

You tapped your fingers against arm, waiting for the stop of the descent of the cargo elevator. All the while ignoring the stares of two other henchmen standing next to you.

Someone cleared their throat. “Are you like the real deal?”

You pursed your lips at the awkwardness of it all, being in the lair of the so-called Benefactor and being surrounded by fanboys. It was strange. Usually, you were used to people being terrified of your past. Like they couldn’t fathom the possibility of an assassin walking among them. Or that they’d rather didn’t see you being part of society.

“No, I just like dressing up,” you replied dryly, sending them a smirk over your shoulder. “You want me to turn on my batons?”

“Can we take a selfie?”

You considered that for a few seconds before shrugging. “Sure. You want to get the body bag too?”

“Is there really a body in there?”

“What can I say? Needed something large in size to fit the dude.”

Both seemed speechless for a second and made up their minds. “Neat. Come on, huddle together.”

You tilted your head, making a peace sign with your fingers before the camera made the sound of a snapshot. “Nice.”

“Thanks so much.”

You cleared your throat. “My pleasure. Until next time, fellas.” Your fingers made a saluting sign before the doors opened to signal your destination. “Got to deliver something,” you muttered before you wandered down the hallways of the complex.

You had to hand it to those villains. They certainly had the extravagant taste for the finer things in life such as a hidden lair for your base of operations. You turned the corner when the HQ became visible down a set of stairs. Judging by the set of computers and a few people strolling around, tending to their tasks.

In the center of the base a man stood. There was something about him that compelled your vigilance. You trusted your deepest instincts that told you that you were dealing with the Benefactor of all people.

You did a double-take towards the set of stairs, mumbling to yourself, “Huh, that’s a lot of stairs.”

Almost like your voice carried over to him, the man turned around, staring right at you. “Welcome. It’s an honor to be in the presence of a Black Widow.”

Your body tensed before you took a deep breath while carrying the body bag down the stairs, being mindful of every thunk as you descended.

“If you say so.” Your curious gaze met his. There was something about him that felt familiar. The man appeared in his late 60’s and wore an aviator jacket with the lapel lined with fur. “Have we met before?”

The Benefactor cleared his throat. “I don’t think so. Is that the package?”

You narrowed your eyes at the dismissal. “Depends. Are you the Benefactor?”

He smirked when he lowered his head. “Sometimes.”

You placed your hands on your waist, dropping the body bag fully to the floor. “Very cloak and dagger,” you mused. “And to answer to your question: no. I just carry my accessories in there. Really practical if you know what I mean.”

The staring between the Benefactor and you lingered far longer than you expected it would.

Then he smiled widely.

“You’re funny.”

“I haven’t been called that before,” you surmised before you dragged the bag closer to him and pulled down the zipper until it ended around his middle.

The Benefactor hummed curiously and leaned forward until he could really see him. “Hmmm, he looks really fresh,” he replied as an observation.

What?

“I’m sorry?”

“The injuries on his face, I mean. There were stories about him, you know. Is it true that he can regenerate?”

Was he trying to mount him on a wall, or something? Or what was it about this talk of admiration?

Your gaze wandered around in scepticism at this strange diversion. “What kind of supervillain are you?” you asked with a hoarse voice.

The Benefactor chuckled under his breath. “I wouldn’t call myself super, not yet. But I have plans.”

“Hmm, don’t we all.”

He clapped his hands together, like you had just rejuvenated his spirits. “How hard was it to kill him?”

You stared at him calmly, knowing what was about to happen. “I think you know the answer to that,” you whispered ominously.

“Yes, I think I do.” Something glimmered in his eyes which gave you the incentive to turn on your Batons with their red glare.

Kraven’s eyes opened.

Ever so dramatic, you thought, as you inwardly rolled your eyes.

You didn’t gave away any warning before you doused the whole facility into complete darkness. There were gasps around you from the sudden blackout. Instead you turned off your Batons and switched over to your blades.

Something growled in the dark before you saw those golden eyes, like some sort of harbinger.

“You wanted me. Now here I am,” Kraven hissed menacingly.

“There’s no need for violence. I just wanted to see what would happen.”

“Okay,” you exhaled loudly. “Now watch this happen,” you promised sinisterly and threw the first blade.

Someone shrieked in shock when the knife pierced their leg. “Oh my—Goddammit!”

“Finish this, Kraven. I’m starving.”

You heard something powering up. With every second passing, a mechanical sound echoed in the air before something set into place. You turned your head just when night vision goggles jerkily snapped in your direction.

You suppressed a shiver and opted for the (more) silent tactic, swinging the baton around before shooting electricity through it at the last second.

Someone grunted before they fell to the floor.

“We don’t have all day, by the way. What’s taking so long?” you hollered and jerked back when the thrusters of an exo-suit flew past. “What the hell?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Kraven exhaled, hovering in the air, somewhere near the ceiling. “You deal with your henchmen and I’ll take care of this one.”

The alarm deafened your ears before red lights pulsed rhythmically into the dark, giving you the opportunity to watch—wait a second—the Vulture pressing Kraven against the wall.

“Are you sure?”

“Is this concern I’m hearing?” Kraven growled inhumanly before wrestling against like a rabid animal, tearing with all his might against one of the wings.

“If you want to fight the Vulture, be my guest.” You turned your head and watched in suspension as a new group of henchmen ran inside.

“Oh hey, fanboys!” you called out, waving a hand in greeting at the familiar faces.

They looked uncertainly at each other before one whispered to the other, “I don’t want to fight the Black Widow.”

“If it’s any consolation, if Kraven hadn’t taken so long, we would’ve been out of here already, so…” You twirled your batons in the air. “I’m not really giving you a choice, fellas.”

~Kraven POV~

Kraven was done with this bird man. He didn't mind heights, but this Vulture was messing with his good nature. The thruster’s engine made spluttering noises the longer his fingers viciously tore at it.

“This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

Kraven sneered at the pilot. “Tell that to me a few days ago when you tried to have me killed. Sending a Widow after me? Seems pretty clear to me,” he hissed with venom in his voice.

“Let go of the wing and we’ll talk.”

“The time for conversations is over, ptashka.” Feeling the itching in his fingers, he yanked out his hunting knife, ready to strike and not caring that they would fall several meters to the ground. [birdie]

“Okay, fine.”

Kraven frowned in anger when he was instead pushed, making him land on all fours.

Vulture’s landing was a bit inept, with the wing's engine sputtering. His arms were raised.

“Cease fire for now?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Kraven exhaled unevenly, feeling wrath still bubbling under the surface, sending you an expression of aggravation over his shoulder. Hoping you would understand not to cross Vulture for now without speaking.

“Can’t make any promises for her though,” Kraven mentioned casually while pointing towards you, like he was discussing the weather.

Thankfully, you fastened your batons at your back again.

“It was an invitation,” Vulture explained vaguely. “A test if you will. To join our circle.”

“Recruitment?” Kraven was getting bored already - this wasn’t really tickling his fancy. He raised an eyebrow with a sneer. “Not interested in joining anyone’s club. I have my own agenda to follow. I'm not bending towards anyone’s rules.”

