#dude just draw him in step 4!!!! the pain

[sunbloomdew]

"could you love me more if by the sun and moon i swore that i would never flee?"

background is a screenshot from our life beginnings and always :]

inspired by this pin i put on my board for these two:

they are a "black strawberry dress/pink strawberry dress" couple ueueueueueue (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)

[exhaslo]

Puzzle Pieces Ch10

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, shower sex, praise

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You were trapped there again.

Afraid.

Your body was already shaking, just anticipating the heavy footsteps once that creaky door opened. Your breathing hitched as those thoughts became reality. The loud creak made you stumble as you hurried to the kitchen.

Swiftly, you tried to stop your hands from shaking as you prepped a plate. Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you heard a heavy bag hit the floor. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You couldn't focus and because of that...

CRASH.

"Fuck, woman." Eddie hissed.

You started sobbing and apologizing as you attempted to clean up your mess. His footsteps grew louder and harsher as they drew closer to you. Your breathing stopped as Eddie appeared in front of you. A harsh scowl on his face as he looked down at you.

"Tch, so useless. Clean this shit up and get my dinner ready. I got to head out again soon." Eddie spat as he gave you a swift kick to your stomach.

"S-Sorry....hn...I-I'm so s-sorry." You sobbed, holding your stomach in pain as you kept cleaning.

"Can't believe I got stuck with you."

---------

"I'm sorry!" You gasped, crying as you awoke.

It was hot. You felt sweat all over your body as you scooted off your bed. Another nightmare about him. This was the first one you had since you officially dated Miguel. Unable to stop shaking, you hurried to your living room and grabbed a puzzle.

It had been two weeks since Halloween night. You were happy with Miguel. Everything was going so smoothly, so why. Why were you having nightmares again?

"It's s-so l-late...I-I...d-don't...want...want to bother...." You sniffled lowly, shaking as you reached for your phone.

Miguel had told you to call him whenever you needed to calm down. He was so understanding. Shuddering as you felt your chest tighten, you hesitated to press on Miguel's name. It was almost midnight. What were the chances that he was awake?

-------

Miguel sat alone in a dark room. The only visible thing were his eyes that seemed to have a red glow to them. An echo of a tap was heard until the door creaked opened. Miguel exhaled softly as he watched Miles and his little crew enter.

"Still nothing?" Miguel's tone was more than annoyed.

"Our lead got us nowhere. The best we can do is just keep watching the supermarket." Peter stepped in. Miguel's eye twitched,

"Why is it so hard to find one man?"

"Well, to be fair, we're always fighting someone so our attention isn't that focused on this one dude," Gwen sighed and glanced at Miles, "Maybe we can draw-"

Miguel slammed his fist against the desk. His glare more prominent than normal. Everyone took this as a sign to leave. Not before apologizing to Miguel first. Once they were all gone, Miguel hissed lowly as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from under his desk.

Right as he poured the liquid into a glass, Miguel growled at the sound of his phone. It was late and Miguel was ready to go home, but of course, that new pest of a mafia group had to cause trouble. This new Venom group was going to be destroyed one way or another.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered as he saw your name on his phone, "It's late, Conejita (bunny), why are you still up?" He lowered his voice for you.

"I...I had a n-nightmare," You whimpered.

Miguel's eyes soften as he leaned back in his seat. Your voice was scratchy and low. You've been crying. That and your stuttering was pretty bad. Oh, how he wished you were in his arms right now for him to comfort you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Miguel glanced at his watch, his own exhausted eyes drooping slightly,

"N-No...I...I just...j-just need to c-calm down. I-I like...h-hearing y-your voice." You whimpered softly. Miguel inhaled deeply as he found the energy to stand,

"I'll be there in a bit, amor (love). Don't worry."

"O-Okay,"

Miguel smiled softly as he heard the relief in your tone. He hung up, then immediately called his driver. Despite still having a lot of work to do, Miguel was going to call it a night. He can have his men and women do his dirty work for now.

Miguel needed his relief.

----------

You played with your sleeves as you fixed up your place. It helped you clear your mind a bit since Miguel was coming over. Hurrying to the bedroom, you doublechecked his spare clothes. Since you started dating, you bought Miguel some cozy clothes in case he ever decided to stay over again.

You were always the one to sleep over at his place.

Feeling your cheeks burn, you shook the thought away and hurried back to the living room. Miguel was going to come over any minute now. You needed to finish your puzzle.

'Pick up this shit! What are you a fucking child?'

Your breathing shuddered as the voice screamed from the back of your mind. You held the small piece in your palm, unable to stop shaking. Your sleeves slowly rolling down, revealing the scars you gave yourself as a means of escape.

'Do you have ANY FUCKING IDEA how fucked I'll be if you tried to fucking kill yourself? Don't be a stupid little bitch!'

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed once more. Why did his voice have to come back and haunt you? Why was he such a poison in your mind? Eddie was a venom. Eating away at your soul until you were nothing left.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel knocked against your door.

Quickly, you hurried to him. You tackled Miguel, wrapping your arms around him as you sobbed into his chest. With ease, Miguel picked you up and carried you into the bedroom. You didn't want to let him go.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" Miguel asked, sitting you on the bed. He noticed a pair of clothes set aside for him, "Hm?"

"I-I k-keep hearing...h-his...his voice. I-I can't..." You tighten your grip against his jacket, "I-I'm sorry. S-Sorry I'm a burden."

"But you're not," Miguel sighed softly and lifted your chin, kissing your tears away, "He is no longer in your life. Y estoy planeando matar al cabrón por ti, mi conejito. (And I'm planning on killing the fucker for you, my bunny)."

"Mhm, M-Miguel..." You whispered, only understanding the 'bunny' part, "Um...I, um...I got you some comfortable clothes...to s-sleep in. W-Would you like s-shower first?"

"Only if you join me,"

You bit your lower lip and slowly nodded. Honestly, just having Miguel here was calming you down. Following Miguel into the bathroom, you helped set the water and squeaked softly as Miguel already started to get undressed.

You followed suit, still hesitating with your clothes. Miguel approached you, his hands gently holding your waist. You closed your eyes, finally removing your shirt. Miguel responded with a hum and proceeded to kiss you,

"My beautiful girl," He whispered, slowly pulling you into the shower with him.

Your heart fluttered every time Miguel complemented you. Your shower was small, so your bodies were pressed against each other. Miguel had you in his embrace, his head resting against the crook of your neck as the warm water hit his skin.

"(Y/n), whenever you think of that asshole, I want you to remember that I'm taking care of you now," Miguel whispered in your ear as his hands stroked your sides, "That I cherish you for the wonderful woman you are."

"M-Miguel," You whispered, feeling your back pressed against the wall.

You whimpered softly as Miguel started to kiss and nibble at your neck and shoulder. You slowly wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as Miguel lifted you up. You shuddered as Miguel started to grind his hips into yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

"Call out of work tomorrow, amor. Let me spoil you."

"B-But...mhm, I-I can't...c-call out again." You whimpered softly, resisting a moan as Miguel's dick slid against your folds, "M-My...b-b-bills"

"I'll take care of everything," Miguel hummed, making his marks on you, "You deserve a break. Let me take care of you."

"M-Miggy," You moaned as his tip poked your hole.

You arched your back against the wall, giving Miguel more space to mark you. He hummed in response, his fingers slowly rubbing circles against your clit. The heat of the shower was fogging your mind as you started to give into the pleasure.

"That's right, let me take care of you." Miguel hummed, stealing your lips in a kiss as he gently slid his dick inside you.

"Mhpm~"

Your legs tighten around Miguel's waist as he started to thrust into you. His gentle yet rough thrusts sending you to nirvana with each slap. Whimpers and moans were coming out loudly as you clenched around Miguel's cock.

Every time Miguel fucked you, it made you remember the difference between him and your past relationship. Miguel was far too good for you. Gasping, you fell victim to an orgasm with another simple rough thrust from Miguel.

"Gooooood girl. That's right, you're doing so good for me," Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting a little faster and harsher.

You flung your head back, crying out as Miguel kept hitting your sweet spot. Your hands were gripping his hair, your head resting against his shoulder.

"Miggy~"

-------

Miguel grunted as you kept clenching around his dick. Your blissed out expression gave him full to keep going. You were doing better giving yourself into him. Miguel just needed you to realize that you didn't have to work anymore.

That you could live with him.

Hearing loud knocking from against the shower wall, Miguel chuckled darkly. Seems like his shy bunny was being too loud for your neighbors. You didn't even notice as Miguel drew another orgasm out of you.

"Let's take this to the bed," Miguel chuckled.

Still holding onto you, Miguel turned the water off and brought a towel. He placed the towel on the bed before laying you on your back. His harsh and rough thrusts continued as he pressed you into mating position.

"I'll treat you like the princess you deserve to be," Miguel grunted as he unloaded inside of you.

"M-Mig..." You breathed out, "P-Please...K-Keep going,"

Miguel just chuckled as he kissed you deeply. Your cute fucked out expression just begging for more. Miguel flipped you on your stomach, pressing himself against you back. You whimpered and moaned as his rough thrusts continued.

"Ah, sabe tan bien. Eres mi dulce conejita en celo, ¿no? ¿Quieres que te dé una razón para ser mía? (Ah, taste so good. You are my sweet little bunny in heat aren't you? Want me to give you a reason to be mine?)" Miguel whispered, falling into his own lust.

Miguel pressed his hand against your back, watching you grip the bed sheets. Your moans filling his ears like music. Your sweet pussy dripping and sucking his dick, forming a white ring around his cock. Your moans were almost pornographic as Miguel finally let loose.

"I'm going to treat you so well tomorrow. I've had such a long day." Miguel whispered in your ear, "Going to make you forget all about what hurts you."

"Miguel~!" You cried out, collapsing after a harsh orgasm.

Miguel sighed softly as he finished. Another grunt and a moan, Miguel gave you one last load of his cum. A loud sigh escaping his throat as relief washed over him. As he pulled out, Miguel smiled at his work once more.

You were fast asleep, your body twitching softly with his marks all over you. Miguel put on the clothes you got him and proceeded to wipe you down. He found some new pajamas for you and got you dressed before finally climbing into your bed.

"Not the best way to comfort her, but this works too," Miguel told himself before falling asleep.

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"Took forever, but we finally had time to get here." Eddie huffed as he stood in front of the supermarket you worked at, "Now to take back what belongs to me."

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

[ohabigailhowcouldyou]

Written in The Stars(igns)... ~pt 4~

~Author's note: this one got away from me a bit, so this is just chapter 1. The second chapter is linked below.~

♡♡♡

Here's the thing, Chris could be downright charming when he wanted to, they all knew that, counted on it for the many interviews and meet & greets they did. People wanted to hear him talk, and it gave everyone else a chance to take the backseat and not feel that overwhelming pressure to say the right thing and not embarrass themselves.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise that the same charm that won over so many interviewers could also be employed to win over hearts. In fact, it wasn't a surprise because Ricky had been watching it happen for years. An attractive woman would catch Chris' eye, he would smile, make her laugh, seduce her with witty remarks and measured glances without laying a hand on her, then let her lead him to some private location for a few hours.

The difference now was that Ricky was watching it happen for the first time since... well, since the breakup of his relationship.

He wondered if enough time had passed now, that he was starting to think about dating again and that was why he'd become so aware of the way Chris interacted with people. After all, if anyone in the band could be considered a ladies' man, it was Chris. So it stood to reason, as Ricky became aware of his loneliness, that through observation he might learn something that would come in handy if he decided to take that step and approach someone. After half a decade, his flirting skills were pretty rusty to say the least.

"You know what I hate most about Europe?" Vinny threw himself down on the seat across from Ricky, jostling the tiny table and drawing the attention of the restaurant patrons closest to them. Ryan and Justin snickered from their own table several feet away.

"The fact that everyone keeps assuming you speak Italian?" Ricky didn't look up from fiddling with his camera, toggling the settings on the little Fuji without any real purpose in mind. Across the restaurant, Chris was getting a tour of the vegan pastries on offer from a stunning, dark-skinned waitress. From her body language, it was obvious she was on offer, too.

"No," Vinny intoned, reaching across to Ricky's barely-touched plate for an olive. "I hate that it's not America."

"Uh huh," Ricky mumbled, lifting the camera to snap a quick photo of Chris, eyes crinkled as he smiled at the woman in front of him.

"I also hate the flesh-eating bacteria that's chowing down on my nuts as we speak," Vinny was saying.

Ricky nodded. "Yeah, sounds good, Vin." He had lowered the camera again, to change more settings, to keep his eyes away from Chris.

A sharp stab of pain finally shifted his focus to Vinny, who had pinched the sensitive skin inside his elbow.

"Ow! What the fuck, Vin?"

"You weren't paying attention to what I was saying," Vin said. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Sorry. What were you saying? I'll listen now." He put the camera down, turning toward his friend to prove that he meant it.

"How 'bout you tell me what's up with you, instead. You've been broody and distracted for weeks." There was a sincere worry in Vin's eyes now.

"Guess I'm just tired?" Ricky didn't have a better reason to give Vinny. "All the travel this year. We haven't toured like this since before the pandemic. Maybe it's just catching up to me. I'm not getting any younger, you know."

The expression on Vinny's face indicated that he could read the more complex story behind Ricky's careful words. He nodded. "If you need to talk about it, you know I'm here. We all are, dude."

"Thanks." Rick reached out to pat Vin's shoulder, before turning to his plate and taking a bite of food he could barely taste.

They had that night off, and opted to spend the evening walking around the city instead of piled into the crowded bus. Even Chris went against his introverted nature to enjoy the summer heat with them.

They found an outdoor market in a city square none of them could pronounce the name of, spreading out to look at the fruit and cheese, trinkets and artwork on display.

Ricky found himself taking in most of it through the lens of his camera, snapping picture after picture, until he lowered the device and found himself next to Chris, who was talking to the young man at a stall selling fruit. He was purchasing a tray of strawberries and cherries, laughing at something the guy said as he handed over the money. The man smiled as he passed Chris the fruit.

"Please enjoy!" The musical lilt of his accent imbued the words with warmth.

"Oh, I will," Chris replied, then winked at the guy, whose cheeks flushed crimson.

The little interaction, seeing Chris charm a guy, left Ricky feeling strangely winded, and it took him a second to realize that Chris was talking to him now.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Ricky looked away from the man who had moved on to the next customer, to see Chris looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I asked if you wanted some," Chris said, holding out the fruit.

"Thanks," Ricky said, picking out a strawberry.

"You okay? You've been a little... distracted, lately."

"I'm fine," Ricky said, flashing a quick smile. He bit into the strawberry, chasing a drop of its sweet juice with the tip of his tongue before it could stain his chin.

Chris' dark eyes followed the movement, then darted away, a sideways glance toward the fruit merchant for a split second, then down to the camera in Ricky's hand.

"Get any good shots?"

It wasn't what he expected Chris to say. He didn't really know what he had expected either, and he hated the feeling of being off balance like this.

"Maybe, I think. I'll go through them later, pick out some to post."

Chris nodded. They had started walking again, falling into step beside each other.

"Be sure to include none of me, so you can get a hundred comments asking "where's Chris?". Drive up the engagement."

Ricky laughed, and Chris joined in. In the failing sunlight, with the sweetness of the strawberry lingering on his tongue, and Chris' shoulder bumping into his with each chuckle, Ricky took a moment to commit the scene to memory, instead of film.

Later, he posted his favorite photos from the day to Instagram. In the corner of one, barely visible, was Chris' tattooed fingers holding a cherry by its stem.

A couple of days later, Ricky found himself walking next to Chris through the streets of a Spanish town he didn't remember the name of, on the hunt for vegan ice-cream.

The sunshine was hot to the point of discomfort, and Ricky now understood why no one else had wanted to venture away from the air-conditioned bus. No one except Chris, who was grinning, clearly relishing the heat as he poked fun at Ricky.

He should be annoyed, thought Ricky. They had passed several places that sold ice-cream, but none of them were vegan, and if it weren't for that he would be back in his blessedly cool bunk with his craving satisfied, instead of melting onto the sidewalk. And yet he wasn't annoyed. Joking around with Chris felt nice, in a way he'd used to be familiar with when they were younger and their lives were less complicated.

"Oh hey!" Chris pointed across the street to a café. The signage indicated that they were fully vegan, and had ice-cream. "I think the search is over."

"Thank fuck," Ricky grumbled, playing up the suffering. "One more minute and I would have been vaporized like a vampire."

"Your own fault for insisting on an all-black wardrobe, pal."

Ricky didn't have much of a retort to that, especially considering that Chris himself was wearing a Knocked Loose shirt in white instead of black. Instead he led the way across the street and into the café, which had AC and an impressive variety of frozen desserts. There weren't many patrons, and the server behind the counter -tall, pretty, tanned skin and dark eyes, a little badge on their apron to say their pronouns- greeted them with a friendly smile, that Ricky returned before going to look at the display cases to see if any flavors catch his eye.

Chris greeted the server, asking if they spoke English, and joking about American ignorance at their affirmative.

Somehow, the annoyance that Ricky hadn't felt outside crashed through him now, as he saw from the corner of his eye the way the server reacted to Chris' damned charm.

The ice-cream had lost most of its appeal, but Ricky hadn't made the trek here for nothing, and he stepped up next to Chris to give the server his order. They were friendly about it, but their disappointment in having the conversation with Chris cut short was evident, and Ricky's irritation flared hotter. Chris ordered too, then paid for both of them.

"You don't have to," Ricky protested, frowning.

"I want to." Chris gave a shrug.

"This isn't a date, y'know." The words were meant to be lighthearted, for the benefit of the server's hopes, but they came out harsh and biting.

Chris gave the flustered server an apologetic smile and thanks, then frowned at Ricky as they took their desserts and moved toward a vacant little table.

"What was that about?" He demanded. "I paid to make up for dragging you through the heat for my sake."

Ricky pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know that. Sorry."

There was a beat of silence, and Ricky took a small bite of ice-cream, not looking at Chris.

"Rick."

With his eyes still locked on his spoon, Ricky had a hard time deciphering the reason for the hesitation in Chris' voice.

"Is there," Chris paused, took a breath, then went on, "is there something you want to talk about?"

"No," Ricky stated flatly. He took another bite, not tasting anything but cold.

"I think, maybe, there is."

