#U all hate them once they are accused

[lovethatmakingcoffee]

i think what pisses me off the most about all of this, is that even if Forever does get arrested for being a pedo, which he won't cause this will blow over in a week considering some of y'all attention spans, that it took one post. ONE POST. A tweet of u must. From some anon to accuse him of being that. That's all it takes on the internet? Just one post. It happens Everytime, everyone always jumps on it because they are afraid of being accused of supporting xy and z and then just turn.

Like it doesn't have to be forever. It could be any content creator and this happens Everytime. Usually with the intention to chase them off the platform. Not to seek real justice, just fake internet justice

Why do you all run tail? Why do you say u have always known? Why is there no more believe with a grain of salt? Why? You just let the wolves eat the Shepard? What is happening???

[lovemomhatepolice]

charles leclerc nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no question of any degradation. Never in his life would Charles turn to you - whether during sex or in normal functioning - in an offensive way. No sluts, whores, bitches. To him, you are the queen and mistress of his heart, so that's not an option. O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Honestly, it depends on your mood. Sometimes he can't get away from you and all he would do is spend time between your legs (you can't accuse him of lack of talent, the boy knows what he's doing) and not pull away. However, he also likes it when you take the initiative and take care of him. Especially if you both have developed such a mode that you are damn satisfied. P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Here, in the same way, I can say that it depends on the mood. Mostly, however, he puts on intimate, hot close-ups that are so infused with romance that one could even dream of such…. But if you just ask him to be faster or harder, he won't refuse. Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Despite his fondness for romantic close-ups, he is not opposed to quick rounds. If you just don't have much time, and you're already both bursting from lack of touch, definitely a quickie in the toilet is a great opportunity for him to be able to feel all of you. However, it's definitely more common for you to have quick oral sex when a man dives under your dress or you go on your knees. R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Since Charles told you directly that he would like to have children with you, you happened to have sex once or twice without any protection - to his disappointment, it didn't work out. And as for the risk of space, Charles tends to shy away from that. He loves to show that you are together and love each other, but the sexual sphere is only for your eyesight. S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) I think so 2-3 rounds at ease. I do not think more is needed here. Your sex mostly lasts quite long because of the techniques you use to make it better and longer, so don't need more than 2 rounds mostly. T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No. I don't feel like Charles has any toys or wants to use them in his relationship with you. Don't take me wrong - Charles is not the type who would be jealous of toys, however, he doesn't feel the need to own them. He is not against them - on the opposite, if you do own one, it will definitely come from his lips at some point that you should show him how these wonders work on your body… U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, Charles on the one hand loves teasing you and on the other hand hates doing it. It all depends on the moment - if it's a quick round, there's no time for teasing either. If you have intoxicating romantic sex, he mostly doesn't do it either. But when it comes down to it, and it's Charles who is on his knees in front of you, oh my gosh! He loves it when you're one big moaning pile in front of him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) The middle of the Leclerc siblings loves to pay compliments during intercourse. Sam also constantly shows how good you are to him, but I wouldn't say it's somehow super loud. Yes, his mouth often opens with a loud breath or moan, but it's mostly you who are louder, which doesn't bother him at all… W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) A man loves the sight of you on your knees in front of him. It's really never been a big deal to him in his life, but if it's YOU kneeling in front of him with the intention of doing him good, you don't have to wait long for the finale… X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Not too big, not too small - a little larger than standard. The main thing is that it's perfect for you. Well, I swear! The two of you are so made for each other that you connect like a puzzle. Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) When he sees you in skimpier clothes, you don't have to wait long. Oh, Charles himself just has his hands on you already. It doesn't take much for him to come running to you like a stray puppy. But let's not kid ourselves, you also have a high sex drive and it doesn't bother you at all. You have sex often, but without exaggeration - you love the intimacy you can give each other, but in a fit of exhaustion or stress, you just let it go. Showing love in other ways with you is as much as possible, and you do it all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Oh, it takes Charles a long time to fall asleep. So you practically always have a long talk with each other after sex, and mostly you fall asleep first in his embrace, and he falls asleep quite a while later. Despite your best efforts, he chooses the moment of his own falling asleep. He loves to contemplate, stroking your hair and smiling to himself at how lucky he is.

A/N: part one if anyone missed it!! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week? please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

this time, according to the votes, the chapter with lando won, so there you go!

[amournoir]

Hi can u do a fic where the reader and Klaus are in a relationship and the mikaelson's hate her .

Thanks

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 ┄ 𝐢

pairing: niklaus mikaelson x f!reader

count: 1.4k

warning: angst

author’s note: thanks for the request hun! 💋 p.s, here's part 2

The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life, and Y/N, Klaus Mikaelson's spirited and vivacious girlfriend, seemed to embody the very essence of the city's energy. She reveled in the thrill of the night, seeking joy and adventure wherever she went. But little did she know that her vibrant spirit was causing a storm within the Mikaelson family. 

Rebekah and Elijah, Klaus's siblings, observed with disapproval as Y/N led Klaus into the wild festivities of the French Quarter. They detested her carefree nature, seeing her as a disruption to the carefully constructed order of their lives. In their eyes, Y/N was a distraction, a youthful folly that would only lead Klaus astray. The siblings had made their opinions known countless times, urging Klaus to end the relationship. They saw her as a threat to their family's stability and tried to set him up with a "more suitable" woman— a 30-year-old socialite whose poise and maturity contrasted sharply with Y/N's exuberance. 

One evening, as the Mikaelson family gathered for a somber dinner, tensions reached their breaking point. Rebekah and Elijah, fueled by their desire to protect their brother, confronted Y/N, leveling accusations of infidelity.

“You're nothing but trouble,” Rebekah hissed, her eyes flashing with disdain. “You're not right for Nik.”

Y/N's face paled, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are you talking about? I love Klaus with all my heart,” she protested, her voice trembling.

Elijah shook his head, his tone cutting like a blade. “You're young, reckless, and unreliable,” he stated coldly. “You're only going to hurt him.”

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she struggled to find the right words to defend herself. She had always tried to be honest with Klaus, to give him everything he deserved, but now she felt like she was being torn apart by the very people she had hoped to call family.

“I love him,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “I would never hurt him, and I would never cheat on him.”

But her words fell on deaf ears, and the Mikaelson siblings remained adamant in their disapproval. Klaus, torn between his love for Y/N and his loyalty to his family, was caught in the crossfire of their bitter dispute. For days, the rift between Y/N and the Mikaelson siblings grew wider. Each encounter was fraught with tension, with accusations and misunderstandings that only deepened the wounds. Y/N felt isolated and alone, her heart heavy with the weight of their judgments.

One night, as the moon hung low in the sky, Klaus found Y/N sitting alone by the fireplace, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. He approached her, his heart aching at the sight of her pain.

“Love talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice soft with concern.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Your family hates me,” she whispered. “They think I'm not good enough for you.”

Klaus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I don't care what they think,” he said firmly. “I love you and I won't let them come between us.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the constant pressure from his family weighed heavily on Klaus's mind. Doubts began to seep into his heart, and he found himself torn between his love for Y/N and the desire to mend the fractures in his family. In the depths of his turmoil, Klaus faced an impossible choice— to stand by the woman he loved or to appease his family by letting her go. His heart and mind waged war within him, leaving him in a state of inner turmoil that threatened to consume him.

As the darkness of uncertainty loomed over their once blissful relationship, Y/N and Klaus were left to navigate the shadows of doubt and find a way back to each other. The storm of angst and heartache showed no signs of abating, leaving them with the ultimate question…could love conquer all or would the family's disapproval be too much to bear? 

A few months had passed without another confrontation from his siblings but that silence period was over today. The Mikaelson mansion stood in silence, its opulent halls shrouded in a heavy tension that seemed to seep into the very air. Y/N, the vibrant and spirited love of Klaus Mikaelson's life, felt the weight of disapproval from his siblings bearing down on her like a storm cloud. At 23, her heart beat fiercely with a passion for life, but to Elijah and Rebekah, she was nothing more than a youthful whirlwind that threatened the delicate balance they had carefully crafted. 

It was a chilly evening, and as Y/N wandered through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing emptily, she couldn't shake the sense of unease that seemed to linger around her. The disapproving glances, the hushed conversations that ceased when she entered a room— all of it gnawed at her soul. It had been months since she had embarked on a romantic journey with Klaus, a love that burned with an intensity she had never known before. But even that powerful connection couldn't shield her from the critical eyes of his siblings.

Rebekah's icy words had sliced through the air like a blade. “You're just a child, Y/N,” she had said with a condescending tilt of her head. “My brother deserves someone who understands the dangers of our world.”

And Elijah, the embodiment of elegance and poise, had looked at her with a mixture of pity and dismissal. “Klaus is not one to be taken lightly,” he had warned. “You need to be more mature, more level headed.”

Each word had etched itself into Y/N's heart, a constant reminder of her perceived inadequacy in the eyes of those she so desperately wanted to accept her. As she entered the living room, she found Klaus standing by the grand window, nursing a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. His gaze was distant, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and weariness. She approached him, her heart aching at the distance she felt growing between them.

“Klaus,” she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

He turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of conflict and affection. “Y/N,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

The silence that followed was heavy, a chasm that seemed to swallow their words before they could be spoken.

“I can't do this anymore love,” Klaus finally confessed, his voice breaking the stillness.

Y/N's heart shattered, the pain more intense than she could have ever imagined. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Klaus's gaze was tortured, his emotions warring within him. “Elijah and Rebekah,” he said with a sigh. “They won't accept us. They think you're too young, too impulsive.”

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. “And what do you think?” she choked out, her voice quivering.

Klaus reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek with tenderness. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “But I can't keep going against my family. It's tearing us apart.”

The pain in Y/N's chest was suffocating, a weight that threatened to crush her. “So, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I'm saying that we need to take a step back,” Klaus admitted, his voice barely audible. “Perhaps it's best for both of us.”

Y/N's heart shattered completely, and she took a step back, her eyes welling with tears. “You're choosing them over me?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Klaus's eyes filled with anguish, and he reached out to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. “Y/N…” he started desperately. “I love you, but I can't keep fighting this battle. I'm sorry sweetheart.”

The room seemed to close in around her, and Y/N turned and fled, her heartache echoing in the emptiness that surrounded her. Days turned into weeks, and the absence of Klaus felt like an ache that she couldn't escape. She could feel the weight of his absence in every corner of her life, a constant reminder of what once was.