“We respect your … hunts if you will.”

“We?”

“A collection of people who have been wronged. Like-minded people such as yourself. We could use someone like you who loves the thrill of the hunt. Because that’s what you do, right? You absolutely live for it. To hunt your prey until it grows tired.”

Kraven hummed noncommittally. Not sure yet of this secret club. But this bird man certainly could appeal to his baser nature. “I’ve reached a decision.”

Vulture tilted his head in fascination, but didn’t reveal his eyes behind those goggles.

“I won’t kill you … yet. For drawing me out like that. But you have aggravated me with your little games by making me neglect my work.” With every sentence, Kraven took a step forward, needing to drive home that he could kill them for their impertinence. “So, I’m going to take off and then I’ll debate with myself if I should drop by in the future. Be thankful if I don’t.”

He turned away, knowing with absolute clarity that they wouldn’t be stopped.

“Not even curious?” Vulture called from behind him, trying to dangle one last temptation.

“Too busy.”

“Even for a spider?”

Kraven clenched his jaw in agitation as he stopped in his tracks. And there went wrath all over again. His gaze met yours.

And there he thought he wouldn’t have to kill anyone.

Kraven turned his body, unable to stop the clenching of his fists. “Come again?”

“Oh, not this one,” he said, waving a hand at you. “I wouldn’t dare cross a potential asset.”

“Not interested,” you negated with absolute certainty.

Vulture shook his head. “Not interested … too busy.” With careful movements he took off his night vision goggles. “I thought it could interest you to hunt a certain … Spiderman.”

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath​ @ravenmoore14​ @blackmagicwoman

[sorritalasorra]

Blue Lock Boyfriend Bachira Meguru!

HES SUCH A CUTIE I LOVE HIMMMMMM

You two probably met by mere coincidence of running into each other

You apologized for running into him and compliment his soccer skills which confuses him because most people run off from him

You didn’t know then but his heart was beating faster then normal from the warm feeling that had entered his chest, a sensation he rarely felt 🥹

He found himself quickly gravitating towards you and eventually found his way to your heart ❤️

Before Blue Lock

HE WOULD BE SUCH A LOVING BOYFRIEND

YOU GUYS ARE ATTACHED AT THE HIP

Literally worships the ground you walk on 🧎🏽‍♀️

LOVES pda because it announces to everyone you guys are an item 🥹

MATCHING SWEATERS FOR THE WINTER SEASON BECAUSE YALL ARE ADORABLE

Dates everywhere and anywhere because as long as you guys are together he’s on cloud 9 😭

A sucker for cuddles, his favorite kind (even though he loves all cuddles) are when you two are just melted into each other ❤️

Calls you the mushiest pet names he can think of with no shame (POOKIE)

His wallpaper would be a picture of you in a field full of flowers (he thinks you look like a angel) or a picture of you two in matching clothes 🌻

During Blue Lock

Misses you so much and he will tell you that every single time you guys talk 😭

MESSAGES WHENEVER AND WHEREVER HE CAN 🫶🏽

Will rewatch videos and look at pictures of you guys together to make himself feel better but it actually makes him miss you even more 😭

Sends pictures of himself looking sad to show you how much he misses you (pouting pictures)

His teammates know so much about you even your favorites of everything because of how much he talks about you 🥹

Calls you every single night even if it disrupts the sleep of his fellow blue lock participants ☠️

He won’t have any shame calling you late hours into the night…

Definitely got yelled at by Rin to shut his phone off or else he was going to get it 💀

Bachira is very grateful for your support in understanding his dreams and why he went into Blue Lock. It’s very painful to be apart from each other but he knows it’ll all be worth it in the end so he can make you proud. ❤️

Author note: Very sorry for my long hiatus, the past school year was such a toll on me physically and mentally. I’d hit a writers block trying to create new pieces of work in the small free time I had. I’m slowly making my way out of the block and will hopefully post more soon! Thank you for your patience! :)

[jj-5656]

First Impressions With; James Potter (Marauders)

A/N: Holy shit, hello again. Been a damn minute, six month hiatus yet again. First semester of college kicked my ass, but I can’t get this idea out of my head lately. To anyone who reads and even enjoys, please leave a comment. I love any and all feedback. Missed you guys, sorry I was MIA. :)

Summary: The one where you finally confront the egotistical chaser for Gryffindor, and realize things aren’t always as they seem. 

TW: Descriptions of assault, attempted assault, ect. It’s lengthy asf apologies in advance

       James Potter is undoubtedly the most insufferable, pompous, self-absorbed asshole to ever grace Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

You’re sure of it. 

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you grip the chilled glass of firewhisky between Lilly and Marlene. Watching the raven-haired boy amongst his friends in the Gryffindor common room. It’s a fairly relaxed night, you’d save the real partying for the weekends. Though you’d all survived a particularly difficult potions exam, and found it more than enough means to celebrate with a small get-together. There isn't much to worry about when it came to drinking under school-roof. Seeing as your prefect was one of the many students indulging in the nights activities, nursing his own glass along his friends. Remus is a sandy-haired, soft spoken student you’ve come to know through Lily and Marlene. 

It’s a wonder he even gives the rambunctious Potter the time of day, let alone choose to call him a friend. 

“Head boy, can you believe they’ve considered appointing him head boy for next year? James Potter, having authority over even the prefects, what a load of crap.”

“He’s not that bad, he’s actually quite pleasant at times.” You shoot a look to your redheaded best friend, who’d see the good in even the worst of people. 

“Respectfully, Lilly, if I were to maliciously pour this drink onto your lap, you’d forgive me in a millisecond. I don’t necessarily trust your character judgement.”

“Ever the dramatic, y/n. And I’d forgive you because I love you, but not after ‘accidentally’ spilling my drink on you.” She kisses the crown of your head cheekily before grabbing you and Marlene’s empty glasses, seeking to refill them. You wave her affection off despite the blush of your cheeks. 

And then Potter says something that catches your attention almost instantly. 

“Where do you think the lonely bloke is now? Probably in his dorm, moping about like always.” The fellow sixth year seems to have had half a glass too many, sudden passionate disdain for the Slytherin hadn’t been a topic the entire night. 

“You a fan of his, Potter?” You snap from the couch across him, catching the attention of the burly kid and his friends. The alcohol in your system also the cause of such an abrupt remark.

“Sorry?” He asks through a half-hearted laugh, incredulous gaze revealing the intense hazel in his eyes you hadn’t noticed before. 

“Are you a fan, would you like an autograph or something? I only ask because he’s almost all you talk about. And you can’t seem to leave him alone.” Marlene straightens beside you, sharing a confused look with the rest of the boys sat beside James. Who quirks his head at your irritated tone. 

“And you are?” 

“Tired of your bullshit, leave the kid alone.” You’ve honestly been waiting for give the Chaser a piece of your mind since you saw him trip the sullen Slytherin in the library. You hate a bully, and you’d be damned to stand by and watch. Not to mention his incessant pestering of your kind-hearted best friend, who returns to you with full glasses and a stern look pointed your way. You ignore her silent disciplining, too enveloped in your staring match with the boy opposite you. 