"Oh? Enlighten me, then." Ricky finally looked up at Chris, eyes narrowed. "What do I want to talk about?"

Chris looked uncomfortable, cheeks pink.

"It's just..." Chris breathed in deep through his nose, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I thought that maybe you were questioning your sexuality or something and I don't wanna pressure you if you're not ready to talk about it, but if you are, I want you to know I'm here for you."

"I... what?!"

Chris looked like someone who had just discovered a spider's nest under their bed. He had an expression of abject terror on his expressive face.

"You seemed to get a little... uhm... jealous... when the server flirted with me, I think? And the other night, with the guy selling strawberries? You waited until he was looking at you to take a bite and do the tongue-thing and -"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ricky cut Chris' rambling off, eyebrows raised in utter bewilderment. "What tongue-thing?" He had no idea why that was the thing his mind had chosen to latch onto, but everything Chris was saying seemed nonsensical, so it didn't seem to matter which bit he questioned first.

Chris' cheeks had gone from pink to crimson, and he wasn't meeting Ricky's eyes anymore, one hand fidgeting nervously with his spoon.

"Y'know," he mumbled. "You licked the strawberry juice off your lips like-, like... anyway, that's beside the point, the guy clearly noticed it, but then you just turned away."

Like what? Ricky wondered for a second, but didn't ask out loud. He hadn't even been paying attention to the guy, really, his focus had been on...

"What do you mean I seemed jealous at the server flirting with you?" Ricky demanded instead.

It didn't seem possible that Chris could blush even more, but he did. "I meant that when we came in you smiled at them, but then you got all annoyed when they paid more attention to me."

Ricky blinked at Chris. "I smiled at... Since when does smiling at a person equate to being interested in them?"

"It's not just the smile," Chris said, a little exasperated. "Your whole... what's the word? Demeanor! Your whole demeanor."

"You mean the immense relief of being out of the sun, under AC, with a variety of ice-cream to enjoy? Did it occur to you that that might make me smile? Alter my demeanor?"

"Then why get annoyed at me then? If you weren't jealous of them flirting with me instead of you?"

"I wasn't jealous. And I'm not having a sexuality crisis. I am leaving, though." He got up from the table, ignoring Chris calling after him, and clenched his jaw as he emerged into the brutally bright sunlight.

There was a heavy weight pressing against his chest, guilt at the fact that he had just lied through his teeth.

He was jealous. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but it was true. And as for the sexuality crisis... well, for most of his life he'd been able to pretend to himself that he was straight, because he was attracted to women too. It wasn't so much a crisis as indecision over whether to continue the pretense or not. Either way, he still wouldn't be getting what, or rather who, he really wanted. So what did it matter anyway?

Chapter 2

[therapy-ghost]

Hello, thank you so much for doing this for me. Here's info about me :

My name is Gabriela, but they call me Gabby, Magik, Luna, Crazy one, Gabi. I'm 16 years old girl from Slovakia 🇸🇰, Libra and 5'9 ft tall. I am an only child.

I have brown eyes, dirty blonde hair to my shoulders, I wear black glasses and I have cute gap in my teeth. I'm tall and slim. I have little freckles.

I have Russian accent since I'm half Russian and half Slovak. Yep, Russian and Slovak are my native languages.

My personality: Introvert, calm, funny, smart, logic, hotheaded, sensitive, polite, nice, kind, loving, passionate, cold, and honest. I'm loyal to my friends and family but I have really short tempert. I'm sassy and flirty and self-confident. I'm vengeful, flirty, manipulative ( I hate when I'm manipulative). I'm a good person and a loyal friend.

My sarcastic comments just like to be notifed ya know. My biggest skill is : LEADERSHIP. Sometimes I make inappropiate comments against others.

Despite my strong personality, I still have fears that I didn't overcome, like fear from heights, clowns, dark, and when someone is raising hand on me even in a good manner, I will flinche and step away from fear.

I love libraries and chemical labs.

Meditation is such a bullshit to me.

I wear mostly Dark clothes. Black and blue and purple are my fav colors. I like to wear chokers, headbands and I love to wear my hair down or in a bun or a ponytail.

When I speak Russian and I wanna speak in English to someone, my English is messy, Idk why.

I have my black headphones 24/7. Even when I'm writing this, I have 'em on and I listen to music. Music is my happy place, my own world and I listen to musíc mostly when I want to ignore everyone. So at first, when I'm meeting someone new, I will ignore them and have sassy comments. I just don't let my trust down so easily.

I love to play on guitar and piano, sing, listen to music, read books, draw, dance. I'm a bookworm and I just can't imagine my life without book and music. I love Science and History. I love universe too.

People say that I'm just like Magik from new mutants.

People say that's it so cute when I push my glasses up and when I laugh and smile. Idk why but спасибо большое ❤️.

Why that nickname crazy one? Well I'm allergic to sunlight, and I can't go out at day only at night. I don't sleep cause of Insomnia and I don't eat because when I eat too much, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Not a best feeling. I'm literally a VAMPIRE. I have white skin and fangs.

I have one adoptive brother Casey. He's 16 and he's just like BAYMIKEY. Soo annoying but we love each other. We have separate bedrooms and we always speak in Russian

I have breakdowns cause of my grandfather. He does 4 years ago and it's do painful for me.

I have a lot of nightmares.

That's everything. Thank you so much ❤️❤️.

Hello, and thank you for doing this with me, but here is your match up.

I match you up with: Donnie

The two of you have pretty similar interest that would allow you to bound a lot easier than the rest.

Teach him a few words in Russian and he will use them, either on his family and friends, or you.

he will also like to hear you play the guitar in the background of his work shop.

sitting in each others silence is something he will enjoy, and then put some light music in the background and *chefs kiss*

please listen to him rumble too, its much appreciated by his brothers.

insomnia is a thing that is also in his life, so you dont have to be alone.

purple duo?

he is a very vanilla dude when it to physical touch, holding hands, cuddles, and cheek kisses.

but really, you to are pretty much perfect(in my opinion)

Thank you for this exchange and i hope you liked it.

[thelaundrybitch]

Little Blue Hearts Update - Chapter 14

Hello My Turtle Doves 🥰

Slightly early update. Tomorrow is another busy day here!

New POV in this chapter!

This is a very emotional chapter.

Warning: Anxiety attack triggered

18+ content - for mature audiences only!

Reblogs only, please!

Little Blue Hearts cover art by the lovely @leosgirl82

Bad Timing

~Michelangelo~

"Mike, I'm alright, really. You can put me down," giggles Ashley as soon as we are in the safety of the underground tunnels that lead to the lair.

"Well, maybe I just like treating my lady like the queen she is," I say, teasing her and giving her the flirtiest Mikey look I can muster.

She gives me her best bedroom eyes, and I whisper in her ear, "Those eyes of yours are gonna get you into trouble, babes."

She pulls me in, whispering the naughty things she's gonna do to me later.

"Mike put her down. Ya making me sick."

"Dude, don't hate!" I exclaim, smirking at Raph, who just rolls his eyes at me.

"Seriously though, you can let me walk," says Ashley, kissing me on the snout.

I put her down as gently as possible. She's totally trying to walk it off, but I can tell it's hurting. I stay close to her because I have a feeling she's not gonna make it that far.

She gasps in pain after about ten steps, and I'm already lifting her back up, never missing a beat as I continue walking.

Donnie jogs up beside us, "Ash, I hate to break it to ya, but I think it might be more than a sprain."

She lets out a big sigh.

"Yea... Me too."

"When we get back to the lair, can you bring her right to my lab, Mikey? I want to take a few X-rays of my own."

"Of course! Thanks, Don!" I say, super grateful to my big bro for helping us out.

He smiles and nods at me. "Uh, Raph? Do you mind taking Liv's stuff? I'd like to go ahead and get my portable x-ray machine and set up all my medical equipment for Ash.

The big bonehead nods, taking the luggage, as Donnie sprints toward the lair, probably catching up with Leo.

Once we get to Donnie's lab, he takes a bunch of X-rays of Ashley's ankle and foot. Apparently, one of the small bones on the top of her foot is fractured. Nothing crazy, but Donnie says it's gonna probably take 4-6 weeks to heal properly.

"I'm still gonna have to go to work and have them retake the images," she says. "That way, they can see it for themselves, and I get paid for my time out of work."

"That's probably a good idea. They can also give you the proper casting for your bone to heal the way it's supposed to." He says, looking through some paperwork. "Be right back." He says, jogging around the corner.

"Does this mean I get you all to myself for the next six weeks?" I whisper in her ear, playing with her beautiful brown curls. I draw circles on her open palm with my thumb using my other hand, watching her eyes as they start to glaze over. "You know what we could do during that time? How much fun we could have?" I say suggestively, wiggling my eyebrow ridge at her.

She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks.

I hear Raph clear his throat, and I smile at him. "I can finally have a partner in crime to play video games and watch movies with, bro!" I tell him, and he smiles, looking down and shaking his head in disbelief at my stupidity.

As I'm flirting with my girlfriend, trying to set myself up to have a 'good night', we hear Liv.

"Hey!" She calls as she jogs over.

I see Leo standing halfway between where we are sitting and the door. I give him a questioning look with a nod to see if he's alright. He gives a small nod back with half of a sad smile.

Oh no. What is going on.

"Liv!" Ashley smiles at the sight of her cousin, then frowns. "Oh my God, you're still awake? It's like 3 am!"

"Yea, well, I heard CrAshley strikes again," she says with a teasing smirk, and I can't help but smile at the nickname. Raph chuckles from behind Liv, stepping forward out of the shadows.

"CrAshley?" Asks Raph with half a smirk on his face. "This has got to be good."

"Liv!" Ashley says, exasperated.

"Oh-ho, you have no idea," Liv sasses, looking up at my giant brother as he sidles up next to her.

"Oh, I think I have a decent idea. Isn't that right, SmAshley?"

Liv tries to suppress a laugh but fails. Ashley looks between the two of them -one with his arms crossed and the other with her hands on her hips, the pair of them giggling like best friends that haven't seen each other in a decade. They're cute, honestly, but Ashley doesn't seem to think so with those luscious lips of hers in a full pout.

"It's ok, baby. I love your clumsiness," I say, cupping her face and bringing it back to mine, nuzzling her nose with my snout. I grab her hand and kiss the back of it, knowing she loves it because she smiles and swoons at my advances.

I can see Raph from the corner of my eye. He looks like he's gonna vomit and turns around to hide back in the shadow where he had been before. Liv is all smiles for her cousin and me.

Just then, Donnie comes flying around the corner, looking through some paperwork and mumbling something under his breath.

Dude, he's always so stressed lately.

I see Leo just past Liv. He, too, sees Donnie isn't paying attention and is unaware he is making a beeline for Liv.

"Is she gonna make it, Doc?" Cracks Liv, attempting to get Donnie's attention as she takes a few steps back out of his path. But to no avail. He slams right into her. "Don!" She yells.

Just past them, I see Leo, his eyes huge, as he starts to move toward them.

Don looks up just as he collides with Liv, his paperwork erupting from his hands like fireworks. He throws his arms around her and pulls her into an embrace, so she doesn't fall on her ass. He looks down at her with the flirtiest smile I've ever seen on his face. "Hey, Sunshine," he says softly.

My eyes go wide… I know where this is going. I look over to Leo, who has stopped dead in his tracks and is watching the woman he's in love with being manhandled by our brother.

I look back to Don, now horrified for poor Leo. Don has one arm around Liv in a tight embrace as he's going in for the kill - his other hand enjoying every inch of her curves as he moves it up to her neck and then into her blonde hair, pulling her in for a kiss.

Only now do I realize Ashley's nails are digging into my skin. I look at her in a panic as she looks at me, absolutely horrified.

The door to the lab slams, and Leo is gone. Ashley makes a big show of clearing her throat and looks to Raph, who chuckles and says, "Alright, Romeo," finally snapping Donnie out of his trance." You still have a patient waiting for you."

A very red Liv gets stood back up on her own two feet and scrambles to where Raph is standing. It's almost as if she's using him as a shield. She looks uncomfortable and unsure. Like she's just been violated.

"Uh, Don... Is everything alright?" Liv asks him.

I can see the disappointment and embarrassment cross Donnie's face.

He sighs, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead a bit as he rubs his eyes with his fingers and thumb over the bridge of his nose. "Yea..."

He readjusts his glasses on his face and looks down at his papers all over the floor. I release Ashley's hand to help him pick up the mess.

"They diagnosed her with a sprain at the hospital before she came home," says Don, "but she has a small fracture on the top of her foot."

"Oh," says Liv in both real and mock surprise. I look up at her to see her and Ashley having a silent conversation. I look back down to give them privacy; Ashley will fill me in later.

"She will be fine, but she's going to need more than a couple of days off of work," he says, fixing his papers. "Probably more like six weeks," he continues, standing up. I finish grabbing the last paper from where I'm crouching and stand up with him. My emotions are haywire, and I know someone needs to get to poor Leo. It would be better if it were Liv.

I just about throw the papers at Donnie. I'm not sure whether to be angry or disgusted with him at this point.

"Thanks, Mike," says Donnie.

I return to Ashley, who side-eyes me questioningly, looking at Don then Liv. I frown and shrug my eyebrow ridge at her. I look toward the door where Leo had been and back at her. She lets out a sad sigh and frowns, looking down at her lap. I give her hand a squeeze, and she looks at me with a small, grateful smile.

"Woah!" I hear Liv say in response to Donnie's diagnosis.

Donnie walks over to Ashley and starts putting the plastic cast back on her.

I watch quietly as Liv's facial expressions tell Ashley she's getting the fuck out of there, and Ashley sneakily agrees.

Liv lets out a big yawn, making sure the entire room, a.k.a. Raph, knows that she's exhausted.

"Same, sweetheart, same," he says with a smile.

"Raph, I'm gonna take my stuff and go shower and probably go to bed," I overhear her say as she turns to go.

"Ok, I can bring your bag to the back of the lab," he says in a helpful tone.

Donnie stops what he's doing and looks up in a panic, eyes bulging out of his head.

"What?!" Says Liv, exasperated.

"Didn't Leo tell you that you were being moved to Donnie's guestroom?" He asks.

Donnie's breathing hitches, and he goes to say something, but it's too late. Raph has unleashed the beast.

She turns fully around to face us all and looks at Ashley, who is shaking her head profusely to let her know she had NO idea what was going on.

I can see Liv unraveling, and quickly.

She's attempting to take deep breaths, but it's not helping.

"So... Exactly when was this decided?" She asks in a scarily calm voice.

"Tonight on the way home. We decided you'd be better off with Don in his guestroom," says Raph proudly.

"We decided," she says, looking down, still taking deep breaths that are now becoming more and more uneven. Don goes to say something, but Ashley slaps her hand in the middle of his plastron to shut him up, shaking her head no, frantically.

"Did anyone bother asking me what I wanted? Did anyone think that maybe I wanted some say, in what and where I will be spending my time for God knows how long in this dungeon?!"

I look at Raph, who looks very afraid of what he's just done.

Ashley lets out a shaky breath, and I see tears forming in Liv's eyes.

"Well, let me tell you," says Liv calmly, as she starts to gasp for breath, "I may have agreed to let you keep me here, but I. Am. Not... A god-damn hostage," she says through gritted teeth.

She closes the space between her and Raph, getting in his face and in his space the best she can. "I will stay here out of respect for all of you and because I want you to trust me. But if you think," She pokes him in the middle of the chest and continues, "for one second, that I am going to roll over and just take it, You are sadly mistaken, and you can kiss. My. Ass."

Tears streaming down her face, she turns and runs out of the lab, Don hot on her trail.

We all sit there in silence for a few minutes.

I can't take the tension.

"I have the weirdest boner right now," I say softly.

Ashley, who is sitting next to me, half cast, bursts out laughing; Raph looks at me, shocked.

"Me, too," He says.

Little Blue Hearts Master list HERE

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[altariaas]

your face all made up (living on a screen) 

Adrien knows, to some degree, that it’s the important things that are the most important to say out loud, but it would help to know that someone’s actually listening. It would also help if things would stop breaking every time he acknowledged his emotions, too. 

i’ve taken a total of three steps into this fandom but sure, let’s skip to season 4 and fall face-first into the Angst™, as it goes. I just think Adrien should get a little raw powers of destruction sneaking out of control in his daily life. as a treat. Post-Rocketear so lots of spoilers etc.

Adrien walks home from the fight against Nino’s akuma with a raging headache, a developing case of massive anxiety, and a purpling bruise the size of a basketball on his shin.

The last one isn’t actually from the akuma. Those injuries got neatly miraculoused away, along with Nino’s heartbroken betrayal. No, the bruise is from Adrien’s incredibly stupid attempt to funnel his tornado of emotions into something concrete by kicking the front gate, only to completely miss and slam his shin into the solid steel rungs instead, sending him stumbling back in a pained fit of trying to think up creative curse words that won’t result in his father murdering him if he overhears.

Metaphorically, of course. Father’s not a murderer, except when it comes to the slow death of Adrien’s social life.

Though he really…can’t entirely blame that on Father, either.

And there comes the developing case of anxiety. Adrien swallows, a feeble attempt to banish the souring feeling in his stomach and the aching tightness in his chest. He wraps his arms around himself, staring up at the mansion and fighting the increasing urge to run. The inside of his cheek stings as he chews at it, already abused from how hard he’d bitten there earlier when Nino had started making…observations. Accusations. Wildly misdirected statements that definitely aren’t any insight to how Nino truly feels about what might be the truest version of Adrien’s slowly splintering self, if he’s going to be dramatic about it.

Overly passionate, Father’s voice echoes hollowly somewhere in the back of his head. Prone to fits of drama, just like his mother.

Spinning abruptly on his heel, Adrien beats a steady path away from the mansion gates and toward…somewhere. Somewhere that won’t make that developing case of anxiety worse, and where no one can witness his fits of drama.

The urge to send the front camera a rude gesture in farewell is violently stifled as Adrien keeps his arms wrapped tightly around himself, like the action will keep everything in neat and perfect and safe from view. He feels more than hears Plagg rustle curiously in his front pocket, but Adrien ignores the action, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

Then the sharp reminder of how it felt when Ladybug ignored him in favor of Rena Rouge comes back and bites him solidly in the guilty part of his feelings, so Adrien pats his front pocket reassuringly.