As she stared out at the moonlit night, Y/N realized that love was not always enough to conquer the obstacles that life placed in its path. She had lost the man she loved, not because he didn't care, but because the world they lived in was too complicated, too tangled with expectations. lol She whispered his name into the night, her heart heavy with sorrow, Y/N learned that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures that threatened to tear their world apart. And in that painful realization, she felt the bittersweet ache of a love that had been both beautiful and heart wrenching—a love that would forever remain etched in her soul.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @madetragic @spike-and-angels-gf

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[orange-peony]

I've written something for @flufftober with today's prompt “I hate it” – “No, you don’t.”

It just screams drarry, and I've been thinking all day about this wonderful art piece by @caspervi.

This is exactly 1k, rated E, 8th year spin the bottle shenanigans and a very besotted Harry.

Draco is clearly not expecting him to cheat.

The thing is, Harry has grown a little desperate over the weeks. After spending every night in the same room as Draco Malfoy, listening to him turn in bed with endless sighs, and sometimes cast a very suspicious Muffliato right after Harry has come back from his shower completely naked and dripping wet.

Harry’s caught him looking, more than once.

He knows Draco’s been staring at him, just as much as Harry has. In lessons and in the Great Hall and in the eighth year’s common room. A silver gaze following him around the castle, cheeks flushing every time their eyes meet.

Harry’s had enough of lying to himself about what he wants. He almost lost everything—he’s already lost so fucking much. He can’t let this slip from his fingers.

So, when a drunk Zabini suggests a game of spin the bottle, Harry only agrees to it when Draco walks into the room. The bottle never lands on either of them—Harry makes sure of it.

“My turn,” he declares, everyone clearly too tipsy to object. Harry hasn’t had anything to drink, knows full well that Draco is just as sober. And when the bottle spins and spins and then lands on Draco, he watches pale cheeks flush a deep red.

Someone gasps next to him. Pansy shrieks, too loud and too obvious.

Draco stands up abruptly and runs to his room—their room.

Someone shouts coward, that it’s unfair, and wait, whose turn is it now?

Harry ignores everything and everyone and just follows Draco to their bedroom, locking the door behind his back once he’s inside, watching Draco’s grey eyes widen, his cheeks catch fire as he stands there, unmoving. Harry takes a step towards him, then another, until they’re almost touching.

“You cheated,” Draco accuses, sounding dumbfounded by his own accusation. “I could feel your magic, you—”

“I wanted it to land on you,” Harry explains stupidly. The truth is that he needed a reason to kiss Draco. One that wasn’t the fact that his heart’s been hurting at the thought of it for weeks now, craving it with all that he is, dreaming about Draco’s lips and about the sounds he would make for Harry—god, Harry wants to feel him shiver and pant against him.

Draco seems conflicted, his eyebrows quivering as his mouth opens and closes without a sound.

“I hate it,” he finally says, wetting his lips with his pink tongue, his eyes sliding down, lingering on Harry’s mouth.

“No, you don’t,” Harry murmurs.

He’s almost expecting Draco to tell him to fuck off and get lost, but then Draco huffs, his blond eyebrows knitting before he shakes his head and sighs.

“No, I fucking don’t,” Draco whispers, almost a whine, then, “Come here. Potter, c’mere—”

Harry thinks it’s impossible this could feel better than he imagined. But the taste of Draco’s lips, so sweet and soft and irresistible as they press to his and then open on a whimper, just for him. The way Draco moans against him, his long fingers sliding through Harry’s curls to tug at them and make him open his mouth more, to deepen the kiss—it all feels like a dream, and one of the best ones he’s ever had. The perfect little sounds Draco makes when Harry lowers him onto his bed, the way his lips part on a gasp when Harry kisses his way down his neck, sucking on that milky-white skin to make it bloom in pink and red hues while Draco falls apart under him. Harry wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t think he would get to have more than a kiss. And that already felt like asking for too much.

He most certainly wasn’t expecting Draco to open for him like a flower, delicate and quivering under Harry’s clumsy hands, spreading for him and making the most perfect sounds as Harry sinks into his tight heat, cursing at how blissfully good it feels, how utterly divine it is to be inside Draco.

And then later, lying on the bed next to him, watching Draco loose and sated, falling asleep with a contented hum after countless minutes spent talking about inconsequential things, because everything else felt too scary to be mentioned. A dream come true.

When Harry wakes up in the morning, too early and too bright, he realises Draco is still there, naked and covered in the marks Harry left on his delicate skin. Harry’s tie is stuck under his hand, Draco’s face buried in the duvet, as if he were hiding in his sleep. And Harry can’t stop staring, can’t stop thinking that he shouldn’t be so lucky because he always manages to fuck up everything, somehow.

But then Draco stirs, a flash of silver landing on Harry as a little sound leaves Draco’s lips, something soft and undone that threatens to make Harry’s heart crumble to pieces.

“Stop staring, you weirdo,” Draco mumbles. Harry casts a mouth-freshening charm on them both. Wishful thinking, he reckons, but Draco mutters minty before he lets his lips stretch into a tiny smile.

So Harry grows bold and leans forward, pressing their lips together one more time, hopefully not the last. Draco hums softly and reaches for him when they part, his fingers wrapping around Harry’s neck to pull him impossibly closer. And Harry can feel Draco’s hand lingering on his neck, then sliding down his chest, making him shudder before his fingers curl around his length.

“Want you,” Harry confesses, his breath hot against Draco’s mouth, that opens as a small laugh tumbles out of it.

“Not a one-night stand, then?” Draco asks, hope shimmering in his voice and on his face.

“Merlin, no,” Harry replies. He’s in for good. He’s in for his life, as scary as it seems.

“Good,” Draco replies with a smile, one of those genuine ones that Harry has learnt to cherish.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Draco confirms. “Kiss me.”

[insuke69]

“More of you to love, my darling.”

✰ Drabble of Hobie x tall!chubby!reader

You aren't small, by any means.

Its one thing being a tall skinny person, and it's be another thing being short and 'fat',

But you got stuck with the worst of both worlds, Chubby and tall. Not skinny enough to be able to wear anything comfortably low waisted but not curvy enough to be able to express these insecurities without being accused of seeking attention or being told how people would kill to look like you.

you were lucky to meet a man like Hobie--who is taller than you, loving, fun, overall perfect.

Maybe even too perfect..

He always tells you how much he loves you. he always says "You're beau'iful in my arms, darlin'."

Beautiful. That doesn't sound right, that is the oposite of what you've heard all your life. hollow complements of men oversexualizing your curves and beautiful smaller, thinner friends asking to borrow one of your jackets because it'd be 'cutely oversized' on them.

And it isn't that you're ugly either, you sometimes feel like the baddest bitch on the planet--before seeing the person in the mirror that makes you hate those rolls on your back. that pudgy stomach. the plump large hips that adorn the top of your squishy legs.

"What're you doing?" Hobie asked with a playful smirk as he looked over at you, you were trying on clothes you had bought online--biggest size and everything.

"These stupid jeans are meant to be baggy and shit but they fit me normally and don't even- zip!" you say back to him with slight exaspuration while trying to work the zipper of a pair of jeans that you really wanted to fit since they matched your style perfectly.

those jeans were too tight below your belly button and their supposedly baggy length fit you normally because of your height.

"Shh, sh. calm down, it's alrigh', we can return them and order the next size u-" He tried to tell you reassuringly as he walked over to you and put his hands on your waist.

"Thats not the point, these are already the biggest damn size." You groan as you suck in your stomach as much as you physically can to try and force the zipper closed or get the button through its designated hole.

"Woah, woah," He said as he put his hands over yours to stop you from forcing the fabric againts your skin and straining the material over your plump flesh. "We can go to the mall or something and get you jeans like these there, once we return these, get the money back and talk about whatever is actually bothering you." His tone is cool and calm while his hands start lowering the jeans from your hips to get them off of you.

He always knew that you would prefer to at least be shorter or at least thinner, while to him you're already beyond perfect. He hates going to the mall because of the branded clothing there that only further corrupts capitalism after every cent and here he is.

Offering that to you to make you happy <3

_______________________________

BE PATIENT WITH ME YALL IM BARELY A QUARTER DONE WITH P2 OF WHATS IN A NAME THIS DRABBLE IS TO KEEP YALL FED

[wannaeatramyeon]

Omg can u js imagine lookism characters fighting you and they end up getting their ass beat by u? Basically js encountering someone that has 10x their own strength and their reactions would be so funny😭😭😭

Have I imagined being the peak of every fandom I have participated in? Yes. Yes I have.

Meeting Lookism Peak... YOU

You are onepunchman-ing through the Lookismverse.

J High Trio

You definitely weren't siding with Logan Lee and Vin Jin (wtf) but this Daniel Park, Vasco and Zack were causing a lot of trouble and you just wanted everyone to stfu so you can get decent grades.

It got even worse when Logan and Vin flanked you and held your hand. What is this throupling? GET OFF ME.

Vasco muttered about you being a bad guy and threw the first punch. Sigh - stupid birds of a stupid feather stupidly flocking together and before long Zack and Daniel joined in.

The strongest guys in J High? Now lying in a heap in a corner. You? Not even a scratch.

You approached them with tears in your eyes: "please, I'm just trying to learn"

Johan

You've acquired 3 new pups: Eden, Miro and Johan

This motherfucker tried to steal your shoes. Who tf does that. You were just minding your own business and walking home so of course you beat his ass.

And since that day, Johan likes to follow you around in the hopes of copying some of your moves. Shame you're able to KO him so quickly he can't copy anything. He learnt his lesson after the 27th time and doesn't try to steal your shoes anymore. He still follows you in case someone else fights you and he gets to copy.

Big Deal

You're the son of Gapryong Kim? Who's that? I'm just minding my own business and got accused of stealing from this street. No I didn't! I didn't even go into that store. THIS IS MY SHIRT.

This random guy is trying to take your clothes from you..what you gonna do? There's perverts everywhere. You tried to play nice and dodge his attacks but enough is enough. You're sick of people trying to steal your clothes and just knock him unconscious with one hit.

Uhhh where is this actual place and why has he got so much back up? This is Big Deal? What are you guys saying you're a Big Deal or... Oh you're actually called Big Deal?! Lol, losers.

Great. Now you're getting attacked by this ponytail guy. Sinu? and his invisible attacks? What invisible attacks. You can see them all clearly. Stop that. It's annoying. Please just SIT. DOWN.

The person with the biggest beef would be the big bald guy though (seriously who brings their dad to a fight?!) Jerry would go absolutely feral when you knocked out Jake. He's no match but every time he saw you after you can just feel the hate radiating.