“Just a bit of fun, love. Nothing to get upset about.” Sirius, another acquaintance through your girlfriends, attempts to ease the tension. Setting a hand on James’ tensing shoulder. 

“I don’t think he’s having much fun. Seems a bit one sided if you ask me.”

“But we didn’t. Ask you, I mean.” You cock your head, pleasantly surprised at Potter’s wit. Having mistaken him for the dumb on the spot type.

Maybe it’s not your business, maybe your actions are making an enemy for no reason. But you know the likes of James Potter.Coming from a wealthy, well-known wizard family. And Snape, who was a half-blood, and not a wealthy one at that. At least, you’d assumed from his hand-me-down robes and unkept clothes on the train your first year at Hogwarts. He’d confided in Lily a couple times, and from what you could understand he was simply a quiet boy who was terribly misunderstood. Being a half-blood yourself, you’d fallen victim to some snotty comments from other students. And if Potter’s quarrel with the boy was due to his status and lack of pure-blood, you wouldn’t dare let him get away with it. 

“Maybe we should head up to the dorm-” Marlene starts before James interjects. 

“Nonsense, we were just leaving. Have a wonderful rest of your night Marlene, Lills, and-” He pauses, eyes narrowing in silent challenge. 

“Y/n.” You deadpan, pretending not to notice the anxious expressions of the boy’s friends and those of your own beside you. 

He hums, giving you a once over before finishing the remaining contents of his glass in an embellished swoop. Setting it down with an intensity that makes Remus cringe. “Y/n.” He tests the word on his lips, tongue running over his teeth with a vexed smirk. “Pleasure, truly.” 

“I’m sure.” You quip instantly, taking a particularly large sip of your own drink and tilting your glass in farewell. He scoffs, turning on his heel and heading to the boys’ dormitory without another word. 

“Alright, what the fuck was that?” Dorcas accuses, having silently entered the room amongst the commotion. Her astonishment pulls a laugh from you, and Lilly’s eyes widen tenfold.

“Laughing, she’s laughing? Merlin, you amaze me!” 

“I’m right, aren’t I? He’s mean to that poor boy for no reason. He’s pompous Lilly, thinks he’s better than some of us for being muggle-born. I wont tolerate it.”

“Has he said that? Has he personally told you that?”

“Doesn’t have to.” You cross your arms, defensive.” She only throws her arms up in exasperation as you begin to aid Marlene in cleaning up the room. 

“He’s a bit messy as well.” The dark-haired girl holds up his empty glass, biting back a smile when Lilly smacks her palm to her forehead, exasperated. 

***********

   You’re at an actual party this time when you interact with James Potter again. 

Ravenclaw is hosting after a successful round of midterms has finished. You can finally shake the mid-semester stress away and enjoy yourselves for the few days break you receive from classes. It took longer than expected to enter the house’s commons. Sirius had reassured you all he knew the riddle to get inside, until he in fact, did not know the riddle, and you were all left coughing through a fit of charmed smoke. Until a a soft-spoken second year, no less, walked by and allowed the group of you in. 

“Beautiful, you’ve just earned yourself a glass of firewhisky, love.” Sirius yelps when Remus smacks him upside the head, watching as the younger student slips past the rest of you, past the celebratory atmosphere and straight to the dorms. The common room has been charmed to prohibit any students younger than sixth years of entering, thank Merlin. 

Those from their respective houses usually enter these parties together, so you’re unfortunately grouped in with the marauders. Including James, who avoids any and all eye contact with you. Both of you sporting deep scowls until you’re finally able to disperse. Most older Hufflepuffs are already there, and Slytherin is the last to enter. Waltzing in with bottles of alcohol they most definitely wont share, contrary to the generosity of the other houses. Who all usually trade bottles of their specialty drinks to one another. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink, what do you guys want?” You shout over the music and boisterous laughter emanating from the room, admiring the bronze and blue decorum of the foreign commons. Theres a universal “surprise me” from your girlfriends, and you head off to the drink table with a curt nod. There’s an array of liquors and mixers on the table, and you survey the options before deciding on a simple handful of Hog’s Head brews. 

“I don’t take a girl like you to be so keen of draft beer.” Noah Lyre, a stalky seventh year smiles wickedly beside you. Like most Slytherins, a hint of judgement in his tone. “Here, try some of this, my own concoction.” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You offer a tight-lipped smile, nose scrunching from the bitter smell emanating from the shiny black flask from even a foot away. He takes a step closer, to which you raise your brows. 

“I insist, you’ve got to at least try it.” He moves the flask toward you once more. To which you stick your hand out, irritated with his wandering eyes and unwavering persistence. 

“I said I’m good, thanks.” Is all you say before side-stepping his towering figure and heading back toward your friends. Passing out their respective drinks and taking a few gulps of yours, attempting to brush the creepy interaction off. 

“Everything alright?” Marlene leans close so you can hear her, you offer a reassuring smile and a quick nod. 

“I think this is the part where you ask Sirius to dance, considering he’s been eyeing you since we got here.” You tease, Lilly and Dorcas following your eyes across the room where the marauders are settled. Sharing a round of shots and shaking their heads to rid themselves of the bitter taste. Marlene steps forward at Dorcas’ shoving, shooting the three of you a half-assed glare before headed toward the boys. Amongst them, James hasn’t rid himself of that pitiful look. Wallowing beside his cheerful friends and taking large sips of the drink in hand.You meet his eyes for a split second, heads ripping away from one another’s direction as if the actions singed your skin. 

“Dorcas, look.” Lilly nudges the shorter girl excitedly in the direction of a Hufflepuff on the other side of the room. “It’s that sweet girl from potions who asked me about you, go talk to her!” Dorcas looks terrified, vehemently shaking her head as Lilly grabs her forearm. 

“Absolutely not, I’ll make a fool of myself.” 

“You will not! C’mon, I’ll introduce you.” The red-head beams as she tugs her along. You ignore the burning glare you receive as you ignore her mouthed ‘help me’ as she’s whisked away. 

*******

The atmosphere’s become increasingly chaotic as the night pushes on. You’ve shared a few shots with Marlene and some other acquaintances from your classes. Having just left a rambunctious game of truth or drink before hading into the hall. Not quite near the dormitories, afraid of disturbing any sleeping students, you simply seek a little more quiet. Just near the communal bathrooms, you’re stood admiring a painting of Rowena Ravenclaw. Watching as an eagle swoops by in the background.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” You spin on your heel to see Noah, significantly drunker now as compared to his last appearance 

“I think you’ve got the wrong person.” You cross your arms, taking a couple steps back as he stumbles toward you. 

“No, I don’t think so.” He sneers, same lustful eyes raking over your form. You square your shoulders at an attempt to appear bigger than you are, heart racing at the oncoming severity of the situation. He reaches out to play with a strand of your hair and you fight a gag at the overwhelming smell of liquor leaking from his pores. 