“Just taking the long way home,” he murmurs.

Plagg’s eyes are calculating, almost greener than usual as they stare at him, and Adrien feels uncomfortably perceived. Not in the cold, bug-under-a-microscope way he feels sometimes when Father looks at him, but a hot kind of uncomfortable, the way he feels when someone looks right past the Adrien Agreste mask and sees—

What? What do they see? An awkward boy stumbling back against a wall because he never learned what his real self was supposed to look like? Hollow flirting and annoying with a capital a?

Fits of drama, Adrien reminds himself. He shouldn’t take it so close to heart. Not when Nino looked so devastated, so heartbroken. Not when Ladybug’s been giving him uncomfortably clear signs that Nino might’ve been right.

“If you say so, kid,” Plagg finally replies. “But I better get that camembert sooner than later.”

A half-smile tugs at Adrien’s mouth. “Sure, Plagg.”

At least Plagg still wants him around, masks and all. It’s a small comfort, but Adrien clings to it, his arms tightening around himself. Sure, things didn’t go…wonderfully, today, but it’s not all so bad. He got slammed into a van a couple of times, and maybe a couple of busted ribs, but that’s nothing, comparatively. And sure, Father’s finding more flaws in him to coldly evaluate than usual, and Nathalie’s growing paler and sicker by the day, and Ladybug’s either freezing him out bit by bit or starting to forget about him entirely and he isn’t sure which is worse, and his schedule is slipping further and further from manageable by the day and Nino dislikes a side of him so much it sent him straight into an akuma and—

“—kid, stop!”

Adrien’s thoughts cut off abruptly as his foot catches, his sense of balance going horizontal as he stumbles, and proceeds to nearly slam the rest of him face-first into the concrete. Plagg’s sharp warning echoes in his ears as he rights himself with a panicked yelp, hopping once while frantically hoping no one was around to see — whatever that was.

“Kid,” Plagg starts, but he doesn’t finish. He’s left the front pocket, his eyes bright green as he stares at him.

Adrien blinks, shaking the slight sense of vertigo off. “Sorry, sorry, I—”

Huh. What did he do? Rubbing the back of his head, Adrien glances at the street he stumbled over. He frowns.

The culprit is a jagged, snaking tear in the concrete, half a meter deep and the length of Adrien’s arm. He stares at the spiderwebbing cracks that branch out of it, fine grains of crushed concrete already scattering in the slight wind.

Weird, he thinks. He doesn’t remember fighting Nino this far down the street. Lucky Charm should’ve fixed that, even if he did.

“Adrien,” Plagg says, and there’s an uncharacteristically cautious edge in his voice. “What was that?”

Adrien cups a hand around Plagg, running a finger over his head in apology as he draws him out of view again. “Lost in thought, I guess,” he says, ducking his head. “Sorry.”

Plagg doesn’t reply, still staring at him with a look Adrien can’t quite identify. He feels oddly disoriented, like he actually did fall and hit his head, and now it’s spinning in retaliation. Across the street in front of him, the stoplight flickers — red, then orange, then red again. It flickers out entirely, before snapping back to a bright, acidic green. Adrien rubs his eyes.

“Let’s…let’s go home,” Plagg finally says, tucking himself back in Adrien’s shirt pocket. He doesn’t entirely meet Adrien’s eyes as he does, but he curls up against his chest, solid and warm, and it’s almost enough to banish the ache that lies beneath.

“Okay,” he says, softly. “Home, then.”

————

There’s a memory Adrien has, from when he was younger. It’s one he holds tightly to his chest, tattered and frayed as it is.

He was much smaller than he is now — barely six years-old, maybe, and small enough to hide behind the large statues his mother would put funny hats on to make his father laugh. She’d done just that earlier, standing tiptoed on the staircase as she’d slipped a terrible orange bowler hat on the pretty lady Nathalie said was from Greece. Adrien had giggled behind his fingers and his father had laughed, an unfamiliar sound that’s faded in memory now, but a bright and real one nonetheless.

It had been a good day, until mother had come down with a cold during dinner and Adrien had jolted out of sleep from a nightmare about giant, ugly orange hats that snatched up his mother with their ribbon-like fingers and took her away from him forever.

He’d sprinted through the house like the horrible hat monsters from his dream were on his heels, slipping in his socks up to the cracked door of his father’s study.

He hadn’t needed to knock, then, or even schedule a meeting. He’d slid through the doorway and barreled into his father, only to be caught by strong arms and swept into his father’s lap, warm and safe from any monsters that dared to follow him here.

“I’m worried about your mother, too,” his father had said. “But it’s just a cold, you see? Nothing to go slipping and falling down the stairs about.”

He’d received nothing but a sniffle in response.

“Alright.” Fingers had pinched around his nose as his father sighed. “How about we read a story then, until you’re not so frightened? Just you and me.”

The book they’d started that night was about a prince and a planet and a rose, and Adrien still remembers the sound his father’s voice made as it resonated where Adrien’s cheek pressed against his chest, his arms holding tight and warm around him, like nothing bad could slip in from outside and hurt him.

It’s a favorite memory of his, one Adrien finds springing back to mind whenever Father gives him a smile, half-formed and distanced as they are.

Lately, though, it’s a memory that stings to think about. It makes it harder to look Father in the eye, for some reason.

————

“And like, I really can’t say this enough, but I’m so sorry.”

“I told you, Nino, it’s fi—”

“No seriously, dude, I’m really sorry, I—”

“Nino.”

His friend finally jerks out from his puddle of miserable apologies, and Adrien gives him a weary smile. “It’s fine. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I dragged you into the boiler room then got akumatized,” Nino says, distressed. “That’s worse than like, the plot of eight different horror movies.”

“Your head was shaped like a giant blue tear, it wasn’t that scary,” Adrien assures him.

“I am ninety percent sure I remember shoving you to the floor,” Nino moans, not reassured in the least.

Part of Adrien’s mind, the part that sounds a little too much like a spurned cat whom hell hath no fury, or however the saying goes, wants to pipe up with the fact that getting shoved to the floor was five-star treatment compared to what Nino (akuma, Nino’s akuma, that’s important) had proceeded to do to him afterwards.

The bus-slamming thing had hurt.

Not as much as hurting Nino would’ve, though.

So instead, Adrien gives Nino the kindest smile he can, lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says, “As if the akuma gave you the biceps to pull that off.”

“Hey,” Nino knocks their shoulders together, his guilt ridden expression easing just a bit as he gives him a half-hearted grin. “I’m ripped, bro.”

It takes Adrien a moment to reply, too busy fighting the overwhelmingly — traitor — urge to follow the warmth of contact with Nino like a starving animal. He doesn’t need to fight for too long — his brain throws everyone thinks you’re a joke at him just in time for Adrien to hunch his shoulders in and give Nino an awkward little grin of his own.

Maybe his brain’s a traitor too, though, because he doesn’t remember Nino even saying that about Chat Noir.

He thinks.

Hopes.

Actually, his brain can go sit in a corner if it’s going to keep throwing stuff like this at him. Shaking anything and everything knowledge-wise that belongs to Chat Noir from his mind, Adrien turns his attention back to the scribbled game of hangman they’ve been playing on the corner of Nino’s history notes. Group projects are supposed to be fun, anyways, especially with Nino.

“Uh, c,” he guesses.

Nino adds a single c to the blank letter spaces. Adrien squints at the paper, his mouth downturning at the suspiciously familiar arrangement he has so far.

_adia_t, ca_ef_ee, d_ea_y

“Nino,” he says, carefully.

Nino smirks. “Mm-hm.”

“If this has anything to do with perfume ads—”

“Uh-huh?”

“Then I hate you.”

Nino cackles, scribbling in the rest of the rest of the accursed phrase as Max loudly hushes him. Adrien rolls his eyes and huffs, but he’s unable to stop the small smile of amusement. It quickly fades as his words to Nino echo with an uncomfortable emphasis in his head.

You’re being stupid, he tells himself. Adrien pushes away the nagging feeling. Nino knows he’s not serious. He knows Adrien doesn’t actually hate him. Just like Adrien knows Nino didn’t mean it, when he said all that stuff about Chat Noir.

His fingers tighten around his pencil. He’s not supposed to be thinking about that. Nino apologized, to Chat Noir himself, and just because Adrien can’t get the sting out, it doesn’t mean that Nino meant anything genuine by it.

Overly dramatic, Adrien reminds himself. Way too emotional.

The ache in his chest makes itself known again with a pang, and Adrien bites the inside of his cheek, glancing at Nino from the corners of his eyes.

Maybe he should tell Nino he cares about him, just to be sure. The words form in his mind, only to catch abruptly in his throat, thick and cloying. He thinks of how thoughtlessly he’s been able to tell Father he loves him. Thinks of how easy it’s always been to tell Ladybug how much she means to him.

He thinks of how neither of them seem to like meeting him in the eyes, lately.

He swallows the words, opting to smile brightly at Nino instead. It’s probably for the best. Nino’s always been better at picking up on people’s feelings, anyways, and he doesn’t need the kind of nagging assurance Adrien does. And it’s not like Adrien’s had much luck telling people he loves them, lately. Actually, if you look at his track record, he probably hasn’t…had any luck at all.

Adrien shakes his head, shoving the coldness creeping into his chest as far to the corner of his mind as he can, and sketches out enough blank spaces on the paper to spell fake mustaches are the new sexy.

If he can still make Nino laugh, it’s fine. He wouldn’t be laughing if he thought Adrien was annoying and obnoxious.

So see? It’s fine.

————

Adrien thinks about elastics, sometimes. The stretchy, rubber kind that Mme Thurston uses to pull back the longer locks of his hair while she’s doing his makeup, tying it up in a neat little explosion on top of his head that makes him look like a blond weed. She makes it look easy, twisting the little bands around and around, until they’re tight enough to hold his hair in place.

(Adrien’s hair is always easy, of course. Chat Noir’s hair, on the other hand, would probably give Mme Thurston nightmares. Mainly because Adrien has a fun little habit of shaking his head side to side until it’s an unrecognizable blond disaster, but that’s not particularly relevant.)

(Ladybug doesn’t even need to use elastics, opting for the soft strands of ribbon that hold her pigtails in perfect place.)

Adrien doesn’t normally use elastic bands either, but he likes the way they feel when he’s nervous, stretching and rubbery, then snapping perfectly back into place, like he’d never twisted them all out of proportion at all. The way he can hook his fingers in both ends and pull and pull and pull, but they never quite snap.

Felix has a fun trick with those, when they do photoshoots together.

(When they used to.)

He’ll press a little elastic against Adrien’s arm and pull the end back, just far enough, then let it snap back into place, stinging little red marks when it slaps against skin.

“Stop it,” Adrien scowls at him, but the expression wavers. Playful isn’t a word he uses along with Felix very often, but photoshoots are always more entertaining with him, at least. Or they were, until his mother disappears, and family photoshoots grind to an utter and complete halt forever—

—just for now, his father says, until something changes, until that something happens, until that metaphorical other foot that’s always hanging over Adrien’s head finally stomps its way back to earth and demolishes him in the process—

Felix replies by stretching another elastic between his fingers, shooting it toward him this time like a little slingshot. Adrien snags it out of the air, slotting it between his own fingers to fire back. It misses by a miserable meter and a half, because at the time this conversation takes place, he and Ladybug haven’t stayed up all night practicing their aim by trying to hit the left ear of Le Stryge on Notre-Dame.

Felix snorts, snatching the elastic from the floor, and makes a show of placing the band back against Adrien’s wrist. He pulls it back with a meaningful look, like an exasperated teacher. “It’s the bounce back that hurts,” he tells him. “Not the stretching part. When it snaps back to place—” He demonstrates by releasing the band, and Adrien flinches at the tiny sting. “—that’s the part that hurts.”

Four years later, having up close and personally experienced what a shattered ribcage stabbing into your lungs feels like, Adrien wants to correct Felix on tiny little elastic bands and what actually hurts, but the point, he guesses, is that he still remembers what it felt like.

He still thinks about those elastics sometimes, and how far they can be pulled until they snap back into place. How the little rubber band can make it so far, get so close to breaking, only to snap right back to where it started.

(Chat Noir doesn’t use elastics, either.)

————

For all that Adrien will stand by stuffing the worst of his emotions into a box and never thinking about them ever as a perfectly reasonable way to go about handling things —and whatever Plagg says doesn’t count, he’s a kwami who compares emotions to cheese — Adrien really does believe in communication as key.

Living it out is just. Another thing entirely.

But Adrien’s lived his life with a cold mansion’s worth of words left unsaid, so on principle, he really does believe that if something’s important, you should say it. Maybe nobody will really listen to you, or take you seriously, but at least you’ll have said it, and maybe at some point they’ll remember you said it, and it’ll mean something to them.

But maybe that’s what stopping him this time — he just can’t decide if it’s the idea of not being listened to that scares him, or the idea of actually being heard that’s worse.

It’s not like he wants to tell Ladybug he’s upset. It’s not like he even wants to be upset.

It doesn’t change the fact that he is, kind of, a little bit, (a lot) — but again, on principle, Adrien just — he doesn’t like being upset. It’s all uncomfortable and hot and it sits on his chest like a rock, weighing heavier and heavier until he learns to get over it.

It’s only worse when he tries to say something about it, because that never works. Maybe it’s a really sucky side effect of being homeschooled for most of his life, but every time Adrien opens his mouth to tell someone he’s upset with them and here’s why, it always backfires spectacularly. There’s a weird moment where something happens and the other person says their part, and suddenly Adrien’s complaints sound so stupid he wants to crawl in a hole and hide. There’s a dizzying one-eighty and Adrien’s suddenly the one in the wrong, and the other person’s upset at him, and now he’s got to apologize before he makes it worse than he already has.

And granted, most of those other people are just Father (or Father’s tinny voice through the phone), but he’s already enough to beat the lesson in.

Metaphorically, of course. Always — always metaphorically. Adrien’s never doubted otherwise.

“Maybe I’m just that bad at arguing,” he mutters, swiping darkly at his phone screen.

“I dunno,” Nino says, his voice consoling. “I mean, you were pretty good at it when you argued me into watching that one anime the other night.”

Adrien rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t upset with you about that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Nino winks at him. “Unless your voice going all high-pitched about why Sailor Moon is the peak of animation is your default setting.”

“I wasn’t upset with you, though,” Adrien shakes his head, cutting him off. “I’m never upset with you.”

And he isn’t, really. Not even when Nino tells him, in an admittedly roundabout way, that he’s annoying and irritating and has loose and shady moral commitment to love and all its forms (or something like that).

He means, it stings, but only in the way Felix’s little rubber band snaps do. Not enough to justify picking an argument with Nino. Not to justify upsetting him, and possibly losing the one friend who’s stuck by him through the worst and actually shares stuff with him these days.

Adrien bites down on the inside of his cheek. If he’s not careful with the way his train of thought’s been steering itself lately, he’s going to accidentally show Ladybug how upset he is, and that’s—

Well, the fallout of that will hurt a lot worse than a little elastic band snap.

A lot worse than it already does, so. Back in your corner, resentful thoughts.

“Uh-huh.” There’s a quiet edge of suspicion in Nino’s voice, and Adrien stiffens, suddenly feeling horribly seen. The look Nino’s pinned on him doesn’t help at all, searching and curious and—

Concerned? Upset? Angry?

Adrien doesn’t know. He thinks it’s concern, but he’s also been thinking Ladybug’s been amused with him when she’s apparently just been annoyed, so who knows, really—

Shut up, Adrien tells his subconscious furiously. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“It’s okay, if you are,” Nino says hesitantly, perhaps having picked up on whatever storm of emotions are slipping through Adrien’s schooled expression. “Upset, I mean. At your old man or me. It’s better to talk to people upfront, y’know? Otherwise…”

Nino’s expression twists in guilt, and Adrien’s lungs feel a little like they’re shriveling up and dying. Or maybe that’s just his chest on the whole, collapsing in on itself and taking Adrien’s ability to breath right with it.

He isn’t upset. He’s not. He doesn’t need to talk to anyone upfront about it, because there’s nothing to talk about in the first place. He’s not going to be overly dramatic about this too, he’s not. He’s just— it’s just—

Is it personal? Was it something he did, that made Ladybug trust everyone else but him? Did he slip up at some point and he just — he can’t remember? She’d told him, she’d promised they were fine after New York, but maybe she’d changed her mind without telling him and decided he needed to figure out on his own where he messed up if he was ever going to be worthy of her trust agai—

“I’ll be — I’ve gotta — restroom,” Adrien stammers, shooting up from his seat and all but sprinting for the doors.

“Wait, Adrien—!”

Nino’s panicked call is lost as Adrien flies down the hall, slipping down the stairs to the bathrooms on the first floor where he’s less likely to be found. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to cry, or anything so humiliating, but there’s an awful crushing sensation in his chest that makes him think he might do something he’ll regret. Or say something, any of the raging thoughts that bang off the insides of his skull with hurt. Something he won’t be able to take back.

Adrien wavers, planting both hands on the edge of the sink and staring at the white porcelain. His breathing sounds odd in the echo of the bathroom, wavering and off-beat. His vision swims traitorously, so he glares up at the mirror instead, only to falter as he catches sight of his reflection.

He looks…not great. Pale skin and bloodshot eyes in the way that’s likely to make Nathalie call a doctor on him. Which would be just fantastically ironic, considering she’s the one who needs a doctor, even if she’s never going to admit it and keep lying to him. Just like Ladybug, all careful smiles and words chosen with forced, casual caution, staring at him with eyes that are a million other places except actually seeing him.

Stop, he tells himself furiously, squeezing his eyes shut. Stop. Ladybug is not Father. Ladybug is Ladybug, his best friend and partner and he trusts her, he trusts her to have her reasons for not telling him. He has to trust her. He does trust her, he—

A sharp cracking sound tears Adrien from his thoughts, and he snaps his head up to find seven of his own disjointed faces staring back at him. He blinks, and suddenly the faces are clinking to the floor, broken fragments of the mirror scattering around his shoes.

His first thought, apart from a bizarre sense of not being entirely in his body, is a well-timed curse word.

Instead, what he gets out is, “Seven years bad luck,” muttered, almost absently, beneath his breath.

Typical. He wonders if moonlighting as a black cat-themed superhero that leans heavily into exaggerated acrobatics counts as crossing one. Like he needs more bad luck, right now.