Eugene & Workers

Sorry to say but this man is boring af. He seen you beating up his 'Gun and Goo' (this will never not be funny) and tried to recruit you.

You're in school. You're not interested in fighting for no 'Workers'. Besides a 9-5 sounds unbelievably boring right now. Why would you want to work and have responsibility when you can mess around all day. Youth IS wasted on the young, this dumbass.

He'll leave you alone as long as you stay out of his way.

Gun & Goo:

These 2 would just Never. Leave. You. Alone.

They've got eyes and ears everywhere so probably heard about one of your past fights.

First they would try to fight you cos of course they would. But the fact that you're so insanely strong and stronger than them turns them from

To

The fact you are so strong? That you could no diff them? They're just literally like wtf. They have never encountered anyone like you. They didn't even know your strength and fighting skills were possible. You will never know peace again.

Gun is more diplomatic and tries to approach you whenever he can to be his successor and just wanting to know who and what you are. But ultimately he will be itching for a fight each time. You're tired of this guy ripping his clothes off and squaring up to you.

And Goo is a fucking menace. After turning down Goo once to be his secret friend, he's just waiting around every corner with a steel pipe.

Are flies constantly buzzing around not annoying? Looks like you're stuck having to beat these guys up now and then to get them to fuck off and give you some peace but they still always return.

Samuel:

Oh boy. This man and his inferiority complex. He heard Goo mention you just the once ONCE and he got all worried about his Secret Friend status.

He uses his resources to find out about you but you seemed to live a relatively normal and quiet life.

Sammy is still threatened though and goes after you with his brass knuckles. Ok first you had people stealing your shoes and clothes, now you have a third homicidal maniac coming after you. Maybe you should just move.

You feel bad when he starts to have a breakdown after you beat him up. Then that bastard tries to bite your ankles so 🤷🏻‍♀️

DG: I can tell you the secrets to your powers

You: I don't care man, fuck off

DG: jk idk anything lol

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[lanas-delight]

from across the room.

♫ rec: about you by the 1975

✰ an enhypen scenario || gen!reader x jake

✰ description — a disastrous break up, raging arguments, fading love, and what could’ve been.

✰ warnings — language, arguments, mention and accusations of cheating, and a LOT of angst.

✰ note — u guys dont know me yet but i have been told im a mastermind when it comes to writing angst 😍 (ive js made my friends cry with what ive written before lolz) anyways enjoy! 🤭😅

Relationships never lasted with you. It was never your fault exactly, it was either them not being ready for it or just plainly doing you dirty, but you always moved on. It never phased you much, any of it, though that was because all of those people before weren’t him.

His name was Jake. You met him exactly two years and 23 days ago. Your two year anniversary was 18 days ago. You loved him, and he loved you. Everything was good. You were already living together, which happened about seven months ago, but there hasn’t been any issues. Everything was good—until it wasn’t.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Jake huffs, falling back onto the shared bed of yours. “Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do, maybe more,” he was referring to the business trip he was being forced to go on for a few days. He leaves tomorrow, and he hated that he would have to leave you again. This wasn’t the first business trip he’s ever been on, especially lately. He had gone on seven the last two months alone. You kept count.

"When will you be back?"

"Saturday?" He sounded unsure. "I'll call you once we get there, though," and he sat on the bed, putting on his shoes and tying the laces before continuing to pack his suitcase. You didn't say a word, only sat beside his suitcase and in hopes to reassure you, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You, however, just sighed and looked over at his direction, your eyes avoiding his, earning a puppy-like look from him. "What?"

"You sure have gone on a lot of trips lately," you remark, though quietly. He stares at you as you continue, "I'm worried, Jake."

"About?"

A sudden twist in your stomach, you felt sick. "Nevermind, I'll sound stupid," but he sits with you, worried and concerned terribly.

"No, what is it?"

You sighed again.

"Talk to me, Y/N."

"Are you having an affair?"

Jake laughed. He laughed. "What?" He scoffed, "Why would I ever cheat on you? Are you insane?" Such a kind thing to say to your partner, but he took it back instantly. "I'm sorry. That wasn't nice. It's really just a business trip, Y/N," he tells you, "I only love you."

"But how can I trust you?" You stood up, apart from him as he watched you with furrowed brows. "You've gone on so many, so often, you—You barely call when you're gone. How am I supposed to be sure you're not in bed with someone else?"

"Y/N," he shook his head, "If you don't have trust, we—"

"We have nothing, right?" And you turned, "Nothing new," You then walked off but he followed you into the kitchen, his packing coming to a sudden halt as he tried to make things right with you before he would leave. You grabbed some of the dishes and started to hand-wash them, while he stood near you and tried to reason with you.

"You're being ridiculous," he tells you, a bit rudely, "Why won't you listen to me?" But you ignore him. "Y/N, please. I don't want to leave with us like this. I love you—"

"Then prove it," You turned to him suddenly, "Prove that you love me, because you don't. You sleep in our bed for a couple nights then you're off on another trip. You kiss me but there's no love. There's nothing. There's . . ." You sighed, "There's nothing between us anymore. Because of you."

Jake took a step back. "Y/N, what are you saying?"

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and looked through your photos, showing him a screenshot you had taken off of Jake's phone. Messages with a girl who you didn't recognize, but when you messaged the girl, she swore they were just friends, that she had a boyfriend. But even that won't stop a girl sometimes. You didn't know how to feel, you weren't even sure if the messages had the intent of an affair. It was innocent chatting, you thought, but the fact he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes then made you realize the truth. It wasn't innocent. It wasn't a surprise either.

"I don't know why you talk to her, tell her everything while you tell me nothing, but if she's what you want, then she can have you." You threw a pot down in the sink, creating a loud noise to echo through the kitchen and the rest of the apartment as you stormed out, grabbed your coat and slid on your uggs. "I'm going to F/N's," you say, seeing him appear in the hallway behind you. "Goodnight, Jake." The door slammed behind you and you left, leaving the love you had once for him behind.

He called twice, left a voicemail, and sent over 30 messages, explaining everything. He didn't have feelings for that other girl, though he didn't give you any reason to think otherwise so you left that night. You didn't want anything to do with him. Genuinely, you didn't. You didn't know if he had actually cheated, though he claimed he didn't and that he would never do that to you, but he opened up to that girl about things you never even knew an ounce about.

She did have a boyfriend, but it wasn't until a week later that she texted you, telling you that she did like your boyfriend, which caused her own boyfriend to dump her. It wasn't surprising to you at all.

You had been staying at your friend's house for the last week, so when you finally called him back, you only asked him if he had any feelings for that girl. He didn't say anything. He hesitated, but he said no. However, that wasn't enough for you. You hung up on him and texted him that you were through. You asked him to have his stuff out of your apartment by next Friday, which he agreed to.

But on that Friday, when he was taking the last of his stuff, he stopped and looked at you coldly, unsure what to say but spoke anyways. His voice deep and hurt, just like his heart, just like yours.

"You didn't fight for us," he told you, "You didn't even care to listen to what I had to say. You leave every time it gets hard, you blame me for everything I do, but what am I supposed to do when you won't even hear me out, Y/N?"

"I don't know," You stared back at him with crossed arms, "Maybe don't cheat on me?" You scoffed, but he couldn't believe you.

"Why do you have to brush me aside like that?" Jake questioned, "You never listened to me. Have you even considered the possibility that I didn't open up to you because you didn't give me the chance to?"

You unfolded your arms, but you took his words the wrong way. "Are you implying I made you cheat on me?"

But that enraged him. "I didn't cheat on you, Y/N!" He raises his voice, throwing his hands in the air defensively, "I talked to who I thought was my friend, about personal stuff because I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about it, so instead of just trusting me to tell you on my own, you go through my phone and accuse me of cheating on you."

"You hesitated," you threw it back in his face, "When I asked you if you liked her, you hesitated before saying no. You had to think about whether or not you liked another girl while you were with me. Do you not realize how pathetic that made me feel?"

"Do you not realize how pathetic you've made me feel?" Jake remarks, tears in his eyes, mirroring yours, "I'm the bad guy in every part of this story, Y/N, because you won't even give me the chance to explain myself. You keep dismissing me and ignoring me, but why won't you listen to me? I love you with all I have, Y/N."

But you wiped your tears, sniffling. "I never want to see you again."

His eyes grew wide, but he didn't fight against it. He grabbed the last of his stuff and left without another word spoken between you both.

There was a party. You didn't know anyone but your best friend, but as she had gone off with her boyfriend, you were now alone, sitting on the couch, drinking liquor out of some plastic cup. You wore a red dress, made of satin, with heels that weren't too high that your ankles wanted to break but not too flat that made you appear too different from everyone else. You didn't want to be different, easy to single out. You wanted to fit in, just like everyone else. But you weren't like everyone else. That was clear the moment he saw you.

The room was crowded. You could barely see over dozens of people piled into one room. Music blaring, dim lights as one of your favorite songs started to play. People were dancing, people were drinking, having a good time like there was no tomorrow. And there he was, standing by the wall. You could see him through the small spaces between people. His eyes were glued to his phone screen for a fleeting moment, one that felt a little too long until he suddenly met eyes with you and in response, you smiled at him from across the room, while your heart jumped out of your chest and you had never felt more noticed in your life.

He approached you soon enough, breaking the awkwardness with a little joke before he sat beside you and started an easy-going conversation with you about what you did for work, what he did for work, etc. The night ended with a lightly-sober kiss between you both, where he said something so beautiful to you that you swore it was engraved into you. He said, "You are so pretty when you smile, but when it was just at me, like I was the only person in that crowded room, I knew it was you that I'm going to fall for." Five days later, after a couple of sober dates, he was your boyfriend. And for two years, you promised yourself that he was the one. Until he wasn't.

You had a dream once, that you married Jake and had a family with him. You had a couple of dogs, ones he and the kids all named like Scout, Georgie, and Layla the 2nd. You had your dream job, as did he, and you were just so happy with him and the kids. He had built you your dream house, with a concrete pool and a beautiful backyard that the kids would run all over in with the dogs. He had always promised you that he would anything for you—build you a house, give you the family you wanted, be the husband you needed. You loved him with your entire being, and he felt the same way about you.

But it had been five years since the break up. You haven't heard from him in at least four years, and the last thing you were told, he was engaged to some new girl and was moving back to Australia after the wedding.