“My friends will be wondering where I am, see you around.” You force out, attempting to shuffle past him when he takes strong hold of your wrist. Grip so tight you lose your breath. He tugs you into his chest, sneering when you struggle in his grasp. 

“Get the fuck off me.” You all but shout, panic shooting through your chest when he backs you into a wall. 

“Where are you going, love? I just got here.” 

“Let me go, I fucking mean it.” You stomp on his foot, crying out when he he pulls you forward and smacks you against the wall. The back of your head coming into contact with the painting. Distantly, you hear the enchanted eagle squeak in surprise. 

Your cries for help are muffled when he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing the air from your lungs as your eyes go wide in terror.

“Just behave, sweetheart. This’ll be so much more enjoyable if you do.” Tears prick at your eyes not only from the inability to breathe but from his revolting words. Faintly, you hear the unclasping of a belt buckle as you writhe and kick with all your might. He’s much larger than you are, though, pressing the force of his entire body weight onto you to cease your fight. With his free hand, Noah enclasps both of your wrists together and forces them above your head and against the cold, hard stone. You feel his lips graze your jaw as bile rises in your throat, mentally preparing for whats to come next before he’s suddenly ripped off of you. 

You collapse to the floor, clutching your throat and gasping for air. The room spins, and you shake your head to come to your senses. It’s dark in this hall, but it’s clear whoever has the Slytherin blonde in his grasp is severely beating the shit out of him. You stumble to your feet, wiping the blurred moisture from your eyes to gather yourself. It’s then you realize the identity of the assailant. Unmistaking the familiar head of dark curls and tall, brooding figure. 

James. Fucking. Potter.

Potter, landing blow after blow, doesn’t stop his assault even as blood (and what looks like a couple teeth) spews from Noah’s mouth.

You try to speak, but your own voice fails you. Strained and cracking from the pressure it’s been under. You cough, trying again with your hands out in front of you. 

“J-James!” Is all you manage, croaked and unfamiliar to your ears. It’s the first time you’ve ever voiced his first name aloud. This must stun him, too, because he pauses his assault to look over his shoulder at you. Noah groans underneath him, and the disheveled Gryffindor spits on the floor next to him in utter disgust. There’s a final blow to his head that makes you wince, and Noah’s out cold. 

James stands, wobbling for just a moment before he straightens. Rolling his neck in a slow circle, strained with effort. You take in his sharp, handsome features, still in pure shock. He takes in your trembling form and immediately snaps his head away. You quirk a brow, confused when he shakes his jacket off his shoulders and holds it out to you. Only when you look down do you realize your blouse has been torn. Quickly taking the fabric and wrapping it around your shoulders with deep embarrassment and misplaced shame. 

Silently, James uncuffs his sleeves and rolls them up toward his elbows. “I’m gonna kill him,” he grabs the unconscious boy by the collar and pulls his arm back to lay yet another punch before you stop him. Hands clasped around his veined forearm and pulling it down. 

“You’ll be expelled!”

“Fuck’s that matter?”

“You’re not thinking straight, look at him. He’s out, he wont be getting up any time soon. It’s fine, it’s over”

“It’s not fine. Nothing about this is fine.” He’s hot with anger, running a hand through his tousled hair and grimacing at the pain that shoots through up his arm. 

“Your hands.” You whisper, to which the boy surveys his own handiwork, covered in blood and cut up from his own rings. He shrugs, eyes narrowing as he notices the uncontrollable trembling of the appendages. You reach out to touch them, but he pulls away. Afraid of any further pain. You pull your hands to your chest, shocked at the red marks already forming all over your wrists. 

“You alright?” He mutters, tone softer than you’ve ever heard before. It’s odd, the sudden quiet of it all. Only the muffled music from the common room to be heard in the background. 

“Better off than him, I suppose.” You make a meek attempt at a joke, nudging the bloodied boy on the floor with your foot. 

To your surprise, three Slytherin boys scurry into the hallway. Stopping short in their tracks with mouths open wide. James steps in front of you without a second thought, wiping the excess blood onto his trousers and nodding his head toward the unconscious kid in front of him. 

“Get him out of my fucking sight.” The trio doesn’t speak, shuffling into action the instant he finishes the command. It’s a struggle for them to lift up the dead weight, but they move fast enough after James releases an exasperated sigh. Right as they exit, James’ friends and your own stop dead in their tacks, trying to process all they’ve just seen. In the other room, the music cuts short, you and James both pull a face in understanding. This’ll be the talk of the school for the next week. 

“We should go. All of us.” Remus announces, the rest of you nod. Your friends are on you in an instant, tugging the jacket tighter around you and checking your body for further injury. You let them hover, knowing they must be in almost as much shock as you. It’s a wordless shuffle back to the dorms, the boys ensuring their bodies shield your own as you make your way through the halls. You separate when you reach the common room of Gryffindor, and James is the last pair of eyes you meet with before sulking into your respective dorms. 

It’s only when you reach your bed do you allow yourself to be overcome with sobs. The weight of all thats happened collapsing in on you. All the girls can do is stroke your hair and whisper idle reassurances. When you finally relax a little, Marlene waves her wand over your head. Casting a peaceful sleep spell to get you through the night. 

**********

   Taking the steps up into the boy’s dormitory has your heart racing. The memories of last night never having left your mind. Despite the lingering, slight hangover you’re fighting, the only real evidence of the assault is the bruising on your neck and wrists, faded now that Lilly’s cast a charm on them. The deep, purple marks, and the whispers of fellow students. Unsurprisingly, word got out about what happened, and there’s been a lot of stares. After a concise meeting with McGonagall, Noah’s been expelled. You overhear in a hushed conversation between a few third-years that he’d walked out of his dorm with his belongings in hand, head hanging low to conceal the developing shiners on his face. A few slow, deep breathes, to ground yourself before knocking on the door. 

It’s Sirius who answers, offering the same sympathetic gaze you’ve been receiving all morning. 

“Hey, love.” He offers simply, studying your anxious form. 

“Hi, I didn’t mean to bother you guys I just...” You fumble over words despite having rehearsed this scenario a million time in the past hour. “I just wanted to return this to James, he lent it to me last night. I also never got to thank him, so please extend my gratitude when you see him.” You extend your arms, offering him the fabric in hand. Expecting him to accept it and bid you farewell. Cringing when you think you sound too formal and, well, rehearsed. 

“Nonsense, you can tell him yourself when he comes back. He was called to Dumbledore’s office but he should be back any minute.” He reads your sullen expression at the mention of potential discipline for an incident he didn’t have to get involved in, but he waves his hand dismissively. 

“Dumbledore knows what happened, might revoke a few points form Gryffindor but Prongs won’t be punished. It was self defense, really.” The raven haired boy comes to realize rambling on about the traumatic events are most likely not what you need to hear right now, so he clears his throat and smiles once again. Sirius Black, of course, does the complete opposite of what you’d expect him to do. Stepping aside to welcome you in. “Come in, come in, Remus just started a pot of tea.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I didn’t mean to intrude I just meant to drop this off and-” 

“Please, we insist. Besides, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“You have?”