What he actually needs, is…

Is…

He needs an escape.

From everything, it feels like, but for now, Adrien will settle for an escape from the school bathroom with all the mirrors that just broke.

…somehow.

————

For all that he throws fits of drama about it, the thing is, Adrien has escaped.

He’s made it out of the house, to school. He’s learned physics and grammar and math that Nathalie taught him six months ago, and he’s learned how to play hangman and cut class and tell your friend’s fortune with folded paper. He’s made friends, real friends, and he’s learned how to muffle loud giggles on the phone at night and what kinds of snack food Nino likes and doesn’t like. He’s learned how to pick up on a whole slew of emotions other than disappointment and apathy and mildly reserved approval, and he’s learned how to tell when other people are hurting.

(He’s learned how to tell how he’s hurting, but he’s unlearned that one faster.)

He’s learned the words it takes to voice that Father isn’t always right, learned how to curl his fingers tight enough into his palms that they don’t shake so much anymore, and he’s learned how to stretch like a rubber band against people’s anger, bending without breaking.

(He’s also learned about the perks of night vision and bone density and six different ways to trip someone up with the leather belt you’ve got tied around your waist like a tail, but he can’t credit school for those.)

And he thinks — he thinks he’s come so far, he’s learned so much, he’s so much stronger now—

Then his father’s eyes soften just enough to resemble the eyes of the man who held him close and told him how much he loved him, loves him, who stayed up all night reading Adrien’s favorite book to him and whose lap was the safest, warmest place in the world, and Adrien—

Hates himself. Hates himself as he snaps right back into place, right back into the Adrien who crumbles at Father’s slightest snap of tone. Hates himself so much it stings.  

Because it’s so much easier to do that, than it is to hate his father.

————

Adrien doesn’t particularly want to go to the photoshoot after school, especially not now that mirrors are literally breaking at the sight of his face, but — and here’s the fits of drama again — like everything else Father’s deigned to want, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

Technically, though, Adrien fantasizes as he fixes his eyes upward so the makeup artist can do her best to hide the darkening circles beneath them (“—really, dear, do you sleep at all these days—”), he could give himself a choice. He could make it fun, too, striking the perfect pose before transforming into Chat Noir right smack in front of the entire studio crew, and then Father would have something truly inspired to review that evening. A perfect snapshot of Adrien cataclysm-ing his merry way out of the studio and out into the gloriously free outside, that’s what.

Except then Adrien would have way too many choices to make, and even less all at once. The identity thing, being one. How to avoid Ladybug murdering him and dancing atop his grave, for another. Not that he thinks Ladybug is capable of murdering anyone, of course—

(—no, that’s solely reserved for him and his powers alone—)

—but he can imagine she’d be angry, were he to stage a reveal that way.

Were he to stage a reveal at all, Adrien thinks sourly, blinking until the stiff feeling of the makeup beneath his eyes fades. His makeup artist’s had to use the thick kind today, the extra-strength stuff that’s going to take forever to wash off. He stifles the urge to swipe at it, trying to relax into the feeling instead. Makeup is familiar, consistent. Sure, it’s technically another lie, but it’s one Adrien’s at least aware of. Makeup, he can see through. He can put it on and take it off himself, exercising some tiny semblance of control over what’s being hidden from the world.

Everything else, though…

“Carefree, my boy, carefree,” Vincent implores, his eyebrows furrowing as Adrien snaps himself back to the present. “You look as if you’re being drowned in mud, not soaring above the clouds.”

Adrien’s cheeks puff up as he blows his breath out, short and frustrated. At least Vincent is every bit as prone to fits of drama as he is, he reminds himself. It’s better to be stuck with someone passionate than someone as open as a brick wall, even if it is just Vincent antagonizing him with a camera again.

“Sorry,” he offers, giving him a weak grin. “I’ll get it this time, promise.”

Vincent doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he rambles about lighting and angles instead of scolding Adrien, which he can’t help but be grateful for. It allows Adrien a moment to let the smile drop, staring at the ground instead of the brightening lights around him.

He toes sullenly at the smooth linoleum of the floor, the solid black of Father’s logo glaring back at him from the side of his sneaker. Maybe he should just get more sleep. Maybe all the ugly tangled emotions in his chest are just residual buildup from being overtired, that’s all. Ladybug mentioned the stress getting to her a little while back, her own eyes bloodshot and exhausted. Adrien’s brilliant solution had been to take her to the movies, which had gone just as brilliantly as every other time he’s tried something like that, which is not very well at all. He’d been worried about her, though, even before she’d thrown him from a roof on accident. Ladybug carries so much on her shoulders, and strong as they are, Adrien knows what it’s like to be strung so tightly that even the slightest extra weight feels like it’ll snap you. He sees the same weight in his own eyes, now, even blinded by the studio lights.

His stomach twists. Ladybug’s eyes aren’t half as bloodshot lately. There’s an easiness to her that wasn’t there before, a lightening of tension, and yes, Adrien’s happy she’s feeling better, he’s nothing but glad that she isn’t so exhausted and worn, but…

But she’d trusted him before, even when she was strung her tightest. And now that there’s relief in her eyes, now that he’s taking a backseat and Ladybug adds more allies to their roster by the day, allies that she knows but he doesn't, allies that Alya and Nino probably know too, just like everything else, now that—

Was he the problem? Was it his fault, that Ladybug’s eyes turned shadowed and her movements wavered? He’s tried, he’s tried to be a rock for her, to be something constant and consistent as Adrien himself wants, but the horrible feeling that he’s not enough is now warring with the awful feeling that he’s the problem in the first place, because — why else? Why else would she shut him out like this? Why else would she decide he’s untrustworthy, after all this time, why—

The lights against his vision suddenly flare painfully bright, so bright Adrien’s forced to stagger back.

Vincent jolts away with a cry, waving his hand frantically as the camera sparks and sputters. Echoed cries of surprise ring throughout the studio as the overhead lights flicker wildly, turning the studio into a frightening mockery of a particularly bad nightclub.  

Adrien stumbles again, alarm coursing through his veins like a cold burst of water, and he darts for the intern nearby, who’s fallen over in her scramble to back away from the strobing lights. She’s just taken his hand when the lights go dark, plunging the studio into blackness. Before anyone can react beyond a frightened shriek, the lights snap back on, bright and steady as if nothing’s happened.

Adrien slowly pulls the intern to her feet, staring at the blazing lights as his vision swims, blinking against the sudden onslaught of dark spots in his eyes.

“Is it an akuma?” the intern asks, her eyes wild with fear. “Should we — should we evacuate?”

Adrenaline shoots through Adrien’s veins, his head whipping back and forth as he searches for a spark of purple, for the familiar edge of butterfly’s wings. But there’s nothing out of place, save the sputtering camera Vincent’s fretting over. There’s no sign of garish transformation, no following explosions, no loudly proclaimed demands for miraculous. In fact, if Adrien hadn’t seen it himself, it would appear as if nothing’s ever happened at all.

“It could’ve been the power lines,” someone suggests. “This place is pretty old, you know.”

“With Agreste’s standards?” someone else mutters. “I doubt it.”

“The camera is broken. Unsalvageable,” Vincent announces over the outbreak of murmurs. To his credit, he barely sounds shaken. “It must have been a power failure, or a blown fuse, I suppose. Nothing we can help.”

Vincent’s word is all the rest of the crew needs, and before Adrien can clamber up to inspect the lights himself, he’s being ushered from the studio, another intern furiously muttering about how she refuses to be fired for losing a model to “subpar building inspections” or something along those lines.

Adrien, who is already anticipating Father’s reaction himself, can’t blame her for bailing the moment he’s in the Gorilla’s hands.

————

Adrien is six years and three months old when his father finally finishes reading Le Petite Prince to him, and he comes the closest he ever has to throwing a fit at the ending.

He doesn’t actually throw a fit, of course, because then his father might not read to him ever again. That they finished this book together is already more precious as anything Adrien’s ever owned, and he won’t ruin that with his dramatics.

“Not all stories have the happy endings you want, Adrien,” his father tells him. Adrien feels his arms tighten around his shoulders, where he sits snugly in his father’s lap. “Sometimes you must make the most of what you have.”

Even at a young age, Adrien knows that he has quite a lot. The knowledge only grows as he does, just how much he has from his last name alone. His room alone could rival some people’s homes, Adrien has no right to want for anything.

And yet.

Sometimes, Adrien thinks back to the deep timbre of his father’s voice as he reads about yellow snakes and desert flowers and feels a stinging sense of loss so sharply it takes his breath away.

Other times, though, Adrien thinks about his father choosing to read a story about a boy who could only return home by letting a snake poison him, and wonders what that says about their relationship.

It’s not even Father’s icy tone that hurts anymore, really, Adrien thinks, as he picks at his dinner. Not that he’s likely to hear that tone tonight. Father’s locked himself firmly in his office again, and even Nathalie is nowhere to be seen. It’s quiet enough that Adrien’s gotten away with heating up the cheapest dinner they have in the house, and scouring enough cheese for Plagg that he won’t be complaining for a month.

Well, a day, maybe. Plagg’s a special kind of greedy.

But it’s painstakingly clear that Adrien will be dining alone, tonight. There hasn’t even been a single message fro Nathalie, informing him of all the lessons he’s been falling short in lately. Adrien twists his fork in his hand, setting it down with a weary sigh as dark spots flicker before his eyes again.

At least there won’t be anyone to lecture him, he tells himself, tapping absently on the table. The smooth wood looks immaculate beneath his fingers, the edge of his pinky still a bruised purple from the other evening, when Adrien misjudged the distance from the rooftop to his own window.  

Father won’t be able to lecture him about that, either, so it’s a good thing, really. It’s a good thing, that no one will be saying anything to him about the studio mishap earlier, or the darker than usual circles beneath his eyes, or he way he’s been showing up late more often than not to everything. Not about his slipping grades, or the way he keeps forgetting to hide his glare when photoshoots run longer than they’re supposed to.

It’s a good thing, Adrien tells himself, as his fingers clench around the table’s edge. It’s a good thing that he’s alone tonight. Being alone and unseen is much better than the alternative. It’s a good thing, that he can stew in whatever ugly emotions keep threatening to rise to the surface all by himself, where he won’t risk hurting anyone else with them. He can’t mess anything up if no one’s there to see it, so really, it’s a good thing, it’s—

It hits him, all-encompassing and overwhelming all at once.

Unwanted, thick and horrible and choking, the sensation of being traded out and traded off and stepped over, left behind and left out and laughed at in vicious whispers, closed doors and closed expressions and locking him out, like bars sliding down from the ceiling and cutting him off, trapped in place like an animal in the zoo, entertaining for a heartbeat than easily moved past for something better, unwanted and untrusted and alone, alone, alone again—

Adrien buckles and something howls in his ears, his hands burning as his fingers crunch through wood and his vision whites out.

For a heartbeat, Adrien isn’t Adrien — he’s the swelling of flames as fire catches light, he’s the pull of the undertow as it rips across the shore, he’s the blazing burst of lightning against metal, he’s on the edge of a cliff and stepping off—

And then he’s Adrien again, small and shaking and breathing in large, heaving gasps, trying desperately not to throw up all over the table.

“—drien, kid, Adrien, please!”

Adrien tears his hands from the table as if it’s shocked him. Black flecks drift from his fingers as they tremble, and Plagg splits into three as he flits in front of him, six pairs of green eyes staring at him in blazing concern.

“Plagg?” He barely recognizes his own voice, and his throat feels like sandpaper.

“Breathe,” Plagg orders as his image solidifies back to one, more serious than Adrien can remember him sounding. “You gotta breathe, Adrien.”

He does, in stuttering, shaky gasps, because Adrien will do anything Plagg asks him to. He’ll light himself on fire if he wanted, because Plagg is all he’s got.

Plagg is here, and that means more to Adrien than anything else could.

“Breathing,” he finally croaks out. “I’m — breathing, see? S’all good.”

It is most certainly not all good, because Adrien still feels like he got thrown off a building and into a blender, but Plagg almost looks frightened, looking from Adrien to the table to Adrien again, and—

Adrien freezes. The table. The stupidly, enormous, ridiculously expensive, lonely table his family’s supposed to use. The table he definitely, most certainly felt crunch under his hands.

Adrien follows Plagg’s gaze downwards, and suddenly feels like he’s going to throw up again.

“Oh,” he whispers.

Ice coats the inside of his chest, cold and creeping. The sidewalk. The mirrors, the studio camera, and now this.

“Adrien.” Plagg sounds so very serious.

He could explain most of it away. It’d be — it would be easy.

But this?

Adrien stares at the half-decayed table, ashes still flaking from the sides in a way that’s horribly distinctive of his cataclysm. A spiderwebbed path of smoldering destruction, all tracing back to where his fingers had been white-knuckled at the table’s edge.

Something snaps in the chandelier above him, cracking once and fizzling off into sparks.

It feels like something’s snapped in Adrien’s head. Maybe he’s lost it. Maybe he’s finally gone off the edge, and that — that can be his excuse, when Father asks him what, exactly, he did to the table. He can tell Father they’ve both lost it, they’ve both gone mad, and wouldn’t mom think this was all so funny—

A sound like a sob rips itself from his chest, before Adrien can strangle it into submission. He can’t lose it now. He can’t break down, he has to — he has to come up with a way to explain this, he has to find an escape, or Father’s going to be so angry, and so cold, and…and…

Adrien goes still. Like ice, numb and calming, he realizes he doesn’t have to worry about excuses. He doesn’t have to worry about any of that at all. No one’s coming. Not to check on him. The silence of the house is overpowering, the tiny patter of the vaporized table bits as they land on the floor almost thunderous.

“Adrien,” Plagg repeats, softer this time. “I need you to look at me.”

Slowly, he lifts his head, meeting Plagg’s bright green eyes with his own. Something in Plagg’s expression goes tight, a myriad of emotions flickering in his eyes before he schools them back into careful calm.

“Oh, kid.” Plagg’s voice is gentle. It still sounds like a lament.

Adrien tears his gaze away, swallowing. His fingers, still shaking, curl into unsteady fists. They feel odd, almost scalded. Adrien ignores it.

He can hide the table, he tells himself. He can fix the chandelier. No one will notice. He can hide this.

He’s Adrien Agreste.

He can deal with a couple of cracks in his facade.

[agusvedder]

How season 11 outlined the romantic endgames.

I understand fear of disappointment, I understand, believe me. But this season (along with all the Dabb and Carver era) pointed out perfectly and outlined the romantic endgames for our boys, and the obstacles.

Endgames? Found family, Sam with Eileen, Dean with Cas. Freedom. Peace. 

Obstacles? Their own inhability of moving on, of changing, of acknowledging traumas and pain, and healing. Chuck.

As I pointed out on a different post about Season’s 13 THE ROAD SO FAR, they decided to use “Nothing else matters” to start the whole season. In the moment Hetfield sings “Forever trust in who we are” we see Sam hugging Eileen and Dean hugging Cas. 

Ring any bells?

I think that speaks for itself. At that specific moment of the show Eileen was dead, and Cas too. 

Why would they ‘show us Eileen in season 13′s opening if they didn’t plan on bringing her back later? Same with Cas?

(Eileen was gone until the last minute of episode 19, that Jack bring her, and everybody, back...)

FOREVER TRUST IN WHO WE ARE.

Forever is just the future word for ALWAYS. 

They were ALWAYS real. Always. 

(btw, I will NEVER stop talking about that road so far cause I love Metallica and ir brings me to tears)

On a season where the most important thing is what’s real and what’s not they decided to canonize both couples. Bring Eileen back from the dead, finally use Cas’s empty plot to show us that his happiness is loving Dean inconditionally. 

An amazing example of how Season 11 outlined the endgames is one of my favorites: “Into The Mystic”. They introduced Eileen on an episode where Castiel was possessed by Lucifer, pretending to be Cas to talk to Dean. 

Too many bells, halp.-

(HEHEHE! pain is my middle name) 

In that episode we meet Sam Winchester’s perfect woman, badass, smart,  planning to go to law school, lost her parents when she was a baby too, and she’s a MOL legacy. 

(Dude, first episode with her! THOSE HEART EYES!)

But this . . . this. 

Ring another bell?

“What the hell are you talking about, man?”

(That’s what I thought you’d say, you dumb fucking Dean)

At the end of the episode, Dean was left with a burning desire of following his heart and the pressing matter that he’s pining for someone (who’s not Amara, like he said in that same episode, he’s not in love with her), and we see Sam saving a pamphlet of the retirement home, showing us he still sees that light at the end of the tunnel. 

It’s made clear Dean was frustrated by the whole Amara situation but also seeing Cas not giving a fuck about it, not feeling the slight sign of jealousy, saying his bond with Amara is a good thing that can help them draw her out aka using him as bait.

In the end of this very same episode Sam apologizes to Dean for not searching for him when he was in purgatory (4 years later!!) and Dean shrugs him off cause that’s not really important for him anymore. What’s important for both of them is what happened during purgatory. Dean searched for Cas inceasently, praying to him every night, refusing to leave without him, and willing to die to get him out of there. In that very same moment, Sam gave up hunting to stay with the woman he loved (and a dog!!). He literally gave up, he wanted retirement. The same thing Mildred talked about with Dean in Into The Mystic. Just like Dean wanted it on season 13′s finale. 

To be honest, we can clearly see how Sam was certain of what he wanted for his future way before Dean did. That’s why he stayed with Amelia in season 8, that’s why he asked his brother 7 episodes before meeting Eileen if he ever thought about settling down with “someone who gets the life”. why he tried to give his number to “Piper” on that same episode. He’s been ready for settling down with someone for years now. And now he has his finally ever after with Eileen cause Chuck’s finally out the board.

Dean on the other side is so repressed with his feelings and wants that well, he cannot allow himself to let the sun shine on his face, and finally “Being”... finally “Say It”. 

What convinces me that Cas is coming back for a last episode, is that he’s the first step for Dean to accept what he wants for his future, he’s the only one who’s left for Dean to take the decision of being finally happy. He’s a constant in Dean’s life, and Dean loves Cas just as much as Cas loves Dean. He cannot function without Cas. He’s been forever saved and changed thanks to him. 

Also because he fucking deserve to end up with the man he loves so fully.

Dean’s arc is still open, Cas’s too. Sam’s not. He already have what he wanted, he can finally retire and be with the woman he love.