You had met someone else, too. You had only been dating for a few months now, nothing too serious just yet, but you were just getting used to being in a relationship again. You were taking it slow, not wanting to rush anything.

You didn't have feelings for Jake anymore. You haven't loved him in years. But there's a part of that wishes that fate would lead you back into each other's lives, single and open for a second chance. But that was never going to happen. You were never going to be the one he stares at from across the room, where you smile at him and start the love that should have lasted forever, but it never stood a chance. You had moved on, and so has he. The memories of what love gave you both lingers in your eyes, your mind, and for the rest of your life, you'll know that it just wasn't meant to be. From across the room, you'll stay, and regret ever smiling at him for he became the love of your life, just as quickly as you left him. It was over. But you were okay.

You had to be.

———————————————————————————————

A/N - sorry guys i felt like hurting feelings today mb

[chronicbeans]

I really love how you write Wally :)

Can you do one with the reader try’s to play video games with him? You can write about video game you want btw

Wally playing video games is something that increases my serotonin. It is time to make the ultimate semi crossover of funny, silly puppet man and the serious and (at points) sad Persona 5 Royal because I want to see Wally's reaction to those topics. Especially since he probably doesn't even know like... Half of what is going on.

So I guess spoilers for Persona 5 Royal. The game is explained so poorly in this that people will probably not understand anything (much like Wally), but there are still some spoilers.

Reader Playing Videogames with Wally Darling (mainly Persona 5 Royal, but others are mentioned):

🎮 So, it turns out Wally has a bit of trouble holding controllers. He only has three fingers and a thumb on both hands, as well as felt for skin. Most controllers just fall out of his hands, so he mostly just watches you play.

🎮 Wally CAN play games on a DS, Wii U, or other consoles that can be laid flat and controlled using a screen and stylist. Some of his favorite are any Pokemon games that let you play with the Pokemon (he hates making them fight, so he makes you go out and catch them for him. Also, he'll have you play through the story because of the fighting), Nintendogs (he always names his dogs Barnaby. He has Barnaby, Barnaby 2 and Barnaby 3...), and Super Mario 3D Land.

🎮 Mist of the times, he just watches you play the games. Ever since you got Persona 5 Royal, though, he has been on an emotional rollercoaster. He doesn't understand even HALF of what is happening. Like... WHY ARE PEOPLE BEING SO MEAN? He doesn't know what they are doing, but they know they are being mean because people in the game are reacting with like... Horror once they find out. At least you fix them in the end? And the art is good!

🎮 Your character is also cool! He doesn't understand why people don't like you? What is a "probation"? Wait, you committed a crime?! No, people just think you did? HUH? A politician accused you of it? What's a politician?

🎮 You make a lot of friends, though, and fight the bad guys! Even one of the people you fight becomes a friend! Her name is... Futaba Sakura? Her name sounds cool! Along with all the characters' names! She didn't seem so mean, though, so he doesn't understand why you fought her or why she wanted you to. She kinda reminds Wally of himself in a few ways, to be honest.

🎮 Then the ending and the second ending after that is really cool! When he saw that like... one bad guy you fought that was like... keeping the weird second versions of people in prison? He was kinda like "Woah! He looks so big and scary! Wow! I don't even know what is happening, still! Yippee! 😁" Then there was the guy who was your... uhh... counselor! Yeah, counselor! He seemed more like Futaba in that he didn't seem so bad. He still doesn't understand why making a world where everybody is happy forever is bad. Even if it is fake, everybody is happy! That's how all stories should end! Right? At least that counselor guy had a slightly happy ending, though!

[mrs-monaghan]

https://twitter.com/ssarahthun/status/1677310608700571648?t=X099Wvttmiv7rKHkbP302g&s=19

So its confirmed. Now let me grab my popcorn and watch the insecure jikookers crying.

I don't care about others, but i hate insecure onces. Like if they're not sure then why tf they are a jikooker by themselves. I know what's a job and why people do their job

Let's just support jk instead of being nosy 💀

Idk why this girl is calling her "bestie" when she doesn't know her but okay 😂😂 first of all I was so shocked to see how young she is 👀 i didn't expect her to look that young. Anyway, it don't matter. Ignore the wishy-washys my lovely. They suck and they will always suck no matter what.

The way I hate them is not even funny 😂😂

Anyway, I just wanna remind fellow Jikookers to watch themselves... just... watch yourselves. SEVEN and JJK1 is a test. I repeat this is a test. Time to find out if you really love BOTH Jimin AND JK like u claim.

Just now. Today. This was happening.

This account tried to message them and once she dropped the name Jimin, the convo was halted.

But when she asked about another member/singer suddenly Spotify had the answers??

Like, even those who accuse us of conspiracy theories have to find something wrong with this picture.

We spent like 2 hours tagging Spotify to correct this error and they finally did. But why did it have to happen in the first place?????

Meanwhile JK's promotion pictures are still popping up all over the world.

And as suspected, JK will get radio play in the US among a million other things other members did not get. Jimin, did not get. This DJ whoever he is just confirmed this

Kanmom has more here.

I already talked about this very sensitive topic here. Reminded everyone that this is not JK's fault. He has nothing to do with what the company does for him or didn't do for Jimin. JK did not concentrate on FACE as much as he did for no reason. He knows, just like we do, the company didn't do the most for Jimin. The least we can do, is give this man credit where it's due. He tried to support Jimin as much as he could. If he could grab Jimin, throw him over his shoulder and run from BH, he would. But alas!

We'll do good to remember JK is not BH. He is not Hybe. So are you a Jikook supporter or are you a Jimin solo?

Jikookers, I ask; do you love both Jimin and JK?

[dsaf-confessions]

I have two of them

1: Steven x Peter isn't that bad honestly. Imo at least. It doesn't deserve the amount of hating it gets. 'But Steven ruined Peter's life by sending him to become a phone guy' the games go out of their way to show and even directly tell you that phone guys are slaved people who are brought back from the dead and forced to do as their programming says. Steven isn't an expert or anything he's just as slaved as the others were. And while he does say 'I hope u can forgive me for this' which kinda means that he knew it was bad? But honestly I still don't blame it on him fully. From my understanding phone guys are only capable of going 'against' (for lack of better word) their programming only if they have some humanity or memories when they were alive, which I dont think Steven does, in both dsaf1 & 3 hes fully convinced that he's Scott Cawthon and only remembers that he isnt after literally being forced to. 'they hate eachother' I've replayed all the dsaf games and I can't find anything confirming that. Steven obviously regrets what he did and wants to make it right to not just Peter, but everyone else as well. Peter and Steven don't interact much, but Peter hasn't said anything mean about Steven once. The only thing that implies this is Peter's line of Jack saving even those who don't deserve it. But honestly he never said it was about Steven. For all we know he could had been referring to Dave or hell even himself. 'Its boss x employee which would be toxic by realistic standards' ok I see your point but why compere realistic standards to fucking dsaf? You know what else would be incredible toxic by realistic standards too? Davesport. But the fandoms not ready for that talk.

Speaking of davesport

2: Davesport is hellaaaaaaa overrated. I get why people ship it. It has much potential. But honestly it's the only thing the fandom talks about and Im getting tired of it. Where's my Steven contact? Where's my Peter or Dee contact? Where's the phone guys, Henry, Jacktrap or hell even Davetrap contact? Where's the angst connect on the Kennedy siblings? The only endings this fandom talks about are like the Gnarly Endings even tho I think the good ending and pure evil endings in dsaf2 are much better better than the gnarly end. Contact of the legacy routes are almost non existent ESPECIALLY on the legacy route of 2 and when there's is. It's davesport angst. How about we make angst about how Jack literally kills his motherfucking sister that he literally died for in an even more curler dsaf3 legacy route. I also hate how much the fandom mischaracterizes it. No they aren't uwu gay boys, no they don't have a perfect relationship. Their relationship is fucking unhealthy, flawed and bittersweet. (No Im not saying davesport is a pr*ship don't accuse me of that, although it's an unhealthy relationship it's not an ab**ive one). Dave literally stalks Jack, he has cameras on his house for the real Fredbear's sake. Yes I know they're treated like jokes, yes I know that Jack doesn't seem to mind, yes I know that Dave & Jack ARE capable of being in a somewhat normal relationship, with Flipside Dave at least. But still that's not healthy. They are literally willing to kill eachother if they're opposite! Those are two dead courses that have been stripped almost completely out of all their humanity thanks to that pink fuck Henry. Obviously they won't be sweet and caring to eachother or anyone really. If you like Davesport at the very least actually protey it correctly.

This is coming from someone who doesn't even ship Steveter (that's what I'll call the ship) and loves Davesport btw

.

[chcrryade]

CHERRYADE: TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE? Song Kyumin. Jul 1, 2021.

JAGUAR have emerged from their two-year period of almost complete radio silence with news that has shocked many—or perhaps a little less than many, because you can’t really expect to rise from the dead and still have millions of fans at your beck and call, ready to lap up any scraps you throw them. A new boy group is on the way, and their name is CHERRYADE. Something too sweet to drink all in one go, but too carbonated to sit on the tongue comfortably after just one sip. It seems rather on-brand for a company that has so far fed us one group that hated each other’s guts, one soloist who kicked the chair after one (1) album that tanked, and a duo who I’m still not sure were hate-fucking or making attempts on the other’s life every time the camera turned.

This time, though, they’re not unveiling their (sure-to-be devastatingly attractive) members one-by-one from wherever they’d been hiding them, as per the last three attempts. Neither are they shoving their undebuted faces in our faces with countless social media accounts or endlessly boring introduction videos. Instead, JAGUAR have made the decision to protect the idol-environment and reuse some of our past favourites, taking them from one unknown group to another. Aren’t we lucky.

This isn’t a new (or even particularly exciting) concept. You may recognise the formula from STRMRUNNER Media, who chose trainees from only the top companies to shove together in a now-superstar group named SO(U)L. JAGUAR CEO Ae Seungdae must have witnessed the success the seven have seen and decided he wanted a piece of the pie. They even share the same amount of members. But I doubt they’ll be greeting each other at any music shows or posting any cutesy selcas on Twitter, because some of the boys selected for this ‘supergroup’ of sorts aren’t known to be the nicest.

First, JAGUAR reached out to FNC and asked if they would miss SLOW MOTION’s leader KIL DOYEON terribly. The answer must’ve been no, as he’s rumoured to be the appointed leader of CHERRYADE also. Next on the list was METRONOME MEDIA’s DUAN JIEYANG (more commonly known as DJ) and JEON HAEIL from almost-forgotten group ALGORHYTHM, who had been in hot water previously for alleged physical fights breaking out between leader DAEHOON and youngest LEVI—who, funnily enough, left the group and ended up in SLOW MOTION not long after.

The higher-ups didn’t have to look too hard for the next couple of members, as they were right there in their pockets anyway. QIAO YIJUN and AHN JAEHEE (once an actor) from BONSOIR were next on the roster, and the general consensus on that was that it was certainly an.. interesting choice to make. They were the two that seemed to despise each other the most, after all. 

Next is one that may surprise some. HWAN MINHUI (or GOGO, as many know and love him as) was recruited from SM’s smallest sub-unit NCT DRIFT. Reactions were mixed, but the largest question of all was why. Alas, it doesn’t seem like JAGUAR is going to be holding a press conference anytime soon to answer that burning inquiry. There’s far too much on their plates for that, what with trying to get all these complete strangers to act civil with each other and all.

The last member of CHERRYADE is the only new face that we’re receiving. Not much is known about him except his name, LEE HASUN, and that he’s the youngest of the lot. Let’s hope he doesn’t receive the same treatment as JAEHEE did, because otherwise this ‘supergroup’ might last even less time than all of JAGUAR’s other ventures combined. And we wouldn’t want that, of course. Or would we?

Whatever the public may think of them, the one thing that is certain is that JAGUAR won’t care. Their age old motto of ‘any press is good press’ has lasted them far too long for them to be doing anything like reassessing their values or realigning their morals. Hell, some have even been saying that accused nepo baby BONSOIR manager HONG JAEYOUNG has found his new place as CHERRYADE’s handler, so from that alone it doesn’t sound like they’re going to be off to a spectacularly great start public-opinion wise.

The group are making their debut on August 1st, 2021—a mere month from now. What they’re releasing is still a mystery (a single? An EP? A mini-album? I’m as clueless as you are), but what we do know is that it’s going to be called DOUBLE DIP. I can vaguely glean the concept they’re going for from the name alone. Teeth-rotting, sugary goodness. The type of stuff that makes your mouth feel heady and vision swim. Or your ears bleed, depending on your opinion on the type of music that JAGUAR has put out thus far. Their styling seems to be heading in the same direction, as the explosion of colour that makes up their seconds-long teaser video is reminiscent of a handful of candy scooped up into the hands of an eager child.

CHERRYADE marks JAGUAR’s fourth attempt at an idol presence. Most of the hard work has been done for them, what with them lifting most of the members from other groups, but that in no way means they won’t meet the same failed fate as all of their predecessors. I feel that most deciding to follow the group will be doing so more out of morbid curiosity rather than genuine excitement for the content they’ll produce, and music they’ll put out. Right now they seem more like a ticking time bomb set to explode in an array of violently bright colours and burnt sugar than a group of boys that’ll be loved by the masses.

But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe CHERRYADE will be the success JAGUAR has so sorely been wanting, and for more reasons than how many times they’ve been caught smoking or leaving shady love hotels in the earliest hours of the morning. Maybe the seven will actually grow to like each other, and they’ll replace the previous reputation they held—of catty and spiteful boys who were there for the money and to make the lives of people they didn’t like as unpleasant as possible—with one that paints them as genuine, likeable people. We’ll just have to wait and see.

DOUBLE DIP. Whatever it turns out to be, it’s dropping August 1st, 2021, at 2PM KST. Do make sure to tune in, if you want to see what all the fuss is about.

Or don’t. I suppose I wouldn’t blame you.

got thoughts? ⠀ mentioned @syoul

[dramioneasks]

Hi! I was wondering… is there any fic where Harry is really possessive of Hermione it can be just a possessive friend or secret crush and when he learns about dramione things go nuclear (?) or something like that.

THANK U 🤍

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale - T, 111 chapters, Words: 237,679 - Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts…. Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven’t talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can’t.

Lost Souls of Nott Castle By: mezy - M, 44 chapters, Words: 125,761 - Everyone lost something in the war. Some of them lost everything. Hermione had nothing left. No family. No friends. Until she finds everything she ever needed amongst the most unlikely of people. Together they will face adversity, battle inner demons and navigate their futures. Rated M, EWE, Friendship, Romance, Action, Mystery, Dramione

Broken by inadaze22 - E, 37 Chapters - Draco felt something close to pity for the woman in front of him. While that disturbed him to no end, what really disgusted him was the fact that something had broken Hermione Granger’s spirit beyond recognition.

His Favourite Muggleborn by FranceHufflepuff - M, 15 chapters - 2004. Harry Potter could not help but stick his nose to where it doesn’t belong. He discovered that Hermione’s Slytherin friends had invented a powerful and advanced time-turner that could take someone back up to thirty years. He planned a raid at the Malfoy residence to confiscate it. He had a confrontation with a very angry Hermione Granger-Malfoy. A confrontation that led to an argument. An argument that led to yelling and fighting. And the exchange of spells led to her unconsciousness. She had travelled back in time and found herself in her childhood home with her parents, in her eleven-year-old self. She sobbed, realizing that she was no longer an adult, and Draco wasn’t around. She hated Harry Potter. After everything she did for him after she had forgiven him for abandoning her when she needed him the most, he still could not trust her judgment. He could no longer trust her, either, since she became friends with Slytherins and dated their schoolyard bully. She swore she wouldn’t be friends with him anymore. Not this time.

Once Lost but Found Again by Graendoll - E, 3 chapters - Draco left her bed in the middle of the night four months ago and they’ve been apart ever since. Frankly, he’s sick of it. *** “Draco Malfoy, stop behaving as though you’re an idiot. I know you have a brain in there. Please elect to use it.” “Good lord, Granger, are you ill? Did you just accuse me of having a brain?”

Familiar Taste of Poison - Shananigans10 - M, 12 chapters - Hermione, bookstore owner know-it-all is approached by the extremely wealthy and highly desired Draco in hopes that she will aid him with his research. Danger, uncertainty and passion ensues as Hermione is targeted by an unknown person who is threatening her very existance. Will she make it out alive? Dark!Harry non-con mentioned

The Promise By: JoJo4 - M, 16 chapters - Draco promised to return to Hermione, but two years later she has lost faith. When he finally he reenters her life, why is she left only with questions? Complete.

-Lisa

[l3m0ncyan]

Heyy can you maybe write something about moonboys with a reader who was lots of religous trauma (catholic) if u feel comfortable doing so.

AN: Hey! Sorry about taking too long but I finally had time to write your request! I kinda wrote a mix of catholicism and Christianity when I did this so I hope I still nailed it with what you were looking for

Summary: After being kicked out of your religious parent's home, you reply to a flyer looking for a roommate from Steven Grant. Fast forward to the present, you find yourself going out on a date, but anxiety consumes you when Marc and the alters witness you kissing your date.

The reader is non-binary and queer in this

Warnings: hinting of homophobia, panic attacks, anxiety, ANGST/COMFORT

======================

You trudged down the busy sidewalk, your steps heavy and slow. Your backpack was heavy on your back, and the bag full of clothes in your hand didn't make things any easier.

You felt as though you were moving through a thick fog, lost in thought and barely aware of your surroundings. Your mind was consumed by a single question: how did you end up here?

It wasn't until you stopped at a red light that you remembered. The memories flooded back to you all at once, overwhelming you. You closed your eyes and tried pushing them away, but they persisted. The shouting, the tears, the slammed doors. The final confrontation that had led to you being thrown out of your own home.

Your heart raced as you stood in the living room, your parents' accusing stares fixed on you. Your mother's face was twisted in anger, and your father's expression was one of disgust.

"How could you do this to us?" your mother spat, her voice seething with rage. "Do you think this is what the lord wanted!?"

You stood frozen, your mind reeling as you tried to comprehend what was happening. You had known that your parents were devout Catholics, but you didn’t expect them to react so harshly to the news of who you were attracted to.

"I'm sorry," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your mother's hand flew out, slapping you hard across the face. You stumbled back, your cheek stinging from the impact. Your father stepped forward, his voice low and menacing.

"We won't have a fag of a child," he growled. "You're not welcome here anymore. You leave tonight. Come back when the lord has banished that demon in you"

Tears streamed down your face as you gathered your things, your parents' hateful words ringing in your ears. As you stepped out into the cold night air, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

You opened your eyes again, taking a deep breath and looking around. The city bustled around you, indifferent to your pain. But you couldn't afford to stop and wallow in self-pity. With a heavy heart, you continued on your way, your mind still weighed down by the painful memories.

As you walked down the street, you couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. It was crazy to think that one short kiss could have changed your life so drastically.

“So stupid,” you mumbled.

Despite the pain and anger you felt, you couldn't help but find some humor in the situation. It was like something out of a bad movie, a clichéd plotline about a teenager who rebelled against their parents' wishes.

The sound of a car horn jolted you out of your thoughts, and you hurriedly crossed the street, feeling the weight of your backpack dragging you down.

Continuing along the path of London, the concrete sidewalk felt unforgiving against the soles of your feet. Every step made your feet ache, and you were grateful to stumble upon the familiar sight of the library. Its grand entrance welcomed you with open arms, and you could feel a wave of relief wash over you.

As you stepped inside, the scent of aged leather and paper wafted through the air. It was a comforting smell, one that reminded you of the countless hours you had spent here before. The library had always been a sanctuary for you, a place where you could escape from the turmoil of the outside world.

You made your way to a secluded corner, away from the prying eyes of strangers. The couch you settled into was plush and inviting, with swirling designs that seemed to soothe your frayed nerves. You sank into the cushions, grateful for the momentary respite from the harsh realities of life.

One thing that you were surprised with was how your parents didn’t bother taking your phone. They probably thought you would infect them with such queer thoughts. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the small joke you made in your mind.

You knew that living on the streets was not sustainable, especially with the unpredictable London weather. Pulling up the browser on said phone, you searched for flatmate postings in the area.

As you scrolled through countless ads, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hopelessness. Most places were too expensive or too far from where you needed to be.

It seemed like your search was fruitless until you stumbled upon a flyer for a room in a shared flat.

You read the description and noticed that the person even added a bio for themselves. Which seemed helpful. Turns out it was a man who was around his 30s by the name of Steven Grant.

Reading his traits, it seemed like he fancied Egypt and was sort of awkward from the way he wrote his sentences. As if he was hesitant. It was probably a red flag, especially since he seemed like he was twice your age.

But then again, what was the harm? You still had your job and could always leave if things didn't work out.

You typed out a message, introducing yourself and expressing interest in the room. You tried not to think too much about the age difference, telling yourself that it was just a temporary living situation.

As you hit send, a wave of nervousness washed over you. What if he was a creep? What if he didn't like you? What if it was all a mistake?

You decided to distract yourself by looking around the library. Your eyes landed on a bookshelf filled with classic novels, and you couldn't resist the urge to pick one up.

As you flipped through the pages, you felt yourself getting lost in the story. The sound of your phone buzzing broke you out of your trance, and you quickly checked the message.

To your surprise, Steven had responded quickly, and he seemed friendly and genuine in his response. You smiled to yourself, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in a long time.

You quickly jotted down the address, feeling a glimmer of hope. It wasn't much, but it was a start. You knew that you had to take action and make things happen for yourself.

Packing up your things, you made your way out of the library and back onto the busy streets. The grey sky had turned into a light drizzle, and you could feel the droplets hitting your face.

–

As you stood in front of the red brick building, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. It was a humble structure, decent enough for someone to live there. However, with the cold London air wrapped around you, the building looked like a sanctuary in your eyes.

Your pressed the button corresponding to the apartment number Steven Grant had provided. Soon enough the intercom cracked to life and his flowed through the speaker. It was a soft British tone, tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Hello? Is that… uh, Y/N?" Steven's voice came through, slightly stammering. The uncertainty in his tone mirrored your own, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection in that shared vulnerability.

"Yeah, it's me," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm here for the room. We've been talking online?"

“Yes! I remember,” he said, “I’ll buzz you in, take the elevator to the fifth floor and well so on”

With each word from Steven's voice, you could sense a genuine warmth and kindness. It made you feel a little more at ease as you approached the building's entrance. The door clicked open, granting you access to the building's interior.

Opting for the elevator, you stepped inside, noticing the worn-out state of its mirrored walls. It wasn't the most glamorous elevator, but you weren’t about to turn back just because of this

The soft chime of the elevator announced your arrival, and the doors opened to reveal a hallway with green carpeting and red-bricked walls.

You followed the hallway, your footsteps muffled by the carpet, until you reached the designated door, you knocked.

As the door swung open, revealing Steven Grant, you couldn't help but notice the details that made up his appearance.

His tousled dark brown curls framed his face, and the barely noticeable eye bags beneath his eyes hinted at a life filled with worries and late nights. He wore a button-up shirt with a subtle blue pattern and grey jeans. His body language was a rather timid one. Yet he still managed to hold a warm smile.

“Hello, you must be Y/N. I am Steven. Steven Grant to be exact, but you probably already know that by now” he smiled sheepishly.

You smiled back and he offered his hand to shake which you obliged. He invited you in and spent the time introducing each other. After getting to know each other, he showed you your room and left you alone to rest.

---

Time passed swiftly, and before you knew it, two years had gone by since you first moved in with Steven. The bond between you two had grown stronger with each passing day. What began as a mere arrangement of roommates had blossomed into a genuine friendship.

Steven, with his kind and gentle nature, had made you feel comfortable and welcomed from the very beginning. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time to chat and get to know you better. You shared stories, discovered you two had a few things in common, and bonded.

In the daily routine of your lives, you found a rhythm. Steven worked long hours, often returning home exhausted from his job at the museum.

On those days, you took it upon yourself to prepare a comforting meal, a small gesture of gratitude for his hospitality. And on his days off, he would take charge of the kitchen, preparing delicious meals for the two of you to enjoy.

Beyond the confines of your flat, you explored the city together, whether it was a simple movie night in or a trip to buy essentials for the apartment. These moments of shared companionship filled your days with warmth and laughter.

It was during this time, after months of living together, that Steven finally revealed his unique condition to you. With a mix of worry and relief, he shared that he had a disorder that allowed him to have alters—different personalities within the same body. Rather than being frightened or turned away, you found it intriguing and accepted it without hesitation. Your acceptance meant the world to Steven, and he introduced you to his alters, Marc Spector and Jake Lockley.

Marc, the original owner of the body, and Jake, who primarily appeared at night, treated you with the same kindness and respect that Steven did. They became like older brothers to you, providing support and friendship without judgment.

Yet, despite the close bond you had formed with Steven and his alters, you still kept a secret from them. The reason behind your search for a roommate remained unspoken. You simply alluded to problems at home, and thankfully, they never pressed for further details.

In a surprising turn of events, they eventually revealed one of their greatest secrets to you - their alter egos were vigilantes, harnessing the powers of an Egyptian god named Khonshu. Initially shocked by this revelation, you couldn't fathom that your best friend had powers. Steven had to make you a cup of tea as you sat on the couch trying to wrap your head around this special truth.

In the end, though, you found it actually awesome and kept him and the others up with your many questions.

—

It was now June and being an almost young adult has brought you more stress. With all the shifts you have taken plus class work, Steven and the others can almost see the white hairs on your scalp.

Opening the door to the flat, you sat your belongings on the small wooden table and walked over to the couch. You practically threw yourself on it, putting your head back on the head rest. You heard a few pops as you did.

As you tried resting, the feeling of your phone buzzing for a second made you lift your head.

Taking a look at the lock screen, you saw the name of the one person who seemed to be the one to make you the happiest person in the world.

Just seeing their name gave you butterflies.

As you were about to open the message, a gust of wind and the sound of a window opening caught your attention.

The crisp breeze carried the sounds of the bustling city into the flat. Without even needing to glance in that direction, you knew it was Marc, or Moon Knight, making his entrance. The distinct outfit he wore and the grunts of effort were unmistakable.

Quickly, you put your phone away, attempting to hide it by slipping it into the pocket of your sweater. You don’t know why but it made you terrified if Marc or the others knew who you might have fallen for.

As Marc finally managed to squeeze himself through the window, he landed "gracefully" on the floor. His eyes scanned the room, and his gaze briefly met yours. He offered a small nod of acknowledgment before proceeding to make his mask disappear and soon his suit, revealing his familiar face beneath.

"Long day?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of teasiness. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic cup from the cupboard.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Yeah, it's been hectic. Work, classes… feels like I'm juggling a hundred things at once. How about you?"

"Oh, you know how it is. The usual patrol, taking down some low-level criminals, and listening to the bird screech every few seconds. Nothing too out of the ordinary." he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed the pint that sat on the dining table, poured water into his cup, and proceeded to take a sip.

You nodded, faking your interest in his day being a vigilante while your mind secretly wandered back to the message that still awaited your attention.

“Have you eaten?” Marc makes his way towards the couch, looming over your side.

You shake your head and give a simple ‘no’. Marc nods and hums but Steven becomes worried. Something that you have gotten used to.

“Are you hungry?” he asks once he takes control of the body, “I can cook us some dinner”

“I’m good, you go ahead and eat. I think I’m going to get some sleep” you say as you begin to get up and stretch.

Steven, sensing the fatigue in your voice, stepped towards your view, his brows furrowing with worry.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? I could whip up something quick and light," he insisted, his nurturing nature shining through.

You shook your head, trying to push aside the fatigue that weighed heavily on your shoulders. "Thanks, Steven, but I really just need some rest. We can eat dinner tomorrow, yeah?," you assured him, grateful for his concern.

Steven hesitated but gave a quick nod. With a heartfelt "good night," you left the living room and retreated to your room.

You shut the door behind you and kicked off your shoes and placed them to the short shoe rack you bought a while ago. Not bothering to change out of your work clothes, you immediately took out your cellphone front the pocket of you sweater and clicked on the message that waited on your lock screen.

The messaging app opened the chat with a new message. As your eyes scanned the words, a smile slowly formed on your lips, stretching wider.

They had invited you to the local festival in London, and the thought of spending a day together filled you with excitement. Indulging in delicious food, and maybe even strolling hand in hand made your heart skip a beat.

Quickly you replied and hit send. It didn’t take long for you to get a reply, one that ended with a heart emoji. It felt too good to be true.

However, a familiar sense of anxiety began to creep in. The fear of Steven and the others judging and rejecting you weighed heavily on your heart.

Even though after all the kindness they shown you and offering you a safe space and unwavering support, the pain left from your past made it difficult to fully let go of the fear.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice that you were biting your nails until now. With a sigh, you brought your hand down and clenched it into a fist.

"I need to calm down," you tell yourself.

Taking in a deep, calming breath, you reminded yourself that for now, you would simply tell Steven and the others that you were going out with a friend.

But as your mind wandered further, a new wave of uncertainty washed over you. What would happen when you and your crush became official?

Leaving the thought to marinate in your mind, you settled back on your bed, the weariness of the day finally catching up to you. As you closed your eyes, sleep enveloped you.

-

Looking out the window of your room, the sight of the setting sun cast a warm orange glow across the sky. From what you felt from the breeze coming through the window, you can tell your date was going to have the perfect weather.

Making sure you had all your essentials, you stepped out of your room and gently closed the door behind you. Expecting the others to be out, you quietly glided through the living room towards the front door of the apartment, eager to begin your evening.

However, just as you were about to make your exit, a gruff voice chimed in from the kitchen, momentarily halting your progress. “Y honde vas con tanta prisa?”.

*"And where are you going with such a rush?"*

You turned to see Jake, one of Steven's alters, leaning casually on the dining table. He held a mug of coffee in his hand, his trademark cab driver's hat adding a touch of character to his appearance. It was a rare sight to see him up and about at this time, usually only crossing paths with him during late-night snack runs.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected presence. Gathering your composure, you mustered up a casual tone and replied, "Oh, I'm just going out with a friend to that festival that's been happening. Should be fun."

Jake let out a thoughtful 'hmm' and nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright, have fun," he said in his distinct Spanish accent, taking a sip of his coffee. His brief response hinted that he knew there was more to your plans than what you were revealing.

Feeling a mixture of relief and curiosity, you offered a small smile and replied, "Thanks, Jake. I'll see you later," before turning back towards the front door.

“Don’t count on it,” is the last thing you hear before you shut the door.

You make your round from the elevator, to the lobby, and finally to the outside of the apartment complex.

-

The trip to the festival location was quick, and before you knew it, the cab dropped you off in front of the entrance. Two poles held up a banner displaying the festival's name, and your excitement grew as you took in the vibrant scene before you. Colorful carps fluttered in the air, and the aroma of various cuisines filled your senses. The lively music and the buzz of conversation and laughter added to the festive atmosphere.

Before entering, you took a moment to pull out your phone and let your date know that you had arrived. As you glanced around the crowd, searching for any familiar faces, you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

Turning around, your heart skipped a beat as you saw your date standing there with a warm smile. Their well-put-together outfit only made you fall for them more.

"Hey, you look amazing," they complimented, their words sending a pleasant tingle down your spine.

Blushing slightly, you replied with a grateful "Thanks," appreciating their kind words. They gestured towards the festival and asked if you were ready to head in.

With a quick nod, you both began walking towards the entrance, their hand gently holding onto yours. The touch sent a wave of warmth and comfort through you, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection.

As you walked together, they glanced at you with a gentle expression. "So we don't lose each other," they said, their words laced with a touch of playful concern.

You tried your best to hide your growing blush, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied, "Okay,"

-

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Marc sat on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the television. With the sun having gone down and nothing else to occupy his time, he welcomed the break. However, the peace was short-lived as Steven and Jake's conversation echoed in the headspace.

"I'm telling you, I can always tell when someone is lying," Jake asserted confidently to Steven.

Curiosity piqued, Steven responded eagerly, "Oh, do you believe Y/N is going on her first date? I wonder why she didn't tell us. We could have offered our help."

Jake's reply dripped with sarcasm, "Yes, we could have been so helpful. With your track record of missing dates, and Marc’s of telling Layla he wants a divorce before vanishing into thin air. Yes, we're the experts."

Defending himself, Steven huffed, "I could have still provided some assistance. Besides, I'm sure you've had your fair share of dates while you're out and about as Moon Knight."

Jake's response hinted at a different topic, "I got straight to the point with my 'dates'."

Steven was taken aback, his voice filled with surprise, "…I won't ask for details. But maybe you could have given them some advice and shared your methods for making dates go well."

"I'm not going to tell my strategies for getting women into bed to a young person," Jake argued.

Steven persisted, his curiosity getting the better of him, "Bloody hell, is that what you did when we blacked out?!"

Flipping to a channel reporting breaking news, Marc quickly shushed the ongoing conversation between Steven and Jake, raising the volume of the TV.

The broadcast displayed a blurry image of a large creature with glowing white eyes, seen prowling the streets of London. According to the report, the sighting had occurred just an hour ago.

"Shit, I thought we got rid of the jackals," Marc muttered under his breath, his expression tense.

Steven's worry was evident as he responded, "Guess not all of them."

Jake, usually reserved, suddenly pointed something out from the picture. "Look," he said, gesturing towards the background. The frozen image revealed the silhouette of what appeared to be a ferris wheel and colorful lights.

Realization dawned on Steven, his voice filled with concern. "Wait, isn't that the festival Y/N is at?"

Without hesitation, Marc stood up and headed towards the coat hanger, grabbing his jacket. "We need to go find her," he stated firmly, the other alters nodding in agreement, their determination silently shared

-

As you strolled through the festival, enjoying each other's company, you immersed yourselves in the vibrant atmosphere. The dark sky was illuminated by the moon and the colorful lights, casting a magical glow over the surroundings. The cool breeze carried the tantalizing aroma of various food stalls, tempting your senses.

You and your date had experienced much of what the festival had to offer. From sampling treats from different stands to enjoying live music performances, every moment was filled with joy and laughter.

However, your favorite memory was the enchanting ride on the ferris wheel, where you shared breathtaking views of the city of London.

Now, as you continued to walk hand in hand, your companion led you to a mesmerizing sight—a large electronic tree adorned with hanging vines that emitted a soft, ethereal glow. The scene reminded you of the mystical Tree of Souls from the movie Avatar.

In the midst of this enchanting moment, you felt your phone vibrate with incoming messages. Glancing at it briefly, you saw that Marc had sent a message.

Deciding it could wait, you slipped your phone back into your pocket, fully immersing yourself in the magical ambiance of the festival and cherishing the time you had left with your date.

- As Marc rushed through the bustling festival, his eyes darted around in search of his roommate among the sea of people. Determined to find them, he skillfully maneuvered through the crowd, pushing past groups of festival-goers.

Steven anxiously asked if you had replied yet. Marc quickly retrieved his phone and checked the messaging app, only to find that the message was still marked as "delivered."

Frustration welled up within him, and he let out an exasperated groan. "They better be having the time of their life if they're not answering," Marc grumbled under his breath.

Refusing to be distracted, Marc continued his search, his eyes scanning the festival grounds. Suddenly, Jake's voice broke through the noise, drawing Marc's attention to a beautifully illuminated tree in the distance

Marc looks over and sees you with your date engaged in what seems to be a cheerful conversation. He maneuvered his way through the crowd, skillfully navigating the sea of people toward the tree.

-

“You know, I was really nervous for today,” you say bashfully, looking down.

“Why?”

“I just didn’t want to mess up, I didn’t want to mess up around you…” You sigh and look down.

They reached out, their thumb and forefinger gently lifting your chin, urging you to meet their gaze.

"You don't have to worry about messing up around me," they reassured you, their voice filled with warmth.

Your lips begin to close and do.

The soft touch of your lips meeting theirs sent a surge of electricity through your body, igniting a fire within you. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the embrace, the world around you fading away into a blur of colors and lights.

As you finally parted, a shared smile spread across your faces. The air between you felt charged with indescribable energy, and a playful giggle escaped your lips, echoing their own laughter.

“Y/N!”

As Marc's voice cuts through the air, calling out your name, your heart skips a beat, and a rush of anxiety floods your veins. Time seems to slow down, and a wave of coldness washes over you, chilling you to the core.

He saw, didn’t he?

He saw the kiss.

You see yourself standing in the living room again, trapped in the midst of your parents' loud yelling. Their voices merge into a cacophony, filling the room with tension and hostility. And then, the painful sting of a slap against your cheek, a searing reminder of who you are.

The memory lingers, intertwining with the present moment, as your breath becomes shallow and rapid. The sense of not belonging, of being unwanted, threatens to suffocate you.

In the midst of your escalating panic, the presence of Marc and the others becomes an ominous presence. Their gazes, their judgment, all meeting you, magnifying your self-doubt and insecurity. The fear of being rejected and abandoned by the very people who have shown you kindness gnaws at your core.

As the piercing screams rupture the air, jolting you out of the tormenting loop of your thoughts, your attention snaps towards the source of the commotion. Panic and chaos grip the atmosphere as people scatter in a frenzied frenzy.

The sight that greets your eyes fills you with terror. A grotesque creature resembling a naked Doberman, with a menacing roar, rampages through the crowd, leaving destruction in its wake.

You look back at Marc but he’s gone and soon enough you hear a ‘watch out’. Looking back to the creature you see it charging at your crush. Immediately you jump and push them out of the way, knocking both of you to the ground.

You stand up and offer them a hand, “You okay?”

They nod and smile, “Yeah,”

Before you can say anything else, you hear a growl, and you two turn to see it targeting the both of you. Without a moment's hesitation, you position yourself in front of them, using your body as a shield to protect them from imminent danger.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline surging through your system heightening your senses.

As you navigate the chaotic scene, your mind races, desperately trying to find an escape or help from others. But it’s no use; you’re being cornered with your backs toward the fake tree and everyone has already run away.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll be fine,” you mutter to yourself, having hope that one of the alters will come to help you. That’s if they would even save you two.

The ferocious jackal growls, its predatory instincts guiding its every move. It inches closer, its eyes fixed on you and your crush, hungry for its prey.

With no warning, it leaps with its fangs ready to pierce through your skin. You flinch away while still guarding the person you care about behind your body.

Waiting for the teeth to pierce, it doesn’t come. You cautiously open your eyes, bracing for the worst. Instead, a wave of relief washes over you as you witness Marc, fully suited up, intercepting the jackal's attack. He grips its jaws firmly to prevent its fangs from reaching you.

"Go!" Marc's strained voice resounds, he uses his energy to hurl the jackal against a nearby stand.

Without hesitation, you seize the opportunity, nodding in acknowledgment. Grasping the hand of the person you cherish, you sprint away from the chaotic scene, your focus fixed on finding safety.

–

After Marc and the others took care of the jackal, the police and paramedics had thoroughly questioned you and your date, ensuring that both of you were unharmed and gathering information about the incident.

They dropped you off at the apartment, promising to have the next date somewhere far from demon dogs. After a lighthearted chuckle, you shared a quick kiss and you were left alone.

The memory of the kiss weighed heavily on your mind, filling you with an overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety. The same feeling you had when your parents told you about one of the church members seeing your kiss.

The rush of emotions threatened to consume you as you stepped into the elevator, each floor passing in a blur, the descent feeling unbearably fast.

Your heart raced, your breath quickened, and you yearned for time to slow down, to grant you a moment of respite before facing the impending turmoil.

You stepped into the apartment, only to find the window where Marc had been yesterday opened once again, this time it was Steven. It seemed as though he wanted to be the first to make sure you were safe. Regardless of his intention, you couldn't linger in the living room. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape, to distance yourself from the piercing scrutiny of his gaze.

Steven shed his suit, reverting to his casual attire, and his shoulders visibly relaxed as he exhaled, ready to greet you. However, before he could utter a complete sentence, you darted past him, your body tense and trembling with fear. Avoiding his gaze at all costs, you spoke with hurried words, expressing your intention to leave.

“I’ll leave,”

Confusion etched across Steven's face as he followed behind you. Entering your room, you left the door open, revealing the chaos of your hastily tossed wardrobe contents strewn across your bed. Your frenzied movements hinted at a desperate attempt to escape, to sever any ties that could hold you back.

“Hey, hey, what–” Approaching cautiously, Steven tried to intervene, his words cut off as you flinched away from his touch. Shocked, he retreated, his eyes fixed upon you with a mix of concern and worry.

Silence enveloped the room, allowing him to piece together the fragments of your behavior. The memory of Marc's discovery at the festival tree flashed in his mind, the sheer terror upon your face as he witnessed your kiss. It almost reminded him of Marc when he was a child and had to face his mother.

“I’ll be done quick, just don’t– I…” You tried to speak but your voice shook and dared to break.

Sensing your need for solace, Steven chose his words carefully. “Do you…want to talk about it?” he offered, inviting you to share the burden that weighed so heavily upon you.

Your gaze lifted slowly, meeting his eyes, and although no words escaped your lips, a silent nod conveyed your willingness to open up. Steven settled himself upon your bed, creating a safe space for you.

The moment you sat beside him and saw his gentle features, letting you know everything was alright, you broke down. Through trembling sobs, you poured out the reason behind your decision to leave your family. Each tear that fell carried with it the weight of two years' worth of fear and anguish.

Steven stayed silent, allowing you the space to release your emotions that you had been suppressing. His heart panged with how much you went through.

Towards the end, you finally tell him your deepest fear, your voice quivering, “I was scared… scared that if I told you guys, you would look at me differently or treat me like my parents did. You guys were the only ones who ever cared about me.”

Without hesitation, Steven pulled you into a tight embrace, offering the warmth and comfort you so desperately needed.

He felt the tremors coursing through your body, the intensity of your sobs increasing with each passing moment. Gently, he rubbed soothing circles on your back, whispering reassuring words, "It's okay… it's okay."

Once you calmed down, Steven gently pulled away, his hands resting on your shoulders, his gaze unwavering as he looked into your eyes.

"We will always be here for you, alright? Me and the others, we won't ever leave your side. And why should we? Just because you've found someone who brings you happiness? Remember, you are deserving of love and acceptance, regardless of anyone else's opinions"

A fragile smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your eyes still red from crying. As Steven's presence seamlessly transitioned to that of Marc, he tightened his grip on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"Whatever your parents or anyone else thinks, who cares? Fuck them," he declared, his voice brimming with support, “The only opinion you should care about is yours.”

You smile and nod as you wipe away the already dry tears. "Thanks," you say, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you

Marc returns the smile but then pauses, as if someone else was talking to him. "Jake says that we love and support you all the way through," he relays, his gaze briefly shifting upward.

Immediately, Marc's body tenses and Jake takes control. "He translated wrong, pero algo asi” Jake interjects, his tone slightly awkward.

*”something like that”*

You chuckle at their exchange, appreciating their effort to make you feel better. Trusting your instincts, you pull Jake into a hug, catching him off guard. He awkwardly pats your back before wrapping his arms around you awkwardly.

“Steven take control. No estoy acostumbrado a cosas como esta” Jake whispers, and in a seamless transition, Steven replaces Jake, hugging you tightly.

*”Im not used to stuff like this”*

After the touching moment, Steven starts asking about your date, eager to hear how it went and if you had fun. He expresses his excitement about the kiss and eagerly shares in your joy.

Throughout the conversation, Marc would pop up, being protective. He asks if they made you uncomfortable or if they offended you. Despite your reassurances that the date went well and that you enjoyed it, Jake continues to question, saying how he knows a few ways to make them never hurt you.

All you can do is just chuckle as the three try to learn more of the person who stole your heart.

Months pass, and you begin to bring your partner to the apartment, introducing them to Steven and the other alters. Usually Steven takes control of the body, since Marc and Jake would either try to embarrass you or test your partner's commitment. However, their attempts fail, especially after years of being together with your partner.

No matter what, the three still accept the two of you with open arms.

===================

I feel like I didn’t write enough interactions of reader with the Moon men but I hope y’all liked it :)

[sissa-arrows]

Me: *watching Arabs hate on colonialism and display anti-colonialism arguments while eating dinner*

Me: *wipe my mouth*

Me: so what is your stance on Western Sahaara?

(aka me waiting for ppl to show up and call u out on Fitna because they choose selective eyesight and hearing, so i can say once again beli machi Rjal)

Too many Arabs (especially the Maghrebi diaspora in France) think that way… and a lot of them will condemn Saudi Arabia or Qatar so it’s not even about Arab solidarity or whatever. They really have a blind spot when it comes to Western Sahara. In the diaspora it’s often a way to look united. The amount of times I saw people going “they already hate us so we shouldn’t be divided”

I do think being in the diaspora especially in a country as hostile as France means that we have to fight differently but it doesn’t mean putting aside our principles. It means we have to be careful about not accepting support from people who are not anti Moroccan colonialism because they hate colonialism but rather because they hate Arabs. The ones who say Free Western Sahara but won’t acknowledge the role the West especially Spain and France play in the colonization of Western Sahara (without support from the West, Morocco wouldn’t be able to sustain the situation)

That being said I personally only meet this type of people online. In real life the situation is more likely to be “What is Western Sahara?” than “I stand with Morocco”.

And the accusations of fitna get on my nerves. If they wanna get all religious on us please enlighten us how is that fitna to defend our Muslim siblings in Western Sahara but it’s not fitna to colonize, kill, torture and rape them? (While using the same Israeli drones who are used to kill Palestinians).

When Ben Bella (Allah yarhmou) said to the Organisation of African Unity “We fought for 7 years and a half against the most obstinate imperialism that could exist. We have no right to think about ourselves when people are still falling in South Africa, Angola and Mozambique.” He was right and he mentioned only African countries because it was about African unity but it applies to all struggles against colonialism and imperialism. Some Arabs will claim the Algerian victory against colonialism as an Arab victory (it was an Algerian victory not an Arab one not even an Imazighen one) and then turn around and be surprised when the grand children of those who fought and lost their lives stand against colonialism today.

(I’m not going to mention the Arab leaders they are sell outs to my knowledge Tebboune is the only one who stands firmly with the Sahrawi people.)

[trigunwritings]

Hello hell-o!!, so i wanna request can i get Gn! Reader with base on a song hire the song

Gn! Reader who is an angel who fall from the heaven , disguise her self as a human, Bit by bit they try and try to help people , but somewhat felling bit sad and you know.. Kinda hate himself , eventually they meet humanoid typhoon it self, and so bit by bit spent time with him, The reader wanted to show her true self ( like wings and Halo things ect) and yet they did but reader said " I'm look bad aren't i? " But Ofc you know Vash Like shut the reader up and tell that they are Not bad ect ect

SO YE IT'S MIGHT BE SAD A LIL BUT IN THE END READER HAPPY WOOO!!!

One step placed in front of the one before it, the motion even and repeating. It’s almost a mantra of physical movement, over and over again with no seeming end in sight—both metaphorical as much as physical. Onward. That’s all you can think. Onward and onward.

How long? The hot days and cold nights have begun to blur together.

How far? You’ve lost count of the steps since last meeting the eyes of another living thing.

The feeling of sand beneath your feet has gone numb, faded into the background of pure existence just like everything else; the sharp wind, the cold darkness, the air burning beneath a merciless sun. Things like hunger, sleep, thirst—they are nothing, but you are not without a physical sense that feels lacking and empty.

But it’s for the best, you tell yourself.

A lie, you tell yourself.

-

It’s never a good idea to stay in one place too long. If you do, people begin to get curious; from there, curiosity turns into suspicion, then to realization, and then accusation. It’s the same cycle every. single. time. Once one person knows the origin of their town’s newfound ‘miracles’ then its only a matter of hours to get out before they inevitably try to corner you with desperate pleas and agonizing voices of hope.

Please heal my son, he’s been sick for so long-

-bless our crops so that they will finally grow, or else we’ll starve-

-you can’t leave without helping us!

Help us.

You have to.

Each voice is a stone you drag along behind you, tied inexplicably to your memories no matter how hard you want to forget them. Sometimes they are just desperate and think they must convince you to part with some of your strength in order to heal their sick, their tired, their hungry. Other times—most other times—they think you are selfish and evil. To be capable of helping people and not doing so, they say, is that not a form of evil itself?

And that is why you roam. Why you can’t afford to stay without bringing even more harm and fear to the very people you want to help. Why you are afraid to let anyone see you. Know you.

Beg you.

Curse you.

It’s for the best, you tell yourself.

-

Your existence spans so many years that its hard to pull specific moments apart from the relative gray that haunts you. Moments of fleeting joy interspersed with empty desert, sand beneath your feet and wind howling in your ears.

But is shattered by the companionship of one singular man, and his name is Vash.

At first you’re wary of him, hoping to leave his presence and escape to your self-enforced isolation every moment that you can. And yet somehow he sticks to you without fail, as if he has the same levels of unending stamina and inhuman lack of basic needs—but he is so… bright? Joyful? Having grown so used to the cold, dark auras of people in need, Vash’s soul is like staring directly into the sun.

You think that he will wander off on his own path eventually, but he doesn’t—nor does he ask any questions when most would.

The random feathers strewn about camp in the morning after bedding down for the night (it felt nice to sleep again).

Your constant supply of food somehow procured from deep within the old bag on your shoulders (when did it taste so good?).

He did not even question when, in the quiet moments beneath the dark night sky, you held up your cupped hands so that he could sip from the water that miraculously came into existence from nothing at all. And as you sipped in kind, it tasted so cool and refreshing against your dry throat.

When had it been so quenching?

-

“Vash.”

The sound of his name stopped the man mid-step. He turns, eyes glancing back towards you curiously but saying nothing in reply.

He has to know. Why won’t he say something about it? Why isn’t he calling you selfish?

“I’m not human,” you say, the words like needles against your tongue.

He’s quiet for a moment before a soft smile pulls at his lips.

“I know.”

“This is not what I really look like.”

“I know.”

You stare at him for an unknown amount of time before your gaze moves down towards the sand shifting around your feet. How many grains of sand was there on this planet? How many people had succumbed to its deadly embrace? Starvation when you could have created food, illness when you could have healed them. How many people have died in which you could have saved?

A hand suddenly comes down upon your shoulder, jolting you from your thoughts so viscerally that when you look back up to see Vash standing in front of you, there must be tears in your eyes from how much they burn.

“Having the power to help one person doesn’t obligate you to help everyone.”

Hypocrite, but an honest one.

He brings his hands up to cup either side of your face. Is that empathy in his eyes? An understanding? Whatever emotion lies within them, it is interlaced with a pain you are all too familiar with. The pain of regret and guilt.

But his touch is soft and warm. New and unfamiliar. In that very moment, you suddenly realize that there’s not a singular moment within the gray sea of existence that you remember someone touching you like this. It’s nice.

And that’s when your wings shimmer into material existence. Feathers swirl in the air around you both, as numerous and white as forgotten bones strewn across the desert. With but a simple motion they expand outward, so wide that they cast a dark shadow across Vash’s entire body from the suns behind you. Two, four… six? Maybe more, countable and uncountable in ways a human’s eyes can’t always perceive.

The golden ring of light above your head sits like a crown, though it feels many times heavier. Neither a physical or material shape, it hums and wavers in and out of existence as the sunlight scatters through the air. You can even feel the marks start taking shape on your skin—words of a language so old that it spoke the universe into existence.

And Vash doesn’t look away from you.

He watches, smile never fading, holding your face in his palms even when he must feel the weight of a thousand mountains on his shoulders in your presence. Even as the air is hard to breathe, even when your very whispers are like thunder, he looks at you with such fondness.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”

And for the first time since the dawn of time itself, you truly believed him.