“Of course.” There’s a few beats of silence, and you accept the cup of tea Remus offers with a kind smile. Feeling utterly undeserving of such gestures due to your last interaction. Sirius, realizing he’s supposed to be leading the conversation, then continues...

“I simply need to get to know any girl who can make Prongs speechless. And you did, in the common room the other night.”

“About that, I just wanted to apologize. I think I gave off the wrong impression and-”

“You can’t be serious, we loved it!” Sirius interrupts passionately. 

“It was a little harsh, sure.” Remus translates for his dear friend, as usual. Albeit true. James can come off a little...” He searches for the appropriate words, handing Sirius a steaming cup as he continues. “...Brooding, at times. But he means well. He has a good heart, just a little ‘do before you think or say’ kind of guy.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You joke, not unkind.

“See! That there. You’re quite witty, and fiery as well. James needs that in his life!” Your eyes widen at his presumption, Remus winces. 

“What he means to say, is James is quite stubborn. And doesn’t always listen to us when we try to nudge him in the right direction.” The lanky boy recovers, not before shooting Sirius a look. 

“And I do?” You laugh, amused at the absurdity of such a notion. 

“Yes.” They chime in unison, Sirius delighted in the abashed heat that singes your skin. He grips the chair in front of you, and you suddenly feel very small in their kitchenette of their dorm. 

“Prongs, James, is not silenced very often, if at all. He was mute for like, two whole days after your little argument in commons.” 

“Right.” You mutter, shame heavy in your tone. “I see now it was a bit, bitchy of me.” The two are a little taken aback by your language, though you continue anyway. “I didn’t have all the details about the situation. I just felt I had to say something...My mom’s a muggle, and I don’t know. I got defensive at the notion that he was the type of person to see her as less because she isn’t a witch. I made an assumption, a wrong one at that, and I feel terrible about it. Especially after last night.” Keys clatter as you finish, and you’re stunned to see James at the doorway, having heard your entire spiel. 

“Oh, hey” You mutter plainly, horribly embarrassed. 

“Hello.” James swallows, fiddling with the worn wrap covering his hand. “Does it hurt much?” 

“Sorry?”

“The bruising,” he motions to his neck in reference to yours, and you realize Lilly’s charms have completely worn off now. You caress the tender skin with a wince, smiling softly in reassurance to the concerned looks it earns. You take out your wand, aiming to perform the spell once again before James shakes his head. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have to hide what happened. He should live with the shame. Should have kept hitting the bastard.” He mutters the last part to himself, fist closing tightly and then releasing, jaw tensing as he recalls the conflict. 

“I think he got the message, Prongs.” Remus mumbles idly. James only shakes his head, clearing his throat and once again fiddling with the wraps around his hand. 

“You should probably change those. Here, let me help.” You get up from your seat, surprising even yourself as you approach the much taller boy. opening the discarded first aid kit strewn on the kitchen counter, they must have left it out in last  night’s commotion. 

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had worse.” James tries to pull away but you grab his arm and bring it toward you. Eyes full of such sincerity the boy finds his mouth has gone dry. He hadn’t noticed how bad the bruising was until now. Up this close, he can see the discoloration shaping out where Noah’s fingers were. It makes his stomach turn, flashes of the image forever ingrained in his mind. He can only imagine how it must be for you. And despite your strained relationship, James Potter comes to the conclusion that he’s been awfully concerned over your well-being the past 24 hours. 

“Please, it’s the least I can do.” Silently, you unravel the fraying wrap from his hands. 

“You know it’s against school policy, James. Laying your hands on another student. I should expel you.”

“Professor-”

“No matter, I understand the reason behind your actions. While I won’t tolerate any more violence on your behalf, I think you did what was...necessary.” 

James only nods, eager to go back to his dorm hide under his duvet. It’s all been so overwhelming. The stares, the whispers, the shaky feeling he’s had all say. Knowing you must be experiencing it tenfold. 

“Now, please Mr. Potter, straight to your dormitory. And try and look as though I’ve actually disciplined you.”

James snaps out of his thoughts when you flinch. In his daze, he’d reached out toward your neck. And although you’re certain he’d never harm you, you’ve been avoiding any physical touch since the incident. 

“Sorry, so sorry.” He manages dumbly, avoiding the not so subtle gawking of his friends. They know the boy better than himself, and know when he’s smitten over someone. Fuck, had he really just thought that? 

“It’s alright. I’m still a little jumpy I guess.” You say plainly, not quite gathering the weight of your words until you notice their collective reactions. You hate it, the pitiful gazes. Looking at you as if one wrong move could break you. 

“Sirius, we have to go do that thing.” Remus grabs the former by his arm, pulling him past you and James and toward the door. Sirius, still staring at the pair of you, clutches onto any furniture that will halt his friends actions. 

“No, there is nowhere we need to be, I’m perfectly fine right here!” He shouts in a panic, seemingly enamored with the two of you. 

“It’s very urgent, the thing we need to do. See you both at dinner.” Remus hurries his farewell, tugging a pouting, squirming Sirius all the way. 

“It was just getting good!” You hear from down the hall before James shuts the door with his foot. 

“What’s gotten into them?” 

“You should know they are almost always that insufferable.” James deadpans, though there’s a faint fondness in his tone. You know he loves them much more than he’d like to admit. It’s endearing. You've just referred to James Potter as endearing...What a bizarre 24 hours. 

“I don’t think I’ve said thank you yet.” You laugh, despite the absurdity of it all. 

“No need to thank me.” He only shakes his head, watching as you pour a small container of bewitched ointment onto a cotton ball. It smells strongly of herbs and peppermint, and the muscled, supposedly tough sixth year pulls his hand away before you can dab it onto his knuckles with a small grunt.

“C’mon, I haven’t even started.” It’s the first time in a while he’s seen you genuinely smile since everything happened. You like to tease James Potter, and he likes it too. 

“Smells awful, I’ll get Remus to find a healing spell.” 

“You need topical medicine, not a spell that will ware off.” You tug at his arm once again, both shocked at the force of it, so strong he has to take a step forward. Close enough to feel the warmth emanating from you. He’d probably be able to smell your hair too, if the horrid ointment was capped. He’s once again taken aback by his own longing thoughts. Just two days ago, Potter considered you an enemy. 

He sucks his teeth when you begin to apply the medicine, doing your best to be gentle. You pause, waiting for his signal to continue. 

“Didn’t tell me it was gonna sting.”

“Would you have let me put it on if I did?” You shoot him that incredulous look again, and James has to bow his head so he can manage to speak. You’re much too intense for him to bear, he thinks. And he then understands how much trouble these feelings will get him in. 

“There is a need. To thank you, I mean.” Unable to control the shudder of your shoulders when he releases a deep, pained breath from your work. Hoping he hasn’t noticed. 