---

The whole plot of season 11 is connected directly to season 15. Amara, Cas’s depression and the look for his own faith/sense of purpose, Dean’s romantic conflict with Cas (He literally’s been screaming “Cas” the whole fucking season), Sam in look for what’s real and not, thinking he was talking to God when he was being manipulated by Lucifer (The gun wound that connected him to God, the visions, The Devil In The Details, a very very important episode for Sammy’s overall story), Rowena’s redeption arc, Chuck revealing he’s God. Don’t Call Me Shurley. Billie and the Empty being introduced into the storyline! 

I invite you guys to watch Dabb’s era again, it’s a plethora of unanswered questions (who finally found it’s answers this season), search for the sense of self, purpose, beating depression, redemption arcs for the villains, forgiveness. Family. Family. FAMILY. FA M I L Y .

[neonthewrite]

Washed Up Winchesters 2

Jacob has brought the waterlogged strangers to shore, where his smaller friends can help them get back on their feet. There's only one issue ... we're not in Kansas - ehhh, Blefuscu anymore!

Cowritten with @nightmares06, the writer behind the @brothersapart multiverse!

Reading time ~10 minutes.

( 1 ) -2- ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 )

Story Tag

~~~~~

Jacob looked down just in time to see that exhausted lean. He paused his trek through the now-waist-deep water to move his hands even closer to his chest. The tiny knife rested precariously on his knuckle, no longer clung to as a desperate defense by the tiny little person in his hand. Now both of them were out cold, reminding him how much trouble they’d been in when he spotted them.

If he hadn’t rushed out to get to them fast enough …

He didn’t let himself dwell on it. Instead, as carefully as he could, he moved his hands together so he could gently settle the second guy down on his palm next to the first. They lay exhausted and unconscious, hopefully getting plenty of warmth from his hand. For all he knew, they could have been out on the water for hours before he wandered by. That knife tumbled to rest near the first of the two, and he hoped they wouldn’t wake up and decide to put it to use on him.

Hunting monsters. Does that include giants?

On his way back to shore, Jacob kept his eye on the pair of them, but they didn’t stir. By the time the water was barely up to his knees, he worried they might be worse off than he thought.

He was so preoccupied, he missed a small voice calling out for him at first. Back on dry land, with water rushing off of him and almost creating a small lagoon, he didn’t know what approach to take next.

“Jacob! What the hell!”

He finally glanced down to find a familiar, tiny shape waving frantically at him from the seaside cliffs. Those didn’t even come up to half his height, so he squatted down to put himself closer to Chase’s level.

“Chase, they were just floating out there on the water,” he explained. His voice pitched higher with worry, and he held his hand out to the cliff edge for Chase to see.

Chase, normally always ready with a joke or a cheesy remark, was serious as he beheld the bedraggled forms collapsed on Jacob’s hand. “Holy shit!” he hissed, hopping onto Jacob’s fingers like a ramp. He gingerly stepped around the pair and knelt down to see them closer, but frowned. “They were out in the water? How far?”

Jacob leaned closer as if he might see the pair as well as Chase could. “Pretty far. I couldn’t even stand up.”

Chase shook his head and his pitch black hair waved messily. “O-okay. Well. We should probably get them some help. Bring us all back to the house, alright? They probably need blankets, and stuff, or something. I dunno.”

Jacob nodded. “Let me know if they look like they’re gonna wake up before we get there,” he said, before rising to his feet with three tiny people on his hand.

~~~

The first thing Sam noticed, upon waking up, was how dry his mouth was.

Drawing in a raspy breath, Sam turned his head to the side and coughed. His throat was scratchy and dry, as though he'd had no water in hours. Squinting his eyes open, he blinked a few times, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings keeping him confused.

"Dee--" Sam only got the first sound of Dean's name out before his voice gave out and he coughed again. Licking his lips, he tried again, this time forcing out a "Dean?"

“Oh, shit!” a voice from somewhere else blurted. Footsteps followed, echoing slightly in the room lit mostly by tall windows on one side. Thin curtains wafted in a slight breeze, creating a gentle but bright view above where Sam lay.

Until suddenly someone was leaning over him to check on him. Sam balked back, deeper into the pillow his head was resting on.

“Hey, dude,” Chase greeted quietly. “Take it easy, okay? Your guy is on the other couch,” he leaned back and glanced over his shoulder to indicate the couch sitting opposite the one Sam occupied. Dean was there, wrapped in blankets and towels just like Sam, after their prolonged dip in the ocean. “It’s uh. We couldn’t get you guys to any beds to rest, so. Couches it is.”

He belatedly realized that he had a glass of water in his hand. “You probably need this, right? Man, I’m glad to see you’re awake. Had us worried there.”

Before anything, Sam glanced in the direction indicated to see Dean sprawled out, a boot sticking out of the blankets wrapped around him. Relieved to see that his brother had survived their short attempt at infiltration, Sam sank down into the cushions, accepting the water and tenderly wetting his mouth so he could talk. "Thanks," Sam managed. The water had helped. He was left with a thousand questions about just how they'd gotten here, though, considering the last he recalled, they had been floating in the ocean, long abandoned by the ship they'd taken out. Trying to condense those questions into one, all Sam could get out was "Who are you?"

Chase grinned. “Name's Chase. This is my house. My friend pulled you guys out of the water clear out in the bay and brought you here since he, ah, doesn't go into town much. Ta-da!” He held his hands open to grandly display the tidy, modestly-decorated living room.

Quickly enough, a more serious look replaced his bemused expression. “Other than, yknow, almost drowning … are you hurt or anything?”

Sam shook his head quickly, then paused to actually check. Other than the general aches and pains that came from hours keeping afloat in the ocean, nothing stood out to Sam as abnormal. “No, but Dean took the fall harder,” Sam admitted. He sipped at the water, then pushed himself up. He needed to check on Dean and make sure there weren’t any injuries.

So far, Dean hadn’t roused or budged since Sam and Chase had started talking. Much like Sam, he was still in the same clothes as when they were on the boat, with the towels and blankets bundled around to keep him warm.

When he got over, Sam checked to make sure Dean was breathing steadily. The leather jacket his older brother was known for was bundled up nearby, drenched with salt water.

“Dean’s not gonna be happy,” Sam commented dryly when he saw the state the jacket was in. He looked over at Chase. “How’d we get here? Last I knew, we were stranded with land too far off to see.”

Chase’s smile was more subdued this time as he tried to figure out how to approach the topic. From what he’d heard, one of these guys was quite freaked out when Jacob had found them, and he didn’t want to cause more upset while they were still in his house. “My friend Jacob actually spotted you and got you out of the water in the nick of time,” he hedged. “He was pretty worried, we had to send him on a walk so he wasn’t just pacing in the backyard wondering if he’d let you drown.”

He glanced at the curtained windows. “Guess you were already passed out when he showed up,” he said more gently. “I can get my sister to go find him, if ya want?”

“Yeah, if you could,” Sam said offhandedly, the importance of Chase’s statement not really sinking in. He wanted to thank their rescuer for himself, as soon as possible.

After, he would need to get Dean up to see what he remembered. They were on a case, after all. If they kept getting held up, by the time they caught up to the ship there’d be a trail of bodies to follow.

They had started out ten steps ahead on this case. How had it all gone so wrong?

"Just a sec," Chase agreed, before retreating to an arched doorway leading somewhere else in the house. He spared Dean one last glance, then nodded at Sam and disappeared through that doorway.

Even out of sight, it would be hard to miss the footsteps moving away. Even tougher to ignore was the shout that followed as Chase called up the stairs. "Hey, Minnie!"

"What?" Her voice from far away would be muffled to Sam, but still easily heard in the otherwise empty house.

"Go get Jacob back here!"

"Why can't you do it?"

Chase sighed in the most put-upon way he could manage. "Because, I have to be a good host and stuff!"

Minnie appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down in a frown. "Then why are you yelling at me?" she countered, even as she hurried down to join him. Chase smirked as she had to step around him, before she shoved lightly at his side and made him stumble against the railing.

He followed her into the living room just as she reached it to check on their would-be guests herself. Her stern look softened when she saw that only one of them had woken up yet. "He gave you some water, right?"

Sam was bemused by the sight of the siblings' argument. It reminded him sharply of several arguments with Dean that had gone in nearly the same direction.

“He did,” Sam confirmed, getting Chase off at least one hook. He had a suspicion that it wouldn’t take the kid long to get himself in trouble yet again, much like Dean managed on an hourly basis. “We’re just waiting for Dean to wake up now.”

Minnie nodded, glancing once more at Dean with a small glimmer of concern in her eyes. “Alright. I’ll go get Jacob. Chase,” she fixed him with an almost accusing look, “will get you guys whatever you need.” She could see in his face that he had yet to explain who Jacob was, and if this guy was unconscious when the resident giant showed up, he wouldn’t be expecting his return now.

Chase gave Minnie a thumbs up as she left again, and then wandered closer to where Sam stood by Dean. Privately, he rued how tall both these guys were; they could barely fit on the couches in the living room, and had required every extra blanket he and Minnie could find in the house.

On one hand, they had the right build for sailors. On the other, it would be weird for sailors to be out floating in the bay, so far from shore that only a giant had a chance of spotting them.

“Won’t take him long to wander back here,” Chase said mildly. “Do you, uh. Why were you in the water?”

Sam sat back on his heels, continuing to hover close to Dean. “We’re on a job,” he explained. “It’s… complicated. Suffice to say, we got tossed overboard when our cover was blown.”

There was a lot about that nagging at Sam. His lips turned down as he thought over the events leading up to getting tossed overboard. Nothing, right up until the moment they were grabbed, stood out to him as out of the ordinary. They went undercover all the time, and on that ragtag ship of passengers and personnel, they’d blended right in even in their standard outfits.

“We just don’t know how they found us,” Sam mused.

“You were undercover?” Chase echoed, his eyes widening with intrigue. Jacob would be shocked to find out that he’d somehow rescued a pair of … well, whatever these two were to require undercover work. It was probably super cool. “Dude, so that means me, Minnie, and Jacob are helping out your, uh. Mission?”

Amused, Sam gave a half-shrug. “Uh, I guess?” he said. “It’s not like we’re government agents, after all…”

Dean stirred on the couch, mumbling in his spot. Sam was up in a flash, offering the cup of water before Dean tried to say anything. He remembered the raw, dry feeling in his throat from being stranded at sea for so long and didn’t want Dean to go through that any longer than he had to.

While he watched to make sure Dean didn’t spill the cup, Sam frowned. “We need to make sure no one gets hurt, and this whole thing will just get covered up if anyone else in Blefuscu finds out--”

“Blefuscu?!” Chase blurted, only reining in his volume on the last syllable of the word. He glanced at Dean, still barely conscious, before fixing his surprised look on Sam once more. “You’re from Blefuscu?”

They weren’t even from Lilliput. Blefuscu, the neighboring land across a wide bay, had a storied past with Lilliput. They weren’t really at war anymore, but even with some tense trade moving back and forth across the bay, the two countries weren’t exactly best friends. Chase wasn’t sure he’d even told Jacob very much about Blefuscu yet.

A distant rumble sounded, far enough to seem like a simple gust of wind if one didn’t know what it really was. Jacob must have wandered quite far, but he could cover distances like no one else. As this Sam and Dean were about to find out. “Anyway, uh. I guess you oughta know … Jacob brought you to Lilliput. Surprise?”

[specsforwoo]

Son of Morpheus | Demigod!Lee Jeno

Parent Deity: Morpheus (God of Dreams and Human Dreamers)

Allegiance: Hypnos

This boy loves to sleep

Like LOVES to sleep

He could be found sleeping anywhere

High key his mom found him sleeping on the kitchen floor one day

And ever since he was little

He was able to remember his dreams with intense detail

His family just thought it was a 4 year old’s imagination running wild

Until the night terrors started

He was tormented with them

They started around the time he was 7

They still happen today, just much less in frequency

But when he was younger

They were really bad

Like he would wake up screaming and crying

And it took ages for him to calm down

It got to the point that his mom was considering taking him to a child psychiatrist

He found a way to calm himself though

He began drawing out scenes from his dreams

No matter what they are

Light and airy or nightmarish

It helped him cope in a way

Life continued on

And he started opening up to his mom about his dreams

He talked about a young man with tan skin and dark curly hair

And wings of a white warblers

He told stories of epic battles

Of courtrooms filled with music and sleeping bodies

Of sleepless nights talking with a man sitting on the moon

Jeno couldn’t tell if he was scared of the man or not

As he entered middle school

He started being able to interpret his dreams

Other’s dreams too

He kept it a secret though

It terrified him

He learned to accept this too

As he did everything else

But then he learned he could predict others dreams

And it scared the shit out of him

He told his best friend, Jaemin first

Jaemin just gave him this knowing look and took him to his mom

His mom sat him down

And for the first time in his 14 years of life

His mother pulled out a photo of his father

And he was shocked

It was the curly haired man that he saw every night in his dreams

Sitting there next to his mother in a cafe in Greece

He was fucking confused

Like really fucking confused

Until it clicked

That was his dad

His dad had wings of a garbler

HIS DAD HAS WINGS OF A GARBLER

Am I going to grow wings too!?!?!?!?!?!?

No, you idiot. Jaemin

I’m not?

No, you have to earn them. Also Jaemin

So that night he was lying in bed

Questioning whether or not he wanted to fall asleep

Knowing he would have to confront his father there

But a cloud with a dreamcatcher with dew drops hanging from the strings shrouded with a calming silver light appeared above his head

And he fell asleep instantaneously

His father was sitting there

Talking with the man who embodied the moon

The man that he didn’t recognize made a comment and vanished after he caught sight of him

His father turned around. It was like he hadn’t aged a day since the photo see saw

Do you know who I am?

Uhhhhh. A dude with white warbler wings??? That haunts my dreams every night. Who also happens to be my father?

He didn’t mean to sound as sarcastic as it came out

Yes, that is all true, though I don’t ‘haunt’ you. But, do you know who I am?

No

He sat him down in the dark pavilion, explaining about the gods and goddess, the war and everything in between, even how he was born.

Do I like…. Have half-siblings??

No, but Jaemin is your cousin. His father smiled

After that, the dream faded off and he was peaceful for the rest of the night

Waking up, Jaemin was passed out on the couch in the living room

Picking up the nearest thing (a remote) he threw it at the boy on the couch, causing him to wake up

WHY IN OLYMPUS DID YOU NEVER TELL ME WE ARE TECHNICALLY COUSINS????

Not my place?

Anyways start packing, Mom said I can take you to camp with me this year :)

Yes, Jaemin calls Jeno’s mom his mom

And so he went to camp with Jaemin that year

It was nothing like what Jaemin described

It was WAY cooler

On the first day people were milling around everywhere

Jaemin led him over to a couple older kids with badges around their necks

Hey Jaemin!

Jaemin introduced them as Johnny and Ten, both sons of wind gods, both camp leaders who were helping all of the new kids get around and find their cabins

They’ll take care of you, I have to go find her.

Jaemin basically dumped Jeno on their shoulders so he could go find his girlfriend smh

Jaemin told us you were Morpheus’ kid, we were thinking about putting you in the Crios cabin? Does that sound okay? We would put you with Jaemin but he said you should get to know other campers your first year here. The shorter one spoke up

The taller one, Jaemin introduced him as Johnny, pulled out a gold coin, flicking it into the air while muttering something, and a wavering rainbow appeared in front of them

Put me through to Taeil and soon the rainbow was showing an older boy as well with a red undercut over some astrology papers

The rainbow??? Was facetime???

Ten obviously saw the shock on poor Jeno’s face, carefully explaining what an Iris message was and how to do it

After that he settled into demigod life pretty quickly

Jaemin introduced him to all of his friends, the Dream team, even some older campers who he was close with

He even liked the Crios cabin so much that he decided to stay there past the first year. The Morpheus cabin was lonely and Jaemin always had his girlfriend over trying to get her to sleep

The night terrors slowly subsided and soon his dreams were more peaceful than anything else

But one time he dreamt about a girl, right around his age, running into camp, a dark aura surrounding her but obvious scared

It wasn’t the dark aura that worried him, Kun and Jaehyun both had a dark aura, both sons of gods related to death

But her aura was different, it was mixed with madness, it was close to driving her insane

Even though it was only a dream, he couldn’t shake it off

He asked everyone that he knew, especially Jaemin, he found out a while ago that he was the one who founded the camp, what the aura could be and no one knew

He also started watching the border of camp everyday

Not stalking it or anything, just glancing over whenever he had a chance

A couple weeks past and Jeno was convinced that it was just a really weird dream

But then you actually showed up

Same way that it happened in the dream

You ran into the borders of camp like you were out of your mind, you were paranoid, no one could even touch you, not even Sicheng

When Jeno had heard what happened, he ran down to the pavilion

There you were, on the ground, covering your ears, eyes wide open, terrified to shut them, and shaking in fear

Once he had pushed his way through the crowd, he placed his hand over your eyes and shortly, you had fallen asleep

After that, Sicheng had moved you to the infirmary with Jeno’s and Johnny’s help

He found that you were severely dehydrated, and even he couldn’t describe the aura around you. It wasn’t that of Kun or Jaehyun’s but it was definitely similar

You were were in and out of consciousness for about 3 days and when everything finally settled down, a raven with a snake in its mouth appeared over your head

It was symbols that no one had seen or heard of, not even Jaemin or Taeyong

The boys spent the next couple of days researching who the symbols could belong to, and eventually they found it: Melinoe

Goddess of ghosts and spiritual passage who brought mortals nightmares that drove them insane

That would explain the way you were when you first came into camp

After that, Jeno stayed by your side every step of your recovery

He also helped you to manage the nightmares and control your powers

He had been there before, dreams were a tricky subject and nightmares made it even more complicated

But slowly you got the hang of it

And slowly Jeno started to have a crush on you, and slowly it turned into more

When he finally asked you out, you were ecstatic, it would be a lie to say that you hadn’t developed feelings for Jeno since coming to camp

And when camp closed for the summer- except for the few that stayed, he found out that you were attending the same university

He had been studying astrology while you were in the art department, soon, everyone in campus and camp knew who the two of you were

Y’all were inseparable

The Dreamies even accepted you into their group

(Jisung is your favorite don’t tell Jeno)

You eventually ended up moving in with Jaehyun

He had become like your older brother at camp

When Jeno wasn’t able to help you learn about your powers, Jaehyun was there to help

He even got his mom to visit personally and talk to you about your own mom and what he role was, and most importantly, that she wasn’t a bad person

Jaehyun knew the pain that you dealt with having a parent being a literal embodiment of death

And soon enough, it was even like Jeno had moved in with Jaehyun with how much he was at the apartment

Jaehyun was okay with it as long as he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night :)

[totiredtowrite]

cONGRATS ON 444 DUDE

for the event, witch!futakuchi x fae!reader and for the scene the reader takes in futakuchu after he's in the run from his coven and he ends up traveling with the reader who offers him a home up north look ive been reading too much throne of glass and istg id die for fenrys moonbeam and elide lochan

also ur writing is just 😩🤌

Ironteeth Witch Futakuchi - Fae Reader

『4』『4』『4』

Nothing very interesting happened to you.