“Y/n, I already said-”

“James,” There’s his name on your lips again. And it seems the two of you recognize its foreign nature once more. “If you hadn’t stepped in he could have-” You stop yourself, swallowing hard to fight the nausea. “You and I both know what could have happened. I didn’t...I haven’t taken that gesture lightly. Let me appreciate that.” You’re stern albeit no less kind as you begin to re-wrap his knuckles. Skin grazing his as you go. He’s silent, staring so reverently it takes your breath away. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” He whispers, and you swear you see. For only a millisecond, James Potter’s eyes avert to your lips. And you think he might kiss you. And you think you might want him to. He pushes a strand of hair from your face, leaning even closer to you. You blink, slow with a reminder breathe, as you realized you hadn’t been the last few seconds. His hand trails down to your jaw, gently tilting your head up toward him. You let your lids closing, awaiting his lips on yours at any moment.

“We should put ice on it.”

“What?” Your eyes shoot open, and James has just most definitely fucked that up.

“Your neck. There could be swelling.”  He attempts to caress the skin there, but you step back, ears burning hot with embarrassment. Why did you think he was gonna kiss you, why did you want him to?

“Oh, sure. Right.” You watch as he fumbles about to the fridge, grabbing an ice pack and wrapping it in a paper towel before outstretching his hand toward you. Internally cringing when you take et instead of allowing him to place it on you. Merlin, I’m an idiot.

“Dinner. We should go eat.” You collect yourself, moving toward the door when James nods hurriedly. 

“Right, dinner. I’m starving, actually” He fumbles horribly, wincing at the crack in his voice. “I’ll meet you down there.” You nod, reaching for the door when he stops you. 

“Y/n?” You halt instantly, turning on your heel in hopes you haven fucked up as royally as you assume. The chaser scratched the back of his neck with a pained smile. “Thank you for returning the jacket. And, uh.” He gestures with his hands in reference to the bandaging. All you manage is a tight-lipped smile. And he swears he sees a hint of moisture pricking at your eyes, mouth agape to say something, anything. But you’re out the door before he can even blink. Not hearing the flood of curses escaping his mouth after kicking the kitchen bin in a fit of anger, clutching the now throbbing foot and hopping around the room like the bumbling idiot he is. 

***********

Dinner is weird. Really weird. Sirius insists you and your girlfriends sit with the marauders. Taking you by the shoulders and sitting you right beside a silent James. Marlene and Lilly were delighted, having always wanted to sit by the boys. Though with your not-so-secret disdain for Potter had always made meals a little weird before. You’d talk mostly to Dorcas, who was always eager for good conversation if it meant she could listen and not have to talk as much as you did. You understood her quiet nature more than the other girls, and often borrowed whatever book she’d be willing to lend you in leu of shared analysis. 

But now, Dorcas was looking between you and James with a shit-eating smirk. Much like that of Remus beside her, who pretended to be more interested in the book in hand rather than the two in front of him. Pushing the food around on their plate idly, whatever bites taken were chewed slow and with deep thought. 

“This is nice,” Sirius chimes cheekily. “All of us, eating together. I think we’ve found ourselves an established group. Don’t ya think, Prongs?” 

“What?” The boy voices beside you, much too loud to be appropriate. You’re both still getting stares from some of your peers. Although most of the buzz of what’s happened having worn off, now you’re seen sitting right beside one another. Bandages and all. 

A couple of Slytherin girls make their gossip particularly obvious across the room, one of them pointing at you as the rest giggle along. You sink impossibly closer into your seat. 

“Ignore them.” James mutters, practically seething as he stares them down. “They have half a mind to start double checking the locks on their doors. Seeing as that’s the type of boys they have lingering about in their house.” He finishes dryly, doing a double take when he finally glances your way. Fists clenched in rage once more as you blink away tears. 

“He’s gone now, for good.” Marlene reassures, flicking Sirius on the forehead when he does little to conceal his searching of your teary eyes. 

“How’s it feel, the bruising. You think the ice helped any?” James asks for what is likely the tenth time since you’ve sat down. Gently knocking your arm away that tries to stop him from taking hold of your chin. Surveying the discolored skin with a deep frown. 

“Probably in the same condition as it was ten minutes ago. And the ten minutes before that.” Black deadpans, yelping when Lily kicks his shin from under the table. Smiling sweetly when you and James jerk your heads toward the commotion. 

“Let’s change topics, yeah? Remus, how’s that book you’re reading there.” The sandy-haired boy is mid bite when she asks, mortified all the attention has turned to him. 

“Lovely,” is all he manages, swallowing thickly. 

“I’m gonna head up to bed.” You announce, tossing your napkin onto your barely touched plate of food with a feigned smile. They all straighten, offering a chorus of soft- spoken ‘goodnights’ as you rise from your seat. 

“I’ll come with you.” Lilly moves to get up, but you wave your hand. 

“No need, I’ll manage. See you up there.” You gather your things before heading toward the large doors of the great hall. Pulling up the collar of your dress shirt as you feel a few pairs of eyes follow you. 

James scrambles from the table without a word, hot on your heels as you both exit. 

“Y/n, wait up. Y/n!” You cease your movements, so sudden James has to steady himself on your shoulders. You look around, glaring at a few fourth years as they gawk at you. Whispering all the way. You pul your shoulder back to leave his grasp, guilt overcoming you when a flash of hurt overcomes his features. 

“People are watching, Potter.” You mutter, paranoid eyes darting around you. James stiffens, pained by your sudden formalities. 

“So what? Let them say whatever they’re gonna say. We know what happened.” He crosses his arms, brows taught with tension. 

“It’s not that easy for me.” You defend, fiddling with your collar once again. 

“I told you to stop covering that,” James reaches out to adjust the fabric himself. Further irritated when you pull his hand away. 

“They aren’t going to spin this on you, James. You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand, I think I’m well aware of whats gonna happen. This is all gonna blow over, and this school will be better off without that piece of shit.” 

“No!” You blench at your own volume, shaking your head before continuing. “You want to know what they’ll say Potter? That I asked for it.” James steps back, disgusted at the notion. 

“Why on Earth would they say that?”

“Because that’s what some people say to make themselves feel safer, it’s easier to blame me than him.” You shrug, throat tightening at the realization. 

“Where’s this coming from?”

“There was a note, in the girls lavatory. Dorcas tried to throw it away so I wouldn’t see but, I did.” James studies your face, awaiting you to continue with soft eyes. “Some Slytherins are saying I made it up, since Noah’s such a good Quidditch player, was gonna be captain next year.”

“Good at Quidditch player, he’s a beater thats hit three of his teammates because he can’t aim.” It forces a strained chuckle from you, and you only shake your head. 

“Doesn’t matter James, they’re saying I got him expelled for Gryffindor’s team because we’re-” You stop yourself, somehow even more uncomfortable. 

“We’re what?” He cocks his head when you motion between yourselves, sighing at his confusion. 

“That we’re together, James.” 

“Oh.” He scratches his nose, shuffling through the beats of awkward silence. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well it’s all bullshit, why are you letting it get to you?” You practically draw in on yourself at his words, fresh tears begging to escape your eyes at his unbeknownst cruelty. 

“Right, it’s all bullshit. You’re right, I should just let it go. We can get back to our normal routines and everyone will see it isn’t true.” You attempt to turn away from him, but he grabs the fabric of your robes. 

“I’m sorry,” he laughs despite himself. “Am I missing something here?”

You falter, opening your mouth to respond but not quite sure what to say. He looks genuinely distressed, and you make one last attempt at extending an opportunity. “I don’t know, are you?” He’s silent, searching your face for answers you can’t give him. Panicking at the though of losing contact despite all you’ve been through. 

“Did you mean what you said about me. In the dorms.” 

“James, I told you-”

“No, you didn’t. Do you really believe I think you’re less than me because you’re a half-blood? You really think that matters to me?”

“No, not anymore, anyway.” James smirks, stepping closer when your brows furrow in confusion at his sudden mood change. 

“So I’m not as pompous as you thought I was?”

“You most definitely have a big ego, Potter.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” He takes your jaw in his hold, eyebrows raised in teasing inquiry. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly and avoiding his eyes. 

“What d’you think they’d all say if I kissed you, then?” You almost cough, choking on your own saliva at his words. The cheeky bastard just keeps smiling, basking in your flushed demeanor. 

“Oh eat slugs, Pott-” Your interrupted with his lips on yours, lifting off of your heels to make it easier for him. James, insufferable as always, is grinning the entire time. 

“Yes! He made the first move, Remus. You owe me two galleons-” Sirius is cut off by his own whimper. What must be the lot of your spying friends shoves him into the hallway so he’s the only one caught, in which he stands speechless under your glares. 

“A sweet little first year lost her cat, you guys seen it by any chance? No matter, I’ll keep looking for it. Bloody kids always losing their pets.” And Sirius, the dope that he is, begins to make kissing noises in a meek attempt at recovery. Feigned grumbles of “here, kitty.” Echo down the hallways before you hear his fleeting footsteps. 

You press your forehead into James’ chest, utterly embarrassed and admittedly exhausted. What a bizarre 24 hours

[mamadoc]

Dear #Chenford/#TheRookie friends,

Thank you to everyone that has read any of my fanfiction stories. I, like many of you, have been very affected by 6x6. I’ve tried to continue writing my Catch of a Lifetime story, but each time I try, I cry. Then I try again and cry.

The chapter I’m trying to write has Tim promising to never leave Lucy and to take care of her. And I just can’t write that right now. It feels too disingenuous. And I can’t handle it emotionally.

So, after taking a few days to process things, I’ve decided to tackle a different story I’ve wanted to write for a while. It’s still a Chenford story, but there’s a lot of heartache up front. That seems to match my emotional state more right now. Perhaps it will match yours, too

I’d love to have you follow me on this journey if you’re in a place where you can still read Chenford (I wasn’t for a few days).

My apologies again that I’m going to have to take a hiatus on Catch.

Hopefully I’ll have it ready to post in the next few days.

Sending hugs to anyone that needs them as we all try to process what was thrown at us.

[shirefantasies]

Hi everyone. It’s me again. I just wanted to make a post I’m sorry isn’t clearer. Nothing is very clear right now. I’ve been feeling really trapped and broken and stressed by some potentially exciting but also very scary things in life. I’ve been struggling with who I am and what I want and if I even want to be here. I’ve had some great times lately and I’ve also had my worst self harm bout to date. I lost the one friend I had on this account and haven’t had my passion in almost all aspects of life for a bit. I’m not entirely sure if I’ll become inactive on this blog or just continue my hiatus but for right now writing has been too much. I’m sorry for all my drama, problems, and mental health things- believe me, I wish they���d go away too. I want to apologize to my friend for probably being a dick during my episode. I really appreciate all your support and messages while we were talking. It was really cool to have someone to talk to and I’m sorry I fucked it up. I’m kind of fucking everything up right now. There’s no real winning in my situation but oh well. Whether I stay on this blog or really anywhere I don’t know, but I’d like to thank everyone who enjoyed my writing for so long. Your kind words mean a lot, they really do!

[whakkicat]

i am leaving

i made a post on my twt about this, but i should make it here as well.

this is my last text post before i archive this account and start elsewhere. video about what’s been happening at some point.

this post will be a personal note to friends, mutuals, communities, etc, and what will happen from here.

brief warning for mentions of abuse

1. i want to start with a word towards the rain world community. first off, i want to thank rain world for giving me a home. for starting me off as an artist. i had never actively participated in a fandom before this, and it was a wonderful experience.

the game brought me and so many of my friends together, i met a lot of amazing artists, some of which i’m still shocked they’re my mutuals, and rain world itself changed my life for the better, i believe. it gave me hope and something to live for when nothing else did.

i’ve always been quite afraid of voicing myself, as i had never participated actively in a fandom before, therefore had never gotten used to talking in one. but to those who’ve stuck around, who have enjoyed my content, thank you.

2. to the people who have been there for me during the worst, who have let me know i am not alone in my suffering, it means so much to me. i really hope that i can still keep contact with many of the people i have met on here.

there have been so many kind people on this platform and it’s been a joy talking to you all. if this is goodbye, to some, i wish you all the best. it’s only what you deserve.

3. i will be reaching out to the main people who i owe art to, regardless of cmms or not. it is unprofessional of me not to keep track of myself and keep everyone waiting. my ADHD has not made it very easy for me. i apologize.

4. this point will mention abuse, so cw dealing and getting out of abuse this year was extremely hard for me, and is still taking its toll on me. it’s part of the reason i can’t stay, because i feel they still have power over me, even if they’re not actively in my life anymore.

as i move on, i don’t want to completely abandon my past, and everything that came out of that abuse in the first place. i am not abandoning myself, or forgetting what i went through. i want to grieve my younger, naive self as i go forward as an artist.

this doesn’t mean i’ve let them win and break me down. i won’t give up on myself. i need to be kinder to myself and heal, so being away from this will help. this also goes out to anyone else trapped in their friendships, relationships. you will be okay. talk to

please do not silence yourself for the sake of other people. your own feelings are just as valid and important as anyone else’s. don’t let people make you feel bad for feeling your own feelings.

5. to mutuals who’d like to stay in contact, i have a priv account on twitter i will mainly be using from now on. it won’t be used as much as it used to, considering this is a hiatus, but it will be where i will reside. you’re free to ask me in dms.

6. i’ve already begun starting over, i won’t be gone completely. if you happen to recognize me in the near future, please do not pester me about it. simply accept that i have restarted, as a brand, as an artist, and i’d like to start over from square one.

7. this account will also be public for the remainder of its existence, however i may clean it up for archival purposes. i don’t want to simply vanish, i am proud of some of the work i have published, and i don’t want it to be forgotten.

it’s a bit odd, considering most of my art is composed of doodles, non-serious jokes, and mostly fanart. hopefully i can make self indulgent art in the future. i’ve always wanted people to know my characters, but was always too afraid to actually talk to people.

closing point i’m sorry if my absence upsets anyone, if you are disappointed in me. i can’t stress enough that this year has been hard enough on me, and being here is hard enough. i want a fresh start. i want to be okay.

i love my fellow artists, my friends, everyone. there’s so many talented people i’ve met and i don’t ever want to forget them. my last post will be my video talking about my experiences this year, previous years, because i feel it’s important for me to come out about it.

this is a goodbye. i will miss many of you. here’s to hoping the rest of the year will be good for everyone! until our paths meet again. good luck out there

[swindle-comic]

As Swindle comes off of hiatus, I (Artsy) would just like to say a few things.

I firstly just want to say a big personal thank you to everyone who’s been so patient during this hiatus. I’ve been dealing with a lot over the months that this comic hasn’t been updating and I’m still just keeping my head above water as it is. To those who are so empathetic, so kind, so understanding, thank you. You guys are a big reason why I continue working on this comic, and I am really excited for you to see where the story goes.

Lord knows that I’ve dedicated more than enough time complaining about the small but vocal group of people who have been rude - sometimes excessively so - to both Lolly and I as we work on this comic, and I’d like to not spend a terribly long time dwelling on it, here. I probably won’t mention if for a long while after this post. At the same time, it’s worth noting that we’ve done a lot to try to discourage and manage this behavior with... mixed results. We’ve blocked people for repeated rude behavior, we’ve banned people from our Discord server for rude behavior, we’ve closed our askbox during the hiatus, we’ve introduced an FAQ - and people have evaded being blocked by making throwaway accounts, and we’ve had an incident of an individual making a new Discord account to evade a ban, and people don’t read our FAQ. It’s all really frustrating.

I think, for now, at least, we’re going to only open our askbox to non-anons - though this won’t do too much to prevent throwaways, it’ll at least convolute the means through which people can harass us. So apologies to the shy but kind individuals who had been using anon peacefully, maybe sometime we’ll open it back up again.

Additionally, I’ll like to just once again ask for anyone who hasn’t to check out FAQ, please. It’s in our pinned post for a reason.

Somewhat related to that - mostly that it’s something that’s been covered in the FAQ, is that I’ve noticed an increasing number of people who have been saying they discovered the comic via re-uploads on tiktok and pintrest.

And. Wow. That hurts. It hurts to know, to think about. I know it’s inevitable, trust me, I know this is just the inevitable result of posting anything on the internet, but god, it sucks.

I don’t know how many of you following this blog are artists, but it’s a big long topic that I don’t really have the space or patience to lay out for all of you in this post - this is art theft. We do not allow, we say it right in our FAQ point-blank, we do not allow people to reupload the comic elsewhere. Dubs are fine, again, we’ve covered this, they’re transformative, they offer an experience unique to just reading the comic. But un-voiced reuploads that do nothing but present the comic in a slideshow? That’s stealing. It’s hurtful, and it’s wrong. Both Lolly and I have dealt many times with our work being stolen and we’ve made our stances on reuploads of our work pretty clear on our own blogs.

Please, if you see someone doing this, report them. The only “official” accounts for the comic are this blog and our promotional Instagram page, swindle.comic. If an account is uploading the comic, un-dubbed, they do no have permission to do so, and they need to be reported.

I really don’t expect this to be the last time I have to say something like this or about this, because I know that this comic is going to take a long time to complete and so we’ll always have newcomers who can’t reasonably be asked to sift through the entire blog for posts like these. But for now, I hope it helps keep the interaction with this comic more respectful. I don’t think the people who do this stuff even realize that their behavior literally makes this comic more draining to work on than it should be (which leads to more burnout and hiatuses) - or I wouldn’t be making posts like this at all, because if they did know, they therefore wouldn’t care, and telling them would be pointless. So I hope this serves as a decent reminder that we’re human beings, and we and our work deserves to be respected.

[insurrection-if]

TW / Content Warning: death, loss, euthanasia

Apologies for oversharing after such a long period of silence, but tonight has cemented my thoughts towards this blog and its future status.

My eldest dog, Charlie, has passed away at the near age of thirteen. After his health scare in February, he had seemingly recovered and pepped back up to his usual goofy mama’s boy self. I am so thankful for these last several weeks I was able to enjoy with him, and feel so blessed to have seen him hold the strength that he did up until last night.

His condition plummeted rapidly and suddenly last afternoon. The veterinarians at the emergency clinic suspected a brain tumor yesterday, alongside (a) stroke(s), and confirmed this diagnosis just before he finally passed. We didn’t even have the time or money to undergo further testing to affirm what was then a theorized, tenuous diagnosis before it was clear that his time had come. It is confirmed to us now that cancer, not an infection, has likely been the main instigator of his health scare back in February. It’s a blessing that he didn’t suffer or dampen in his joy these past several weeks, up until yesterday, while afflicted with this illness.

Charlie used to be my great-grandfather’s dog. We took him into our home after my great-grandfather passed and his home was lost to our family. Charlie came to us in such poor health, and amazed us all with his recovery and clumsy energy these past two years. At that time, those most optimistic were projecting he only had a few months or so, and to see him having lived so long a full a life in the time he’s been under our roof (for far longer than anyone had foreseen) has been a wonder beyond comprehension. For the gift of his companionship, I cannot express enough of my gratitude.

I truly believe he’s in a better place. Goodness, I cried and prayed my heart out last night when I just absolutely felt in my soul what was around the corner - even when the clinic had then cleared him to come home and told us he would be fine. And even with all this time to be with him and give my goodbyes, it still doesn’t feel right to not have him walking into my room and insisting he be carried up to the bed all with a little wiggle of excitement in his hips.

These past few years were a good life for him. Even yesterday, when he began to show signs of and fall deep into weakness, confusion, and fatigue he still wagged his tail when I laid my hand on him and tried his best to follow the sound of my voice.

For those of you less interested in my personal matters and more so in just whatever content I can produce, this event has finalized some thoughts I’d been having a week or so before this in regard to this blog.

This is not a hiatus. Rather, this blog will be silent until I have a form of demo (‘short’ still in length) that I’m satisfied enough with to share. It’s been stressful balancing this guilt of not responding enough and the guilt of responding too much on this blog. And, with this great loss in my life, I don’t think I will regain the right headspace to manage this blog and my responses on it anytime soon.

Apologies for the silence and, now, the suddenness of this change in matters.

For all those with pets, whether they be full of health or struggling a little more with their once daily routine, please take the time to really show them all the love and care you hold for them each day. Please cherish your time with them, be kind to them, and form as many close memories as you can with them. It’s so easy to take time we have with them for granted. I’m so glad to have provided the home I did for Charlie, and hope he knows just I much I loved him and will keep loving him even now that he’s gone ahead of me to our next destination.

Again, apologies for becoming too personal with all this. The emotional wound is still so fresh and I simply hoped to vent as I clarified my current stance around this narrative. So many of you have been the absolute embodiment of gracious patience and abundant kindness with me and my nonsense here on this blog, and I thank you all deeply for it.

Here’s to hoping I return sooner rather than later with something good, or at least decent, to share.

See you soon.