Every other week you would stop at a town to restock, maybe take an odd job, and then you'd go back on your way. You'd only been travelling up north for around five months, but it was starting to feel like a normal cycle.

Deciding to stay in the woods tonight maybe wasn't your brightest idea though. Winter was coming about, (the cure of starting your journey in the middle of the year), and nighttime got frighteningly cold sometimes. On the bright side, your body was far more resilient than a human.

You sighed, putting out your fire and standing up. Luckily there was a worn cabin in this area. You'd dropped your supplies in there to start a fire outside, figuring that lighting a fire in a mostly wooden cabin wasn't a good idea.

You stretched slightly, walking towards the door. Or, rather, what was left of the door. Walking in though, something didn't feel very right. Your bag didn't look out of place. The walls creaking slightly from the wind. Then you felt eyes on you from behind. It wasn't the typical 'boring into the back of your skull,' no, it felt like someone was sizing you up.

Your suspicion turned out to be valid, as when you turned around a clawed hand made its way around your mouth. The person pushed you back into the darker corner of the cabin. An iron clad finger was lifted to their lips as a plea for you to remain quiet, their silhouette outlined by the little moonlight peeking through the cracks in the walls.

You reached up and tried to pry their hand away, but they only tightened their grip, iron nails breaking the surface of your skin slightly. You bit back a pained noise.

"Stay quiet," they whispered in your ear. Their voice was masculine.

To your surprise, you heard around seven pairs of footsteps outside, faint beats of large leathered wings, and muffled shouting. After a couple minutes, the sounds faded completely. The stranger stepped back into the light, letting go of your face. You took a deep breath, casting a disdainful look at the stranger.

The person- male- had his bright brown eyes narrowed.

You were about to say something obscene, until your eyes snagged into the side of his face.

A trickle of blue fell from a cut on his cheekbone. "Oh god," you whispered softly. "You're-"

"A witch, yes," he lifted both of his hands up to ruffle his flat brown hair, knocking some leaves out of it.

You stammered. The marks on your cheeks from where he had his hand were already healing. He raised his head to examine your face. "You're fae, aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes, attention focused on your pointed ears.

"Well, yes, but you're literally a witch," you still had a hand on the wall behind you for support, watching as the iron points in his teeth and nails slowly disappeared.

The man scoffed. "It isn't common to see your kind around these parts either."

You stood up straighter. "Well no but, I just- I just thought that all witches were women." Your brows were knitted together in confusion. In all of the tales you've heard, every eye witness account, every drawing, witches were always female.

"Well you thought wrong," he sighed heavily.

Every part of you was either confused or scared. Most likely a combination of both. "So? What's a pure-blooded fae like you doing out in the middle of nowhere?" He snickered.

"I could ask exactly the same question," you narrowed your eyes. "Whats a witch like you doing in the middle of nowhere?"

He snarled at your return of his mockery.

You didn't seem to let up, the question hanging in the air like some kind of heavy fog. He sighed. "My coven. I may or may not have done something awful and immoral. And I may or may not be running." The cut on his cheek was mending itself back together.

"So you chose this cabin?"

"I saw a fire."

"Mm," you moved out of the corner to where your supplies was sitting, untouched, on the table. "Do you have literally anywhere else you could be?" You didn't turn to face him as you spoke.

"No." he leaned against the door frame with crossed arms.

"Well what about a ride?" You finally turned around to look at him, steadying yourself against the decaying wooden table.

"They killed my wyvern."

You sucked in a sharp breath. "Ah, um, sorry?"

He shrugged. "She was an asshole anyways." He chuckled dryly.

You shuddered. Witches. "So," you rock against the table slightly. "Basically, you don't have anywhere to go, your wyvern is dead, and your coven hates you?"

He nods.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "Right, you can come with me then." You could feel the confusion radiating off of the man.

"Wait, seriously?" He pushed off of the wall and moved a bit closer.

You nodded. "I have a home up north that I'm trying to get back to. Come with if you want to stay undetected."

He laughed again. "I don't remember fae being so forgiving," the glint in his eye was obviously teasing.

"Well, witch, I wasn't raised at a typical fae. Are you going or not?"

He pondered for a second, his eyes trained on the ground and his brows furrowed. "Alright," he finally said, looking up.

You smiled. "Lovely. (L/n)."

He tilted his head.

"My name," you let go of the table. "Yours?" A small 'oh' left his mouth.

"Futakuchi."

You nodded. "We'll be going tomorrow." He raised his brows.

"What? I haven't slept in three days," you rolled your eyes and started to the other side of the room, bag in hand. The floor creaked no matter where you walked. "Just don't watch me in my sleep or anything."

"Witches sleep you know."

"Good," you put your back on the floor, lying down to face the wall. He growled.

"Not a typical fae my ass," he muttered, slipping out of the house to sit by the door. "Still a dick."

『4』『4』『4』

I still have no clue what to do with the plots so sorry if it progressed too fast

[yutahoes]

Sakura

(Part Ten)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven -  Eight - Nine - Ten

genre : Chaptered, Fluff

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 1.9k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach @aaasteroidsky  @readers-posts @delightfultacobread @bby-kji9​ 

"...And then okaasan, Cherry made me this card to congratulate me for making the team." Yuta shared with a smile, lightly staring at the pink paper on the dashboard of his car. "I think she got Y/N's talent in drawing." 

"It must be nostalgic to see her especially when you said that she looks exactly like Y/N." His mom's voice can be heard through the speaker phone of the car.  He was driving to Jae's school since it's his first soccer match. 

Yuta smiled at the memory of Y/N's surprised face when he asked for her to grant his wish. Well, Jae's wish. And that is to let him play in the little league of their school. The younger boy looked so happy when she agreed, even promising that he'll listen to the coach and not forget about his studies and eating. 

He saw the passion in Jae's eyes while practicing and he can't wait to celebrate with him when he gets his first goal. Was he the same when he was a kid? He must be really pretty cool back then. "I hope you can meet Jae and Cherry, okaasan." Yuta said with a chuckle. "You'll love them both." 

"I know I will." His mom claimed. "Son, you seemed happier than the past months you talked to me." Is he? "Whatever you're doing, you know that I and your otousan are here to support you." 

If there is one thing that Yuta heavily realized about everything that's happening, parenting is not an easy task. He felt a great appreciation for his parents who never left his side and is always there whatever his decisions in life are. It is indeed true that you'll appreciate people more if you're in their shoes. "Okaasan, I never told you and otousan this but I love you both. And I'm always thankful that you're my parents." 

He heard a sniffle in the background that made him chuckle, "Are you crying?" He asked in disbelief. His mom? The true Osaka mom, who never lets her child show her emotion, is crying? "I'll go home soon. I miss you already." 

"And we miss you, Yuta. I'm glad you're happier now." And he is. 

Yuta was surprised at how small the crowd is during the soccer league. It's one of the school's sports, why is there so little audience? He immediately saw them by the bleachers, Cherry was seated beside her mom who was carrying Jae who looked like he was crying. "What happened?" He asked immediately, putting down the things he brought. 

Jae transferred to his arms, sobbing hard. "I'm scared. What if I don't get a goal today? What if I fall?" Yuta smiled at that. He's so cute. "What if the team loses?" 

"Hey buddy, it's alright." He assured. "It's fine if we cannot goal today, we can do it next time. And it's alright to fall, that's part of the game." Jae stared at him, blinking his tears away. Yuta put him down, letting him sit. "I have something for you." 

He took a box of shoes from the plastic bag he brought, opening it to show him a new set of soccer shoes. The older removed his old shoes, replacing them with new ones and even tying the shoelaces for him. "Just enjoy playing for now, Jae. Don't think of winning. We can do it next time." 

The young boy nodded, jumping with his new shoes. "I will play soccer as cool as you. And then I'm going to be known in soccer like you." He said while smiling widely. "Appa." 

Yuta smiled. That word. The butterflies in his stomach are fluttering. "That's my boy." He grinned, ruffling his hair. Jae ran down to the field as he watched him with the taller, bigger kids.

Y/N was looking at him, eyes twinkling. "What?" He asked but she shook her head. When he glanced at Cherry, she was just smiling knowingly at him.  

The game is just a simple elementary soccer league at first, five kids played against another five kid team. But what surprised Yuta is how rough the children were. He remembered one kid, the guy who was bullying Jae the first time he saw him at school. He kept on kicking the other kid's ankle, stepping on another's foot just to have the ball for his own yet the coach isn't even telling him off. At one point, the kid even bumped on Jae purposely even if they're on the same team that made the smaller kid fall. 

Y/N was about to storm down the bleachers when Yuta held her hand. "Let him. He needs to learn to stand up." She only grasped their intertwined hands that made Yuta smile. She didn't let go, instead held on to him tighter. 

Jae was obviously stopping himself from crying while playing. When the ball was kicked in front of him, he didn’t hesitate to create a beeline to the goal. In his short stature, he kicked the ball which entered the goal that gave a score on the team. Cherry was cheering and Yuta grinned, Y/N’s hold on Yuta got tighter if possible and her eyes were twinkling once again. She’s happy. Jae was running on the whole field, smiling at himself. His first goal. He remembered feeling lightheaded when he did that in first grade, his parents watching him while smiling. Now, he felt proud of Jae. Like a dad. Maybe this is what his dad felt that time.

“Hey, shorty!” The coach called in a booming voice. “Isn’t it my order to give Siwoo the ball whatever happens?” What? Yuta was about to storm to where the coach was but Y/N pulled him back, shaking her head. “Come here, shorty.” 

His eyes went red seeing how the big coach lightly hit the younger’s head using his finger. “Yuta…” Y/N called but he’s already in front of the bigger man. 

“Do you really have to do that?” Yuta asked calmly. “What’s wrong with this kid scoring a goal? Is your son the only member of the team?” 

The coach smirked and Yuta wanted to punch his cocky face that instant. “Oh look. If it isn’t the world-class soccer superstar.” he teased that made him glare. "This is a school league, hotshot. Last time I checked you don't have any children." Yuta clenched his jaw at that. He's so annoying. "Oh. Are you banging this kid's mom? Must be a pretty good fuck that you have to support this dadless loser." 

That does it. Yuta landed a punch on his face, even holding the collar of his shirt in annoyance. "Shut your fucking mouth." He spat and was about to land another punch when he saw from his peripheral sight the fright in Jae's eyes while watching him. The younger had always stared at him in adoration so seeing him like this scared Yuta for a moment. He clenched his fist, dropping his arm on his sides when the coach landed a punch on his face. 

"You think you're some amazing dude just because you play soccer?" The coach asked, punching his face once again. "Since you're so great, why don't you just coach them?" The principal and some other dads stopped the two but Yuta's eyes were focused on the younger boy looking at him with tears in his eyes. He can't even hear the profanities that the coach was saying, all he could hear is this little voice in his head scolding himself for getting angry and scaring Jae. 

Yuta jolted in pain when Y/N applied the medicine to the cut on the side of his mouth. "I told you to calm down." She said while dabbing the Q Tip gently to the blood forming on his lip. "He's a former boxer. You're lucky you just had a cut on your lip. He can crush your face, you know?" Why didn't he know that before? Are boxers that short-tempered? His friend, Jung Jaehyun, isn't. 

"Is Jae mad at me?" Yuta asked, eyes focused on his hands. His face doesn't hurt honestly. What hurts the most is that look imprinted on his memory. Of Jae being scared. Because of him. "You should be with him right now." 

Y/N sat on the chair in front of him who was seated on the clinic bed. "Cherry said she'll take care of Jae. I can't really calm him down, only Cherry can." She explained and he pursed his lips at that. "You were usually a calm person, Yuta." 

He is. That's the basic rule in soccer. Always cool your head. It's not helpful if you get angry easily. Soccer is a physical sport. You'll obviously get hurt and that's fine, as long as you keep your cool. But this is not soccer. "I'm sorry. He's just fucking annoying." Yuta explained in a soft voice. "I just hate it that he dared to say those things when he doesn't even know anything. How can you trust your child to someone like…?" 

His words were cut off when she leaned closer, her lips touching his. He was too shocked to react when she pulled away. "Did you just…?"

"I'm going to check on Jae. We'll meet you at the school gate." 

Wait. Is he knocked up with that punch? Is he dreaming? She kissed him, right? He touched his lips. If this is a dream, can't he just wake up? 

Jae was so quiet when he drove them home. Y/N asked if the younger wanted to eat but he only shook his head. This is unusual for the younger who is always the talkative one. Y/N looked worryingly at Yuta when they stopped in front of her house. "Jae, buddy. Can we talk?" 

Cherry and Y/N exited the car, leaving Jae in the backseat. "Buddy, I'm sorry." Yuta said sincerely. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I'm sorry that you got scared. I promise I won't be angry like that again." 

"Were you hurt?" The younger boy asked that surprised Yuta. Is that what's running in his mind? "I'm scared that you might get hurt, appa." The older shook his head and Jae leaned in to hug him. "I'm scared you're mad at me because I didn't play well. I don't want to see you angry like that again." 

The older smiled. "I'm not mad at you. I won't be mad at you." He held the back of his head, caressing it. "And you played so well, buddy. That goal." He exclaimed in awe, remembering the goal Jae did and the happiness in his chest the moment he witnessed that. "You did so well, Jae." 

"I'll play soccer well, appa. I'll make you proud of me." 

"I am proud of you, Jae. Always." 

When he exited the car, Cherry knocked on the door to the passenger seat. Yuta opened it for her and she sat on the seat next to him. "We heard everything that the coach said." She started. "You didn't get mad when he was saying bad things about you. You got angry when he said things about eomma and Jae." Yuta only stared at her, Cherry is such a great observer. The makings of a true detective. "You feel like our real dad now protecting Jae and eomma." 

"Thank you, Yuta appa." Cherry whispered, hugging him. 

Yuta just smiled. He could get used to these hugs. He could get used to these children calling him 'appa'. 

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Eleven

This took too long to write but here it is. This is the exact scene where the whole plotline for Sakura started and honestly, this is much better in my head than when I wrote it. 😂 I also want to thank those people who always leave comments in each chapters. I always keep your words in mind and is actually getting some ideas from those. So thank you so much. 💓 

[chalkrevelations]

Moving on to Episode 4 of Word of Honor, and y’all.

Wait, first: If you’re new or just visiting, this is a re-watch, so there are SPOILERS not just for this ep but for the ENTIRE SHOW. Maybe a lot of them. Scroll away and come back later if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled. (They’re all gonna be tagged “word of honor episode reax”)

A couple of big things, first:

So, right up front, I don’t know for sure that this is the first time we’ve heard the word, but it’s the first time I’ve twigged to it in this re-watch. As Zhou Zishu and Chengling are leaving the inn in the morning, at the very beginning of the ep, Wen Kexing asks why ZZS continues to call him gongzi and wants to know if he’s still too much of an outsider for a less formal form of address. He uses the word 外人 (wairen) (at 2:30) for “outsider,” which is how the subs translate it here. Anybody who’s been around for these flailing reactions since the first time I watched the show might remember that I made a deal about this somewhere around in the late 20s of the episodes, based on a post from someone that I scrolled quickly past while avoiding spoilers and that I have NEVER FOUND AGAIN and am STILL LOOKING FOR, that alerted me to the use of this word and its nuances in ep 25. There’s a conversation there about WKX possibly taking over some of Chengling’s training at Siji Manor, and WKX demurs, calling himself “外人.” Youku translated it there as “someone else,” as in having “someone else” train your disciple, and ZZS responds with “And you’re 外人?” again translated as “someone else.” This actually seems to mean “stranger,” or “outsider,” as they do actually translate it here in Ep 4 - presumably someone who’s from outside your sect, at least in the Ep 25 instance, in which WKX is labeling himself that while he’s in the midst of his upcoming crisis, trying to keep his emotional distance from ZZS and Siji Manor. It’s used again in Ep 26, when ZZS finds WKX giving training advice to Chengling, and it’s one of the ways they have WKX and A-Xiang reflect each other, when she uses it in Ep 29, and rejects it as a description of herself, in order to claim a place in Cao Weining’s sect/family (which, now, knowing … GOD. My HEART). Anyway, I found it super-interesting that WKX is using this word here in Ep 4 to push against ZZS’s boundaries, in contrast to the way he’ll use it later, to try to fortify his own walls against ZZS and Siji Manor. I begin to suspect that he doesn’t want to tell ZZS who he actually is because, maybe, just a little bit, he wants ZZS to figure it out, to recognize him, to truly know him (zhiji) without him having to spell it out. We kind of travel back around to this idea near the end of the ep, when WKX is questioning ZZS about the Baiyi sword, and ZZS tells him that their relationship is like the fish that ZZS unsuccessfully tried to cook and threw on the ground – raw (i.e., unacquainted) – to explain why he keeps shutting out and shutting down WKX. Only we know now that isn’t entirely true, and WKX certainly suspects it isn’t entirely true. (Also, just an observation, ZZS says in that later scene that he’s not interested in who WKX is. DON’T TELL HIM THAT, my dude, now it’s going to be 3,246 episodes before he’ll give you any personal info.)

Also, just a note – I think we make the switch from Zhou-xiong to A-Xu in this ep. (ETA: No! I have been reliably informed by @janedrewfinally that this switch happened back at the end of Ep 3 (at 41:18), and it seems to be part of what precipitates the Completely Reasonable, Not At All Flirtatious, Utterly Heterosexual No Really, Like Bros way that ZZS takes WKX's wine jar. You know the incident we mean.)

The second thing that I really started turning over in my head here is the developing relationship between WKX and Chengling, and this is one of the things that took me so long on this one, because I wanted to go back and look at those two, specifically, in the previous eps again, and revisit their interactions both with and without the mediating factor of ZZS. The first time WXK sees Chengling is in the marketplace at the end of Ep 1 when Chengling ends up giving his token to ZZS. But I think the first time WKX sees Chengling is maybe when WKX’s sitting in the cutout window with his drinkie during the massacre of Mirror Lake and ZZS draws the Baiyi sword to protect Boatman Li and Chengling, just before they make it to the boat and float away back to the mainland. I don’t know how much of the beginning of the fight in the abandoned temple WKX then sees before A-Xiang makes her entrance, but there’s a lot of Chengling flinging himself in front of Boatman Li and ZZS in a way that’s not entirely dissimilar to the way Zhen Yan will fling himself at his parents’ bodies in flashback in a later episode, and then WKX definitely sees dying Boatman Li charge ZZS with Chengling’s care, then make Chengling bow, in a parallel to the scene we’ll get later when Qin Huaizhang accepts Zhen Yan as a Siji Manor shidi. In Ep 3, there’s a lot of weird sympathetic looks from WKX as A-Xiang berates Chengling over dinner (she doesn’t quite have this jiejie thing down yet, and she’s probably never had someone younger than her to take care of) for not taking care of himself so he can be strong and get his revenge for his family’s deaths. This time out, Ep 4, we start with the beggar gangs coming after Chengling, which has some resonance with the former Ghost Valley Master and his Ten Devils standing around the bodies of Zhen Yan’s parents and debating what they’re going to do with this kid before they steal him away. You can see WKX’s eyes start to narrow as the lead beggar dude talks, and he eventually even asks them, “What are you going to do if he doesn’t want to go, take him away by force?” We get a LOT of cutting to WKX in this conversation, even though he ostensibly has nothing to do with this, it’s really a convo between Beggar Guy, ZZS and Chengling. WKX pulls focus, and he eventually provokes that fight, and sure, he wants to see ZZS fighting and hopefully get a look at the Baiyi sword, and he even may think that’s the extent of his ulterior motives, but I’m not sure that actually is the full extent of his motives, there. This episode is also when we really see WKX start to encourage Chengling to continue to press at ZZS about taking him as a disciple, including the first use of the infamous “Tough women can’t resist clingy men” saying. Chengling comments that he was just supposed to be Son #3 who stayed home and took care of the old people, and WKX comes back with the Extremely Significant Comment that “When the children want to fulfill their filial piety, the parents have died,” which is not only Extremely Significant, but also sounds like it may be a quote from a poem or other literature? Anyway, a lot of this is just to say, KINDLY AU ANON WHO WAS THINKING ABOUT WRITING THE STORY IN WHICH WKX GETS CUSTODY OF CHENGLING BECAUSE ZZS IS NOT AT MIRROR LAKE, ARE YOU STILL OUT THERE? Hopefully you are hard at work, writing, because I have been having thoughts about this relationship.

What else? Kind of chronologically:

First of all, it continues to physically pain me to have to look at that horrifying facial hair, ZZS. I cannot WAIT to hit Ep 6.

We open this ep on WKX rolling walnuts in his hand in a way that is reminiscent of SOMEONE who we’ve seen do that before – multiple times, given they put that shot of Ghost Valley Master in the opening credits. Nevertheless, I didn’t catch this right away on my first time through. It took me a few episodes, and then I FINALLY noticed the opening credits shot right in front of my face. Point to you, show. Once you know, this ep practically shoves it in your face, recreating not only the walnut rolling, but a dude getting held up in the air and choked out (which we’ve seen before, in Ep 1 (and will see again)) before being slammed down on the ground with WKX crouched over him (which we’ve seen before, in Ep 1). Later, WKX is concerned about his manicure (which we’ve seen before, in Ep 1). It’s actually a little bit funny that both he and ZZS - a master assassin and a guy who literally skinned another dude (and maybe ate him?) to take his throne – are both so prissy about actual, literal blood. Anyway, is it significant or a coincidence that WKX waits until ZZS and Chengling are out of sight before actually going wild-eyed? You know the look I mean.

OH MY GOD, it’s Lovelace. I had blocked this dude from my mind. Eurgh. Nevertheless, there are a number of things I love about his scene, and all of them are related to A-Xiang, my feral beloved - from the way she clomps into the room, completely unworried about stepping the least bit gracefully while making her presence known and stomping (lit. and fig.) all over his dramatic little bit, to the way she berates him, threatens him with “Aunt Luo,” bares her teeth at him, and makes the eye-gouging motion at him. She is the best, and I adore her. I also love how she literally laughs in WKX’s face at his comment that maybe he just wants to be friends with ZZS, OK, is that alright?

The fight with the beggar gangs in this ep may be the first time we see something similar to the cage of spears maneuver in Prince Jin’s throne room all the way up in Ep … what? 30? … although it won’t be the last time we see it, and each time we see ZZS is perfectly capable of avoiding it or escaping it, making me suspect that Tian Chuang only “trapped” him in it because he let them, just like he only got taken back to Prince Jin in chains, in the first place, because he let it happen. We see it at 5:30 with the beggar gang’s staffs, when ZZS breaks it up by literally flinging another dude into the middle of it. We see it at 5:41, when he kicks his way out of the formation. And we see it at 8:15, when the sheaths have come off the swords, and he feints under them to break his way out. Just noticing.

When WKX is talking about the Baiyi sword as they all sit around ZZS’ sad little raw fish in the dirt by the lakeside, he mentions that Rong Changqing created three master works – the White Cloth sword, the Dragonback, and the “Great Wild Land,” per Youku’s translation. ZZS has the Baiyi sword, I assume the Dragonback is Ye Baiyi’s sword. Is the Great Wild Land actually the Ghost Valley? Given what we learn from Ye Baiyi in the back nine about Rong Changqing and his plans for Ghost Valley? Anyway, then we get some magic pipa playing, and ZZS (trying to, apparently) play WKX’s xiao in musical self-defense, and even though he leaves his opponent bleeding, WKX takes the opportunity to make suggestive comments about teaching him how to blow properly, just in case WKX’s been slacking on his act as a cheesy pick-up artist and anyone’s beginning to see through him. ZZS yells at Chengling for his lack of martial skill, then yells at him for crying, because that always works, particularly with traumatized teenagers who have had their entire family and sect massacred like, two nights ago. As a shifu, I’m not sure how you manage to inspire such devotion, my dude. WKX plays the indulgent parent, but also reassures Chengling that ZZS has good reasons for yelling at a traumatized, newly orphaned kid. I suppose he is getting him ready for all the yelling that’s going to go down once they get to Five Lakes Alliance and Chengling has to deal with Gao Chong and Shenshen. Chengling’s response, with WKX’s encouragement, is to ask to be ZZS’s disciple again. Was Han Ying (who I guess we’ve yet to actually meet at this point (EDIT TO ADD: NO WAIT, he was in Ep 1)) this much of a little dumbass to 24-year-old ZZS when Han Ying was 14? (EDIT 2 TO ADD: And who is writing this story, omg.) Although, ugh, that makes me realize that part of ZZS’s bad mood is that Chengling asking to be a disciple must be bringing up a shit-ton of bad stuff for ZZS about how he got all the other Siji Manor disciples killed. (Wen Kexing sees himself in Chengling, making his bow to Qin Huaizhang, one of the few good things that ever happened in his life, while ZZS sees all those red flowers on the mural back in his rooms in Prince Jin’s palace.) A final lakeside observation – A-Xiang pokes at ZZS’s uselessness as a cook here, and WKX will later ask him why he’s so utilitarian about food and drink, when they’re the greatest pleasures of life. (Really, WKX? THE greatest pleasures? Although that’s certainly an interesting comment given where we end up, in the end.) And it makes me begin to wonder – is ZZS so bad at cooking, and does he continue to avoid it, at least partially because he’s already losing his senses enough so that it interferes with preparing a tasty meal?

Also, we meet the Four Scorpion Assassins, and Pretty Arhat and Evil Bodhisattva have some pretty bold names, but now I’m back on my thing about the women in this show, and wondering what kind of enlightenment or release these two feel like they’ve had, and how it may or may not resemble the mindset of the women of the Department of the Unfaithful in Ghost Valley. I’m not well-versed in Buddhism, though, and am maybe not the person to take on how that religious symbolism is or is not used as a metaphor for female freedom in this show.

This is getting kind of long, so one last observation for now, and I think I may have mentioned this before: WKX has color-coded ZZS and Chengling as a unit in the robes he bought for them when he also rented out the entire inn. He’s not in the same color, but he is in a complementary shade and tone, which I find interesting. Also, his sash is sort of salmon, not the red of his Ghost Valley getup, but not completely divorced from it, either.

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 4

Tagging @donttouchmycarrots and @sunflowerfox87 who I still can’t believe wanted to be tagged 🥺 

Thank you so much everyone for your support ❤️

And as always, thank you @inloveoknutzy and Nayla for proofreading, you guys are the best  ❤️

My One in a Million Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Morning routines

The feeling of the earth on his bare feet. Long nights playing video games with his friends. Streaming for his fans. Slow sunsets and starry nights. Having the gang at his flat all the time. Relaxing bubble baths. Sunday lunch with the Potters. Making the people who doubted him shove their words up their asses.

Those were all things Sirius Black loved.

Having his brother drilling him at 7 am on an otherwise perfect Friday morning was most definitely not one of them. Not at all.

“I told you a thousand times already, and I’ll say it again one last time. I am not. Going. To that stupid. Fucking. Dinner,” he practically yelled over the phone.

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line.

“Sirius, please. Could you stop thinking only about yourself for once? They want you to come.” A short pause. “I want you to come.”

Sirius grunted lowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Reg. I gave them too much already. I can’t keep giving them more. I’m sorry.” He hung up before Regulus could get another word in and raked both hands through his hair.

Manipulative pieces of crap. They ‘wanted him to come’? What a fucking pile of shit. They had never wanted him there, they only wanted whatever they could get from him, asking for more, more and more, until they could suck him dry. They wouldn’t even be bothering with him if he was of no use to them.

Saying no to Regulus was the hard part. Knowing they were using him precisely because of this, that Regulus himself was using it against him, was almost like a knife twisting in his gut. 

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much, because Sirius still cared about him. He was still his little brother, despite the decisions they had both taken for their lives. But Regulus didn’t see it that way.

Sirius started pacing up and down his room, rubbing a hand through his face as his other went instinctively to his back pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. He hated feeling like this, hated the push and pull that came with his family’s relationships; craving the acceptance of his own blood, wanting to be close to his brother, but also feeling like he needed to get as far from them as he could. Why couldn’t they understand he didn’t want anything to do with the company? Heck, he didn’t want anything to do with most of them, he only kept some sort of contact because of Regulus. Even if his brother didn’t really want anything to do with him.

A flash of pain slashed him in the middle of his chest, and Sirius stormed off to the balcony, a fag already between his lips.

Lighting it up felt like lifting some of the weight off his shoulders. He pictured all of his problems in his head and imagined exhaling them with the smoke, drifting away in the morning sky until there was nothing left of them.

Sirius snorted. He wished it was that easy to get rid of all his worries, but his brother’s voice kept whispering in his ears, no matter how many times he watched the smoke dissipate in front of his face, mixing with words that were not Reg’s but still sounded in his voice. Stop thinking about yourself. You’re such a disappointment. We gave you so much, and this is how you repay us? You don’t care about me. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care.

“Ugh, fuck,” Sirius grunted as he leaned on the rail and let his head hang low, pressing his forehead against the cold metal.

A low sound reached him through the fog of noises in his head. It was a song he’d never heard before, its rhythm slow and calming, and Sirius tried to focus on that to clear his mind and make the voice shut up.

He raised his head, looking at the place where it was coming from, only to be faced with a sight that almost made him drop his cigarette six floors down.

The new neighbor, Remus, was behind the glass doors of his balcony, standing on top of a yoga mat, wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey shorts that were dangerously hiking up his thighs in the position he was currently in.

His arms were stretched on top of his head, his toned muscles making the veins in his arms pop, and his broad shoulders working with the slow movements he was making. There was such a peaceful air about him. His eyes were closed and the sun was drawing golden lines that flitted through his hair as he bent down at the waist to touch the floor, leaving his back exposed.

The freckles on Remus shoulders disappeared below the t-shirt, and Sirius desperately wanted to know just how far they reached. He swallowed thickly, unable to look away. It was mesmerizing to watch Remus transition between poses, his lithe body flowing like water. He briefly wondered if the man was as pliable in other ways, but when his heart rate started quickening, Sirius decided he should stop being a creep and allow his neighbor the privacy he deserved. Before he could tear his eyes away though, a black shadow darted into the room and tackled Remus to the floor.

Sirius gripped the rail unconsciously before he realised it was just Remus’ dog, and he was left breathless once more at the image in front of him.

Remus was laughing as the dog nudged him with its head, two of its paws pressed over those powerful shoulders as Remus stroked the fur at its sides. The man’s eyes were crinkled, his curls falling onto his forehead in a tawny mess that was so cute Sirius thought he might die.

Seeing him smiling like that, it reminded Sirius of the Halloween party almost a week ago.

At first, he’d been annoyed about Lily bringing Remus and a stranger into his home, but that was mainly ‘cause Sirius had been on edge about the whole family drama. He had been looking forward to a chill night with his friends, and having outsider eyes at that moment felt like something that would have made him step on eggshells all night to avoid revealing his identity.

But Remus had proved to be as interesting as Sirius had thought him to be the first time they talked, always taking him by surprise with his comments and reactions.

Sirius desperately wanted to know where the hell Remus had learned to play like that. It wasn’t every day that he was beaten by someone that didn’t seem to have a lot of time for games, even if he’d been overly distracted by his toned thigh touching his own leg. Yes, Sirius had had a hard time concentrating, but he hadn’t slacked off. Remus was good. And Sirius wanted to know how.

He was intrigued by the man in so many ways, his interest peaking with every new little thing he noticed: the gaming, the yoga, his weird way of thinking -Sirius chuckled when he remembered how Remus had thought he was a fucking drug dealer-, him showing up at a party wearing a jumper that was a few sizes too big for him, looking so impossibly cuddly and warm; his relationship with his dog, his relationship with that Leo guy.

As Remus nuzzled his nose into the dog’s fur, Sirius thought about the rainbow coloured bracelet on Leo’s wrist. He admired the guy for wearing the flag so proudly, just there in plain sight for everyone to see. Sirius wished he could do the same, to stand tall, out in the open. But the consequences for him were way too high.

A small, annoying part of his brain felt the need to remind him that this didn’t mean Remus liked dudes. But Sirius took comfort in the knowledge that, at the very least, it meant that he was ok with it. That he wouldn’t condemn Sirius for it.

Sirius reached for a new cigarette, even if he was already feeling calmer, and put it between his teeth, taking a second before lighting it. While he played with the flame of his lighter, he wondered how Remus knew about Padfoot. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to know that story.

His heart warmed, not for the first time, at how Remus had defended Padfoot so fiercely, having no idea that he was right there; no idea how much his words meant for Sirius. Remus had understood him incredibly thoroughly for someone that didn’t even know who Padfoot was. That he was sitting right next to him. And Sirius wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he wanted to find out.

It was no surprise that Remus hadn’t recognized his voice, even though he was clearly a fan. Sirius always hid his accent on his videos to conceal any connection to his family, so his parents wouldn’t intervene and ruin everything.

Suddenly, the music drifting from the room next door changed to a more upbeat one. Remus lifted the black dog up in his arms, something that couldn’t be easy given its size, and hugged it as he started twirling around the room, laughing brightly as he did.

He was dancing. 

With his dog.

And the face he was making, like the animal meant the world to him... How could someone you barely knew be so fucking endearing?

Sirius was still staring when Remus turned around and lifted his head, his eyes locking with Sirius’. He stopped mid-turn, the smile slipping from his face. Sirius felt a blush prickling at his cheeks at being caught basically ogling him, but he waved with an awkward smile.

His only answer was a scowl, even if from afar he could tell Remus was blushing too. He set the dog down, glaring at Sirius, who let his hand drop slowly as he watched the man close the curtains in a slash.

Sirius hid his face in his hands, feeling the heat radiate from his cheeks. How could he fuck up so much? Remus would think he was a fucking creep now. Dragging his hands down, Sirius knew he would have to genuinely step up his game if he wanted to get to know this man.

In the afternoon, Sirius was still pondering ways to get more acquainted with Remus, and coming back empty handed. He didn’t want to just show up at one of his classes, he lived right next door for fucks sake! He should be able to find a way to start up a conversation with him, right? Although Sirius had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of the guy since he’d moved in. Of course, Sirius hadn’t exactly been in the right state of mind to notice him.

But life seemed to be on his side, at least this once. Because when he stepped into the coffee shop where he was meeting up with James and Lily, the first thing he saw was a head of tawny curls.

Barely keeping in his glee, Sirius walked towards Remus, figuring he could just say hi. He stopped dead in his tracks though, when he was just a few steps behind him and he realized Remus was humming the lyrics of An Open Letter to Myself.

“I love that song,” he said without thinking. The man had a lovely voice, sweet and a bit sad, and it made his curiosity peak again.

Remus jolted and turned around with surprised eyes and slightly flushed cheeks, but as gold met silver, his eyebrows dropped quickly over his eyes. Sirius was taken aback by the clear hostility in Remus’ features, which made him stutter as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I... I saw you and thought... I… uhm... should come and say hi? So...hi,” Sirius said and immediately groaned inwardly at his stupidity. Since when was he this clumsy? 

“Hello,” Remus said in a polite, detached tone before he turned away.

Sirius took a minute to rearrange his thoughts while he placed his order right after Remus. They got their drinks at the same time, and before Remus could walk away from the shop, Sirius scrambled for something else to say.

“Your dog is beautiful, what’s its name?”

The corner of Remus’ mouth tickled up at the mention of his pet, but it was pushed down almost instantly.

“Cocoa,” he replied reluctantly, and Sirius almost spit his tea.

“Cocoa? That huge ass dog has a cute name like Cocoa?”

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was almost pouting. “I just really like chocolate, ok? Besides, he’s just a pup,” he said as he moved over to add some sugar to his chai latte. Sirius followed.

“A pup?” he said incredulously. “How is that a pup?!”

Remus huffed. “He’s only about two or three years old.”

Sirius stared at him in disbelief. That dog was already past Remus’ knees, and if what he was saying was right, he was probably going to grow some more.

“Did you adopt him?” he asked, tilting his head, thinking about Remus’ choice of words. He was focusing his whole attention on Remus, and that was probably the only reason why he noticed the slight stutter of his hand as he stirred his drink.

“Yeah,” he said in a breath. Sirius thought that would be the end of the conversation, but then -as if he couldn't help himself- Remus added, “he was very young when I found him. He was abandoned and practically left to die; his previous owners must have thought it was too much trouble to raise a wolfdog, and decided to leave him tied up in the woods instead of being decent human beings and finding him an appropriate home.”

There was such disgust in his voice that Sirius took a step back while his heart melted into a puddle. Of course he rescued dogs. Sirius was starting to wonder if this guy was even real. He’d been so thoroughly captivated by him in such a short time, it was a bit scary. Sirius hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. He hadn’t let himself feel like this, it was too risky, and he knew it would be more sensible to leave Remus alone and stay away from him before things got worse, but he had felt drawn to him ever since the Halloween party.

“That’s awful. No one deserves to be treated like that,” he replied softly against his better judgement. If things got worse, he’d deal with that later.

Remus’ head snapped up, and for a moment it looked like he was drowning. Sirius had no idea what had brought that expression to his face, but the only thought in his mind was how desperately he wanted to erase it. 

In hopes of doing so, he tried to change the subject to something lighter. “So, you like games, huh? You really did a number on me the other day. When did you start playing?”

The response he got was not what he’d expected. Remus’ expression hardened, and he turned his gaze away as he discarded the used stick with more force than was probably necessary.

“That’s hardly any of your concern, is it?”

Sirius blinked. And then blinked again. Was he still mad at him?

“Look, I’m really sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just-”

“You really think this is all just about this morning?” Remus snapped.

“What?” Sirius was confused. What had he done? He’d made a little fun of Remus the first time they talked, but it hadn’t been that bad, had it? 

“At least you weren’t smoking into my room today,” Remus added with a huff, which made Sirius frown.

He supposed he did smoke quite close to the edge of their balconies, but by the way Remus was talking, he felt like there was more to it. He tried to think of all the interactions they had had so far, but he couldn’t think of anything that would elicit Remus’ anger. His mind drifted to them sitting on his couch with the NHL game, how their shoulders had bumped together playfully, how Remus had even seemed to be comfortable once he got a controller in his hands. It was the only time Remus had acted in a friendly-ish manner towards him, without the scowl that seemed to be permanently weighing down on his brows. But none of his smiles had actually been directed at him, they had all been shared with Leo.

He smiled a lot around the blond, but whenever he was close to Sirius he seemed to be in a bad mood. Sirius hated that.

“What did I do for you to dislike me so much?”

“If you need to ask, it just shows that it’s not even worth answering you.”

Remus turned around and walked briskly to the door, leaving Sirius completely dumbfounded. The door opened just as Remus was reaching for the handle, and he almost bumped into Lily and James, who were coming in. Sirius watched as he nodded at them with a few words, threw one last glare his way, and disappeared in the afternoon sun.

Lily watched him walk away with a confused expression on her face. She glanced at James who just shrugged, and then she looked directly at Sirius with a deep frown. He seemed to be getting a lot of those lately.

“What was that all about?” she asked when they got next to him.

“He hates me, that’s what it was,” Sirius grumbled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sirius stared at Lily like she held all the answers in the world. “He looks at me like I’m the worst person to ever walk the Earth. What did I do to deserve that?”

Lily winced, and Sirius felt his heart freeze where it had melted on the floor.

“Well, apparently, you haven’t been a very good neighbor, have you?” she said gently. Everything started falling into place then, and Sirius suddenly had a pretty good idea what she was talking about. He could be a very self-absorbed prick after a row with his family.

“What can I do?”

“Maybe you should try apologizing first,” she doubted for a second before she kept going. “I’ve heard you broke something important of his on the day you two met.”

“That was him?!” Sirius asked in astonishment, remembering the day he’d knocked someone over in the hall, and ignoring the few heads that turned his way at his raised voice.

“You’re joking, right? You didn’t know?” When Sirius only shook his head, still speechless, Lily stared at him, bewildered. “Sirius, how could you not know?”

“I was so angry at the time Lily, I barely noticed anything I was doing!” Sirius said in a pleading voice. He glanced at James for support, who looked at him in sympathy and understanding. Sirius rubbed a hand over his face. “I just needed to get out of the flat, I couldn’t stand the sight of Reg with his cold eyes and-” Sirius stopped himself, clenching his fists.

It all came back to him. How Regulus had suddenly turned up at his flat, even though he wasn’t supposed to know the address. Even though he hadn’t visited Sirius’ home in five years.

How Reg had looked at him with such clear disappointment, like Sirius was nothing more than a waste of space, and had told him that he was expected to attend the annual Black Enterprises’ gala and fulfill his duty to the family. How he had stated that it was time he stopped acting like a child, with his foolish, selfish dreams, and took his place in the company.

Sirius had never wanted anything to do with the monster corporation that was Black Enterprises. He hated the way they did business and how they treated people, like anyone outside the Black family was trash.

A hand on his shoulder shook him away from his memories before he could spiral down into the hole he’d been in in the weeks before Halloween. Sirius looked up, and found James’ kind hazel eyes.

“It’s ok Pads,” he whispered. “You’re out of there. They have nothing on you, and you owe them absolutely nothing. I’m sure you can fix this.”

Sirius hoped his friend was right.

[wickedpact]

[waggles finger angrily in direction of computer screen] KEANE!

ok so i Started saying this in that other post but the Thing About keane is that he doesnt come off as being That Bad through the most of the movie. obviously hes not a good person; the fact that he works for merrick and that hes ex special forces alone is sus as fuck (like buddy, why arent you still in special forces?)

but in comparison to dr kozak (sadist) and merrick (also a sadist) keane doesnt seem that bad. he spends most of the movie standing around in douchebag suits and being intimidating. there are only like five scenes where we see him touch other people, ‘cause all he really does is order his goons around, and Usually when we Do see him touch people, he’s more or less Your Usual Brand of Asshole about it

long post under cut :/

like. 1.) grabbing joe after he headbutts merrick

2.) knocking out andy and booker with the sedative

3.) knocking out copley

4.) the joenicky fight scene

5.) the joe fight scene afterwards but that doesnt really count bc he never got a punch in (lol)

and in all of those, excluding the the joenicky fight scene (and the joe fight scene which i just said doesnt count) keane’s.... eh? hes not nice but he could be way meaner.

The Joe Grab: obviously not Good Boy behavior, obviously aggressive, but he doesnt hurt joe here. hes not even cutting off joe’s air, he’s just grabbing him.

i mean. in reaction to the headbutt, keane threatens joe without harming him, the goon behind joe pistol whips him, and merrick stabs him. of the three reactions we get, keane’s is the most mild. look, his finger isnt even on the trigger

andy & book; again not good boy behavior, but again he could have been way worse. when he sedates andy she struggles like fuck, and you can even see keane kind of stumble as he tries to hold her down. even so, he doesnt hit her to get her to stop, a thing his goons do fairly regularly to the others, and even when he grips her neck to hold her still, he’s holding her jaw more than her neck (look at his thumb). in the aftermath, she doesnt even have any marks. (this coming from the movie that gave merrick a red spot on his forehead for like a whole minute after joe headbutted him. lmao suck it merrick)

and when he goes for book, more of the same. he just kind of... holds him in place, despite his struggling. its professional . hes just a dude doing his job. Keane The Professional.

when he knocks out copley right after thats the only other time we see him personally harm someone, and even then that was with a specific order from merrick (you see him give keane A Look) and theres nothing sadistic there either. he hit copley, copley was out(TM), the end.

None Of This Gives Any Indication Of Keane Enjoying Causing Pain

AMND THEN: THE JOENICKY FIGHT

and Many People have discussed this fight so i wont go off too hard but. this fight. it lasts roughly thirty seconds. Thirty. and of those thirty seconds, keane spends about... eh, seventeen focused on nicky? (the kicking, the gun, etc) on joe? he spends about three. as in seconds. the other ten seconds is mostly keane getting beat on or standing ominously above the two of them.

and of the few analyses ive seen, people point out keane being homophobic as his motivation here (and he definitely is) but homophobia alone doesnt explain why keane WENT OFF on nicky specifically.

because like! the beginning of this fight! keane sends all of his goons after nile booker and andy! SIX men to fight THREE immortals, leaving KEANE ALONE to fight the other two! and then he walks into the room joe and nicky are in, sees them both lying there,

ADN HE PUTS AWAY HIS GUN

like! he already won the fight right then and there! nicky and joe were on the floor! a bullet to the head to both of them to keep them down and keane would have had them both, but no, keane puts his gun away, grabs his zipties,

AMDN then he goes straight for fucnening nicky

it would make Sense if hed gone for joe. he and joe have established beef. the headbutt. the speech in the van (which im sure keane heard at some point since those guards had bodycams and im sure keane wanted to know how he and nicky managed to kill his men and looked at the footage) --and theres the killing of the men itself, but both joe and nicky did that together. so.

either way, joe has been challenging the authority of keane and his men since he had the breath to do so. nicky’s barely glanced in keane’s direction (beyond the killing the men thing, which weve established both he and joe did)

other than that, worst thing nicky’s done to keane is nearly bump into him while he was busy making Disappointed Eye Contact with copley

but anyways: keane doesnt go for joe! he walks past joe’s body and goes for nicky, who’s just barely begun to move. it would also make sense, at this point, to put a bullet in nicky’s head here. like i said, keane’s already won. Keane The Professional wouldve already killed him.

instead, keane kicks nicky in the head, stands there and watches nicky get up, then kicks him a second time, and watches him again. he goes to do it a third time before nicky gets the drop on him.

at no point prior to this in the movie do we see keane behave like this. he doesnt cause pain for the sake of causing it. he doesnt hurt people pointlessly. here, he does. theres no reason to be kicking nicky like this. its not accomplishing anything, it’s not helping him capture them. hes just doing it ‘cause he wants to. (not to mention, each time you see him go to kick nicky, he goes to kick harder)

and actually, doing this is actively stupid! joe is waking up a foot away. there are three other immortals on the loose. merrick is unaccounted for. and keane is just wasting time. by dicking around rn, he’s actively shooting himself in the foot.

but anyways, nicky punches keane, keane kicks him off, and then joe’s awake, and This is the detail i just noticed a little earlier-- but when keane gets up here and joe grabs him: his head is turned towards nicky. his eyes are turned towards nicky. he’s moving towards nicky, not joe, who is the active threat in the moment

he doesnt even acknowledge joe until joe’s hand is physically on his head. joe had to physically Hold the dude back from going after nicky again

and then we see keane’s behavior change again when he sets his sights on joe. Keane The Professional is back again- two rapid-fire punches aimed at joe, no nonsense, no drawing it out, and then he goes for his gun

he doesnt draw it out. he doesnt sit and watch joe suffer. that gif is in real time, thats how fast keane took joe out. two punches, shoulder, neck, and then an immediate escalation to lethal force.

like the difference between: keane putting his gun away and then keeping it away for fifteenish seconds while focusing on nicky

vs

when focusing on joe, it takes him.. about two seconds & some change to pull the gun out again

keane wanted joe dead, but he wanted nicky to fucking suffer

and the you know, theres the obvious gun in mouth thing, which other people have talked about. the only thing i have to say about That is that its another fucking example of keane shooting himself in the foot. hes in a room filled with gas w/ no gas mask, and theres a very pissed off joe like two feet away from him recovering by the second. however, he doesnt do the Keane The Professional thing and put a bullet in nicky’s forehead-- he deliberately leans down, grabs nicky’s hair (and its not like he needed to, nicky sure as hell wasnt going anywhere anyway, unable to breathe and probably still sitting on a concussion after being kicked in the head) and jams the gun in nickys mouth. he’s wasting time doing that. it would have been faster and easier to just shoot nicky in the head. (like he probably was about to do to joe, considering how he doesnt step any closer to joe as he pulls out the gun)

and then he just??? bounces??

he is, again, in a position where he’d practically won. he had nicky dead. joe was on the ground. he could have gone for his mask, or shot joe and then fucked off to get a breath of Good Air. gun is still in his hand. he doesnt even try to take out joe, not even just shooting over his shoulder as he left. he doesnt give a shit about joe once nicky’s dead.

nicky was dead, so keane just left. and he double takes at the body as he goes??

like at first i thought he was confused nicky wasnt getting up, but he knows how the immortals work, he saw joe and nicky die on the body cams at the church. like sir why are fucking looking? fuck off?

but yeah theres just no explanation for this! nicky has done practically nothing to keane, but keane just zeroed tf in on nicky with no provocation! it couldnt have been just homophobia, if it were he would have targeted joe the same way he did nicky. he had to have some other motivation for acting completely differently @ nicky than he does to any other character in the film, and then just. going back to normal once nicky was dead. its weird. its creepy. and theres like 0 explanation. dont like it

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

:>

*******************************

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[tiny-stack-of-knights]

OKAY SO LIKE I GOT THIS ONE DONE REAL FAST BUT IM SUPER HAPPY WITH IT??!! Anyway here’s kirbs (:

Info about them and their place in the galactic crisis au under the cut!!

Here’s my general hcs for them!

-Kirby’s about 6 or 7 in this ref (except the two with the yellow backgrounds, we’ll get to those...). A small child, but a good child (:

-Since they’re a child, they’re only about 4’ tall, and will definitely be taller than meta when they’re older

-Speaking of which! They get moth wings when they’re older. Also they have paws because all of my puff gijinkas have them! The knights just like to keep them hidden since they make holding swords really hard...

-They were raised mostly on their own until meta knight stepped up and started taking care of him. And then dedede. And then they became a family ((::

-Because of the brief period in their life where they didn’t have a parental figure, they become VERY attached to anyone who shows them kindness (which, to be fair is just about anyone), especially his parents. They love meta knight and dedede so very much, and sometimes gets really anxious when away from them.

-If either of them are possessed, Kirby gets really distressed. It brings them a vague, forgotten pain from their past.

-Kirby hates sleeping alone. Despite having their own room, they often sneak in to sleep with dedede and meta. Well “”sneak in””. They’re not as sneaky as they think.

-Kirby’s fine with any pronouns really. Out of respect, and encouragement to define themself, most people use they/them for Kirbs. Very chill little dude

-Kirby is such a happy little kid. Like, this kid can bring joy to even the most depraved soul. They just love to make people happy, since they’re always happy too!!

-Well, mostly. Even as a well behaved kid, Kirby has their moments for sure. They still have a lot to learn socially and manners wise, and usually they only have outbursts when they can’t eat something, can’t have something shiny, or is asked to calm down their incredibly energetic and expressive demeanor. They also get really fucking mad if someone hurts their friends or family and will not hesitate to obliterate them. Kirby can be..surprisingly ruthless sometimes. But only sometimes (:

-It’s very hard to tell them no. They have puppy eyes like nobody else. And will possibly offer to make you something depending on how badly they want it.

-Despite being really young, they’re way more emotionally intelligent than most of the cast of the series.

-Kirby trusts just about anyone, and believes in the good in every single person! Even someone like Magolor, they refuse to give up on. They just want to bring good into the world ;v;

-They love drawing and making art, even if they don’t have the greatest motor skills yet. Anybody who gets a certified Kirby piece is blessed.

-Kirby loves space!! It’s hard for them to float all the way up there so meta takes them up there as a treat (:

-Kirby has vague memories of their first 2 years of life, but it’s muddled and usually comes to them through confusing dreams about a certain pink clad knight.

And here’s where the story for the galactic crisis au picks up (:<

(If you’re confused you can start from Galacta Knight’s ref!)

-Kirby is Void Termina’s opposite..so basically if the user of the Jamba Heart had a pure, happy wish!

-And that’s exactly what happened! Galacta Knight was the first to get close to the Jamba Heart after its hurried completion and sealing..basically before it could get sealed, his wish for a peaceful, happy universe (and admittedly, his desires for a family) manifested as Kirby.

-Therefore, Galacta Knight is technically Kirby’s father (:

-The unfortunate thing about being so close to the Jamba Heart as a Non-Jambandran, though, was that Galacta became corrupted by the Jamba Heart. More specifically, he became corrupted by what would have been, and would later be, Void Termina. Kirby acted as a foil to this though, and often kept him sane; neither of them realized this, however. Especially since Kirby was essentially an infant at this point.

-War broke out with the sealing of the Jamba Heart, and Galacta went into hiding with his little family of Morpho and Kirby.

-The two raised Kirby in secret and on the run from the Jambandrans and Halcandrans. At this point, Galacta was a wanted man. The Halcandrans blamed him for the outbreak of the war, and the Jambandrans were still convinced he was a Halcandran “super weapon”.

-Side note, since Kirby was raised by two puffballs (Galacta and Morpho), they eventually took the form of one later in life.

-After about 2 years of this, things went horribly wrong, resulting in the loss of Morpho Knight, and the breaking of Galacta’s fragile calm.

-He revealed himself for reasons I’ll explain in Morpho’s ref, causing both sides to immediately go after him.

-Eventually, Halcandra takes Kirby away as Galacta got more and more reckless, and the further from Kirby he got, the stronger his possession.

-A side note about Galacta’s possession. As Kirby’s foil, it’s still based on his wish for a peaceful universe and having a happy family. His corruption twists and distorts this desire to protect into something incredibly malicious.

-Hence, the destruction of Halcandra, the rescue of Kirby, and Galacta’s prompt removal from time by the Jambandrans. As a sort of bleak poetry, he really did become the super weapon they feared, just not in the way they thought ):

-As for what happened to Kirby and how they got to dreamland, that will be where Morpho’s ref picks up (:<

Thank you all once again for tuning in!! I’m pretty proud of Kirby’s ref, and I’ll probably be drawing them more aside from the two pics I already have with them and Galacta. And yes, I hope this helps clear up what’s going on in those two images. Thanks for making it to the end, and look forward to Morpho’s ref to tie everything up (: