#i might put updates on here maybe not idk

[faggotry-enjoyer]

wait are you planning on converting to Judaism?? :000

Yup! Set myself a soft deadline to reach out to one of the shuls near me by the end of spring break so I should be talking to a rabbi fairly soon, though it'll be a minute until I can officially officially start. But yes, I'm planning to.

[valentinending]

Stuff in tags ig

(If I n3ed to find the original post for picture credit lmk!)

[katethetank]

Ok I’ve never written anything before, and I’m obsessed with Steddie content. So without further adieu, here’s a modern day Steddie story where Eddie comes to terms with the hard truth that his husband’s snuggles might be more popular than his world famous band. This kind of got away from me and ended up way longer than I thought it would. Oops.

Content warnings: idk, TikTok I guess?! It’s fluffy and sweet, illusions to smut at the end

Eddie Munson was a notoriously private person. Corroded Coffin was the biggest metal/alt band in the world, and despite the fame, he managed to keep his personal life just that - personal.

There of course had been rumors over the last few years of who he was married to. Among the chunky metal rings that always adorned his fingers, fans couldn’t help but notice the simple silver band on his left ring finger. Paparazzi would occasionally catch him out in public with various women, leading his fans to speculate wildly who his mystery wife was.

But as soon as the rumors got started, they were quickly shut down. He was photographed once stumbling out of a club in New York with SNL star Robin Buckley on his arm. Social media went absolutely rabid and Robin made sure to clear things up the following Saturday on Weekend Update, announcing that she was in fact, a raging lesbian.

Not too long after that, Eddie was photographed clinking wine glasses with accomplished journalist Nancy Wheeler at a romantic rooftop restaurant in LA. When rumors started swirling around them of a secret affair, Nancy’s husband (and Rolling Stone photographer) Jonathan Byers put a stop to it by posting a picture of all three of them on his socials explaining that they were long time friends and out celebrating Nancy’s nomination for a Pulitzer.

Again the rumor mill started churning when Eddie was spotted giving a piggyback ride to pro skateboarder Max Mayfield after one of her competitions. Accusations of him “robbing the cradle” had her immediately posting a video on TikTok telling everyone off, fake gagging, and saying that Eddie was like her big brother. She then pulled Eddie into the frame asking, “Would you losers seriously believe I’d be into this ugly mug?” before promptly shoving his face away. Eddie was only a little offended.

Max’s video kind of blew up though, with everyone demanding more of Eddie’s presence on the app. Reluctantly he started his own account, his first video of him backstage at his sold out Madison Square Garden show, simply flashing the devil horns, sticking out his tongue, and greeting, “Hey assholes!”

It effectively broke the internet.

He was verified within a matter of hours, and had millions of followers within the first day.

Now all he had to do was figure out what the hell he was going to post. He didn’t want to share too much of his private life, but scrolling through the comments, he could see how much his fans truly loved seeing just that brief candid moment from him. So he started sharing bits and pieces behind the scenes at his shows, shots of the guys hanging out on the tour bus, and one lazy morning, a glimpse of his sleep-rumpled self in bed and his birds nest of bed head.

The comments on that last one exploded.

Everyone wanted to know who he was sharing that bed with, asking for a peek at his wife, if she was also famous. Who was he married to for god’s sake?!

He refused to take the bait.

One afternoon he set up his living room for a TikTok live, planning on just strumming his guitar, answering questions about the new album that was coming out, maybe taking some requests for songs to play. While he was glancing at the comments and plucking away at his acoustic, he didn’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps coming towards the room. He startled when he heard, “Babe, I’m home! I got you some more Honeycombs!”

Eddie froze. And the comments went absolutely fucking wild.

“Wait, was that a dude?!”

“Did some guy just call him babe???”

“SPOUSE REVEAL?!?!”

“OMG IS HE GAY???? I LOVE THIS FOR US!!”

“Oh I am so invested in this! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈”

“Honeycombs?! Really?!”

Eddie scrambled to set his guitar down, quickly thanked everyone for tuning in, and cut off the live stream.

Steve stepped into the room with a questioning look on his face. “Babe?… what’s wrong?”

Eddie glanced at him sheepishly mumbling, “We may have just spilled the beans on a live stream.”

“You were doing a live stream? What happened? And wait, what beans?”

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair, Eddie stood up and walked over to Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I was doing a TikTok live, playing some songs and talking about the new record. I didn’t hear you come in, and when you shouted that you were home, it was apparently loud enough for everyone to hear. So I shut it down fast before the comments got even more out of control. I didn’t know what to say!”

Steve leaned in and gave Eddie a peck on the nose, hugged him tight, and asked, “Well… how bad were the comments? Do you think people are gonna freak out?”

“Freak out? In a good way, maybe. They all seemed pretty surprised to hear a guy’s voice and were asking for a spouse reveal.”

Steve furrowed his brows and thought about it for a few moments. “What if we did?”

“Did what?”

“A spouse reveal. I gotta admit, it’s been pretty annoying having everyone assume you’re sleeping with our friends! I don’t really like the idea of being in the public eye, but what if we just did a quick video or something to put the rumors to bed for good?”

Admittedly it was a pretty good idea. Eddie liked being able to share parts of his life with his fans, and Steve was the biggest part of his life. It would be nice to show him off for a moment and finally tell the world who put that ring on his finger.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok! Let’s do it!”

Eddie grabbed his phone, opened TikTok, and got comfy on the couch. Steve sat down next to him, cuddled into his side. He started the video with the camera just on himself, took a deep breath, and hit record.

“Hey guys! Sorry to dip out of my live stream so suddenly. I was a little thrown off with that interruption, but thought it would be best to come on here and clear the air. Yes, I’m married. Yes, my spouse is a man. Yes, my favorite cereal is Honeycombs, don’t come at me for that! And this is Steve.”

He tilted his phone so both his and Steve’s faces were in the frame. Steve smiled brightly and did a little finger wave. “Hey everybody!”

Eddie giggled and turned to kiss Steve on the cheek. Even after years of being together, Eddie’s affections still made him blush. Steve turned at looked at Eddie with stars in his eyes and whispered, “I love you babe.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

They shared a brief kiss before Eddie ended the video and immediately posted it.

He effectively broke the internet again.

Millions of likes and comments flooded in, a huge wave of love and support from his fans. And of course, more questions.

“Shut up, they are so fucking cute I’m gonna puke”

“I’m so sad that the married rumors are true, but omg his husband is crazy hot! Good for him!”

“His name is Steve?! Why is that so adorable?!”

“Find yourself a man who looks at you like Steve looks at Eddie!”

“Who is this Steve?! TELL! ME! EVERYTHING!”

“We demand more Steve!”

“Ok I need more details immediately”

The demand for more Steve content did not stop. Eddie still wanted to keep his private life as private as possible, but Steve had no problem with popping up in a few videos here and there. Rolling his eyes in the background at Eddie’s antics, hands on his hips while scolding the band for being late to an interview, painting Eddie’s nails backstage before a show. Just little glimpses of Steve being Steve. His fans ate that shit up.

One night Eddie was left to his own devices while Steve was out having a “girls night” with Robin, Nancy, Max, and El. Why he wasn’t invited too he will never know. Not that he was jealous or anything. Totally not jealous. He decided to set up another TikTok live while he screwed around on his guitar. About an hour in, the front door flew open and in stumbled a very flushed, very giggly, very drunk Steve.

“BABE! I SAW ARIANA GRANDE TONIGHT!”

Eddie started laughing as Steve made his way into the living room, glancing at how the comments went absolutely apeshit again.

“Stevie, sweetheart, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

Steve took the guitar out of Eddie’s hands and plopped down in his lap. “Babe, seriously! I saw Ariana Grande! Me and the girls went to some club and Nancy got us into the VIP section, and there she was! Just! Sitting there looking all cool and famous! Babe, it was awesome!”

Chuckling, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, kissed him on his temple, and pointed at his phone set up on a tripod. “Stevie, you interrupted my live stream again. Say hi to everyone!”

Steve turned his head towards the phone, eyebrows raising up, and smiled dopily. “Oh! Hi guys! Did you hear?? I saw Ariana Grande!” He then quickly snapped his drunken gaze back towards Eddie. “OH MY GOD! Babe! Do you think she’s on here?! Can you message her?!” He turned back to the phone shouting, “Ariana! I’m Steve! We should hang out! Eddie, tell her we should hang out!”

Eddie started cackling and patted Steve’s head like a puppy. “Ok big boy, you’ve clearly had enough. Sorry guys, I’m gonna have to cut the stream short and put this one to bed. And uh, yeah. Ariana Grande, if you’re into hanging out with preppy former jocks who like to snuggle while they’re wasted, let me know I guess. Goodnight!”

Eddie looked down at Steve, who had tucked himself into Eddie’s chest while he was talking, and gave a little kiss on his head before ending the live stream.

“Hmmm… sleepy.”

“I know you’re sleepy sweetheart, let’s get you into jammies and tuck you in.”

The next morning Eddie awoke to a hungover Steve groaning into his neck, and a message on TikTok from none other than Ariana Grande.

“What the fuck?!”

“Hng… too loud.”

“Sweetheart. Stevie. Wake up!”

“No.” Steve pulled the covers over his face.

“Honey, seriously, you need to wake up. You’ve gotta see this.”

“Eds, I don’t wanna see shit, I wanna sleep.”

“Stevie, do you remember coming home last night and telling everyone on TikTok that you want to hang out with Ariana Grande?”

Steve flipped the covers back off and gave him an incredulous look. “I did not.”

“Yeah princess, you did. You stumbled in talking about how you saw her at a club and wanted to hang out with her. And guess the fuck what.”

“…….what?”

Eddie turned his phone for Steve to see the message.

“What the?… ‘Hey Eddie! I caught your livestream last night and my answer is yes! Steve seems like an absolute doll, I’d love to hang out with him’”

Steve looked at him with wide eyes and just stared for few beats.

“SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH ME?!”

His volume made both men wince, Steve immediately grabbing his throbbing head and groaning.

“Yes, sweetheart, apparently babbling drunk gay men are her thing. So, when should I tell her you’re free?”

The following Wednesday, Steve was a nervous wreck. He had cleaned the house from top to bottom, prepped a gorgeous charcuterie board, had wine chilling in the fridge, and checked his hair about 30 times.

“Stevie, darling, sweetheart. You’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Eddie, Ariana fucking Grande is coming to our house! How is this even happening? What if we don’t have anything in common? What if she thinks I’m an awkward idiot? I don’t wanna screw this up!”

Eddie wrapped Steve up in his arms and gave him a tight squeeze. “You won’t screw anything up. Everyone loves you Stevie. Just be you, and she’ll love you too. And if you’re freaking out, I’m a phone call away, alright? I should only be at the studio for a few hours and then I’ll be home before you know it. You two will have a great time! Ok?!”

Steve let out a long suffering sigh. “Ok.”

The doorbell rang and Eddie took his hand, walking with Steve to go greet their guest of honor. As soon as the door opened, Ariana Grande herself was standing there with a huge smile on her face. “Steve! Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you!” She immediately gave Steve a hug and barley even acknowledged Eddie standing there.

“Ok. Well. I guess I’m not needed here. Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I would do!” Steve laughed and gave him a quick peck before leading his guest into the house.

After a few hours of polishing some tracks on the new album, Eddie headed back home. He hadn’t heard from Steve the whole time he was out, and hoped that everything went smoothly with his new friend. Or whatever the hell this was.

Opening his front door, he was greeted with the sounds of giggles, clinking glass, and… are they watching Twilight?!

He pulled out his phone and started recording as he walked into the living room. “Here I am, coming home after hours of slaving away on our new album to find THIS.” He flipped the camera around to a view of Steve and apparently his new best friend, snuggled under a blanket, wine glasses in hand, a few empty bottles on the table, surrounded by a mess of crumbs, giggling at blue-tinted vampires playing baseball.

He flipped the camera back to himself, sulking “I think I’ve been replaced.”

Internet: broken.

“Did they just become best friends?!”

“Awwwww I want Steve Snuggles!”

“Living for this!!!!”

“#stevesnuggles”

“Wait, did he make her a charcuterie board??”

In the weeks that followed, #stevesnuggles took over social media. Everyone and their mother was gushing about Eddie’s adorable husband, wanting to see more of him, and his snuggles. Eddie couldn’t blame them, really. The man is adorable. But he still wanted to keep sort of a lid on their private life, so he limited most of his posts to just Corroded Coffin content. Anticipation for the new album was amping up, a tour was being planned, and the buzz was buzzing.

Unfortunately with all of the work leading up to the release, Eddie wasn’t getting enough of his daily allotment of Steve Time. He was looking forward to the weekend when his schedule was clear so he could finally have some quality time with his husband and soak up all of those famous snuggles.

Life had other plans, though. Friday afternoon he got a text from Steve saying that it was his turn to host girls night. Again, why was Eddie not invited to these things?? Not that he was jealous. Of course not. That would be crazy. He resigned himself to the fact that tonight, he’d have to share his husband.

When he stepped into their home, he immediately recognized the honking laughter of a tipsy Robin, Nancy’s adorable giggle, but there were several other voices he couldn’t decipher. Thinking ahead, he once again pulled out his phone and started recording.

“HONEY, I’M HO- the fuck?!”

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. He flipped the camera around to focus on the absurd cuddle puddle on the floor. In a pile of what must have been every blanket and pillow in the house, was the obvious collection of Steve, Nancy, Robin, and apparently now Ariana. But then…

“Sweetheart, why are Rhianna and Taylor Swift on our living room floor?”

Steve just looked up at him pie-eyed and sweetly stated, “Girls night!” to which the bizzare collection of women shouted, “Hi Eddie!”

How many times can you break the internet before it stays broken?

“WHAT. THE FUCK.”

“Ummmmm best girls night ever?”

“How do I get an invite??”

“So Steve is just a magnet for powerful women then. Got it.”

“#STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

Steve snuggles indeed. Eddie was so used to being in the limelight, it was a strange adjustment to have his once under the radar husband be in such high demand. Every time he posted a TikTok of the band, the comments were flooded with requests for more Steve. He did sometimes cave and give the people what they wanted. Quick videos of Steve cooking them dinner while dancing to his god forsaken pop music, sneak peeks of some of their new songs with Steve singing along, and ok, one thirst trap of him working out in their home gym. Eddie was a just a man after all, and his husband was hot.

The album was finally released and sales were through the roof. Corroded Coffin had never sold so many copies before and someone from the label insisted that their TikTok presence had everything to do with it. Was it actually them, or the love for Steve? Who’s to say. Either way, their concerts across the country were sold out in a matter of minutes and the band couldn’t wait to kick off their next tour.

The first show was in LA and Eddie had planned to do a quick TikTok before they took the stage. He started in the hallway backstage, welcoming everyone to the start of the tour, and made his way into the green room. “Alright everyone, let’s check in quick with the band and make sure these dickheads are ready to go! BOYS! ARE WE - Steve?! What the hell?”

He flipped the camera around to the view of Steve happily scrolling on his phone on one of the couches. With Dua Lipa cuddled up on one side of him and Lady goddamn Gaga on the other. What the fuck is his life?

“Babe! Hi! The girls were in town and came by to check out the show!”

“I’m sorry… THE GIRLS?! How do you even know them?!”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him like he was an idiot and said, “Lipa was on SNL and she had Robin get us connected. And Jon did a photo shoot with Stef and…basically the same thing.”

Stef?! Who the fuck is Stef? Wait right… Lada Gaga is a stage name.

Eddie flipped the camera back on himself and just. Stared. “I…I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

Queue the comments.

“Ok is he like best friends with EVERY icon?!”

“Steve IS the icon! 💅”

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some #stevesnuggles in here?!”

“Omfg Eddie’s never gonna get his own #stevesnuggles now is he?”

“SHARE THE WEALTH”

“I can’t believe this app is free”

From there on the tour went off without a hitch and fans in every city were rabid for the new album. And of course Steve. Goddamnit. He’d occasionally see people in the crowd with “#stevesnuggles” t-shirts, or hear chants of “We want Steve!” Yeah, Eddie gets it. He wants Steve too. For himself.

Eddie took to posting a lot of videos from backstage with the band, sound checks, screwing around with the crew. And of course to appease the masses, some of Steve in his element. Putting on Gareth’s eyeliner, helping Jeff pick out his stage clothes, and rubbing Eddie’s shoulders after a grueling show. Just Steve mother henning everyone.

When they made it to New York, they had an appearance on SNL a few days before their concert. They got to catch up with Robin, meet the cast, and get a feel for what went into producing the show. Eddie hadn’t heard who the host was, not that it probably mattered much since they’d only see them at the end-of-show sign off.

He was in the middle of doing a livestream behind the scenes, walking the legendary halls of Studio 8H when he popped into his dressing room to show off the digs. “And here we have my office for the night…. Uh. Stevie? What? The fuck?” He turned the camera around to see Steve snuggled up with… goddamn Beyoncé.

“Hey babe! Did you meet Bee yet? She’s hosting tonight!”

No the fuck he didn’t meet “Bee!” And sorry, his husband is already on a nickname basis with this Queen?! Who the hell did he marry??

Goodbye internet.

“HOLY. SHIT.”

“Seriously, gay men have all the luck.”

“Two absolute queens, omg”

“BEYONCÉ GETS #STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

“Eddie, your husband belongs to Bee now, my condolences”

“Don’t tell Jay Z”

The show went well even though Eddie was visibly shook by his husband’s new friend. Seriously, what is his life?! How much further was this going to go? He was relieved when the tour finally ended and they could go back to their bubble of domestic bliss. That is, until the next girls night probably!

Once they were back home and settled into their routine, he realized he needed to make some more content now that things have calmed down. Privacy was always important to him, but after a night of taking his husband apart over and over, he smirked and had an idea.

Quietly grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he started recording. Steve with his chaotic sex hair, neck covered in hickies, and curled up sound asleep on Eddie’s chest. A chest that was decorated in tattoos and nipple piercings, as well as fresh scratch marks. Eddie smirked at the camera, winked and whispered “hashtag Steve snuggles.”

RIP internet.

[hyperfixat]

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! here’s the first chapter to a new multi part series i’m working on! it’s an isekai of honkai star rail. (sahsrau, sort of…?) ANYWAY!! enjoy,,, updates will be. idk maybe once a month so i don’t get stressed about pumping out chapters… this baby has been baking for a few months in the drafts already LMAO. likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3 and my reqs are perpetually open! 4.1K words.

next >

** Written PRE 1.4 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcannons.

Your dailys are finished and there’s no new content, so you decide to look for some hidden quests throughout the map. You’re sure you’ve collected all the chests on the Herta Space Station, but you use a teleport waypoint there anyway. Caelus (although that is not what you have named them,) sprints under your control, running against the invisible wall separating available land from unavailable land.

You click aimlessly, your character summoning their weapon of choice, a bat in this case, and attacking the blank divider. They hit it a few times, the animation sparking as they attacked the blank. It’s not like you’re expecting something to happen, although a person can hope, but then something does happen.

The office around you, where you’re playing on your PC blurs. You attempt to clear your vision with a few harsh blinks, but your vision only gets worse. It’s golden tunnel vision to your computer screen, the Trailblazer isn’t there, oddly enough, but that doesn’t quite matter at the moment, as you feel the world around you warp. Your body and soul, something you weren't even aware of, are pulled, nay sucked, into your screen. The screen, something that should be impermeable, gives way like nothing, like air.

Something as large as the human body should not be able to fit through your screen, but you do. Somehow you do.

It’s warm and hot and cold and freeing as it is oppressive.

You’re disoriented and confused, and for some reason you know you’re no longer alone and in your office.

Tentatively you allow yourself to move and lift your head. Instead of being seated on your desk chair, you’ve fallen into a heap in… is this one of the rooms in the Supply Zone? That.. that cannot be right. That’s in a video game and this is real life.

…Right?

What are you thinking about?! Of course this is real life, just a dream, yes, a dream. What are they called, lucid dreams? That makes sense, you’re lucid dreaming, even if you’ve never had one before, you’re lucid dreaming.

Well if you’re lucid dreaming, maybe you can have some fun? What do you do?

Fuck, you aren’t prepared for this.

Before you can think of something good someone moseys into the modern-style storage room you're in. Oh, hey, it’s the main character of Honkai: Star Rail, the game you were playing before falling into this lucid state. You want to greet them; you should greet them.

Wait, do you call them Caelus or the name you put into the game? Ah, wait, can you pause this?

“Huh? What are you doing in here?” Their voice sounds… well just like it does in game.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer because you don’t know what you’re doing here. They wait for a reply, head tilting cutely as you think of a comprehensible answer.

“I’m… not sure.” You draw out the sentence as if by prolonging the words a better answer would appear.

Caelus walks closer to you, moving from the doorway to stand only a foot away holding out their hand to help you up.

“Are you lost? What part of the base are you stationed at? I know this place really well, I can help you find where you belong.” The confidence in their voice wanes, “Well, by your clothes…” their brow creases “are you from here?”

“Uh, I don’t, I don't know.”

They purse their lips, head tilting as they think. “Well, I don’t know who I should bring you to. You’re not a threat, at least not yet. Herta would be my first guess, but I don’t like her, and she might not even care or respond.” Another moment as they ponder, “let’s go find Mr Yang. He might be able to help jog your memory, or find out where you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay.” The walk through the station feels like a fever dream, though this is a dream, so that makes sense.

Caelus pulls open the heavy metal door to the Astral Express and holds out a hand to help you climb up inside. They don’t let go of your hand as you enter the passenger cabin.

“Mr Yang?” They call out, fingers readjusting over your own. Their hand is cool and comforting, realistic for a dream.

Welt Yang, sitting on the red curving couch looks up, setting down his book. His eyebrows raise when he sees that Caelus is not alone and is towing along a strange person dressed in even stranger clothes.

“Yes, Caelus? What do you need?” His eyes flicker between your faces before settling on Caelus’.

“This person, ah what’s your name?” They flush a pretty pink and turn to you, fingers flexing nervously around yours. When you give it to them, they repeat it aloud to Welt. “Is lost. How do we help them?”

Welt Yang frowns, a crease denting his forehead and he adjusts his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he gives a low, thoughtful hum.

“What did Madam Herta say? You found them on her vessel.” Caleus rubs the back of their neck, a pink falling over his cheeks and tinting his ears.

“Well, I was hoping to avoid taking them to her…”

Welt doesn’t react, as if already knowing the answer. “Well,” his amber eyes meet yours. “What do you say to staying on the Astral Express for the time being? Of course, we’ll have to check with the conductor to make sure that’s okay.”

Caelus nods, their eyes narrowing as they think. “Do you think Ms Himeko might have an idea of how to jog their memory?” Their body shifts towards you as do their eyes, “in any case, we should find Pompom first, that’s the conductor.”

You want to say you know exactly who Pompom is, but that would sound odd from what should be a stranger, wouldn’t it?

Speak of the devil, Pompom comes waddling their body over to your gaggle. They aren’t as small as the game made them seem, maybe four feet of smooth fluff, and a content face.

“Hi Trailblazer, hi Welt, hi… Hi.” They pause and look up into your face, their features contorting, before they accuse you. “You aren’t a passenger!”

“Oh.” You don’t really know how to respond to that. Aside from acknowledging the obvious, they haven’t given you anything worthwhile to say. Before the silence can become too suffocating Caelus comes to the rescue, saving you from the critical look of the conductor.

“About that!” They give the creature a charming smile, putting their body between yours and theirs. “I was hoping my new friend could stay on the express until they can remember where their home is.”

So that’s why you’re staying, well staying til you wake, maybe wake. Fuck, you need a minute, well maybe once it settles in and you realize that you can’t escape, and don’t know how or why you’re here. Oh, you hope this is just a sleep deprived, very immersive deep sleep.

“Hmm,” Pompom shoves past Caelus’ legs to size you up. Their large, animal eyes make you melt, and you offer them a shy, nervous smile. “We’re out of rooms, but,” they turn back to Caelus, “if you or another passenger are willing to share, Pompom guesses they can stay.”

“Thank you, Pompom,” your smile widens a bit more. “But, maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to say that. I don’t know if anyone would want to share a room with me.” A breathy, panicky laugh leaves you, “I am a stranger here, after all.”

Pompom gives you one last, long look before shuffling away back to their rounds of the train.

“Hm, well, I understand where you’re coming from. But,” Caelus frowns and their eyes darken, going downcast, nervously. “I feel oddly connected to you. There’s more than one reason I didn’t take you to Madam Herta. I was hoping you might be able to stay on the Express, at least for a bit. So I could get to know you, a bit.” As your expression remains impassive, they’re quick to continue, taking hold of both of your hands. Their hands are large and warm, engulfing yours earnestly. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. I am trying to help you, however I can. Which is why I want to extend an invitation for you to stay with me, in my room.”

“Thank you, Caelus.” Warmth fills both your heart and face, both from the words and their touch alike. “I know you’re trying to help me, I truly appreciate it.”

They’re being so genuine, it makes you want to cry. How can you tell them this is all a dream, your dream at that. They aren’t even real, for crying out loud! The way they treat you makes you never want to wake up, stay so they can care for you, spend time with you. Would it be selfish to want to stay, to never leave, what would happen to your life if you never woke up, never left this dream (game, whatever it is now)?

You have the sudden urge to harm yourself, just for the sake of proving if this reality is just a dream or if some spatial temporal nonsense happened for you to get sucked into your PC’s game, turned real world.

The time you spend worrying cuts short when March 7th’s cheerful voice calls into the express. You hadn’t even noticed the metal screaming of the door as it was pried open.

“Caelus~ Help me convince Dan Heng to let us go back to the Xianzhou Luofu for some Berrypheasant Skewers and Immortal’s Delight- oh!” She’s spotted you. Her face lights up, an odd reaction, you think, upon seeing a stranger in what is essentially her home. “Hi there!”

“Hi,” you greet meekly, not used to being around someone so high energy. Not that you don’t like it, on the contrary she’s a very gregarious person, and the energy she brings makes you feel content.

“Caelus didn’t tell me they brought a guest!” March giggles. “It’s nice to see you, have we met before? I’d hate to think I’d forgotten your face.”

“No, you haven’t met me before.” It’s not a lie, you craft your words carefully. You know her though, very well, at that.

“Oh, well you can call me March 7th! What’s your name?” She fully enters the compartment now, the heavy train door slamming loudly behind her. She’s really pretty and cute in person, you wish that your mind could come up with any better words to describe her, but your mouth feels more than a little dry as she gets closer to you. You tell her, words sounding like mush, but she smiles and repeats it back to you, giving it a compliment.

She makes your heart stutter, and you smile at her, a little dumbly. Luckily Caelus seems sympathetic to your plight (going dumb at the sight of a pretty girl) and takes over explaining why you’re here.

“Memory loss, huh?” March pulls a sympathetic face. “I can relate. Well, you seem like a lovely person, and a friend of Caelus is a friend of mine, so my door is always open if you need to talk.”

Your deceit feels harsh, because you don’t have memory loss. Now March might try to bond over this perceived shared trauma, one that you don’t have…

March pats your shoulder in an attempt to soothe, a rush of her scent (solidifying this is more than a dream) fills your nose, fresh, clean, and sweet.

“Thank you, March, I appreciate it.”

“Anything for a friend!” March turns to Caelus, who lets your hands go as March engages them in a conversation. “Now, Caelus, help me convince Dan Heng to vote for Xianzhou Luofu on this week’s stop! I really want some of the local food.” She exaggerates the ‘really’ dramatically, making her eyes wider; the epitome of puppy dog style begging.

“Ah,” Caelus turns their head away, squeezing their eyes shut. “I already was planning on voting for Jarilo VI, and I’m pretty sure Dan Heng is dead set on his vote for another week at the space station.”

March sighs in disappointment, eyeing Welt as her next target before, “Wait! You’re officially a passenger now!” She is talking to you, “won’t you please vote for the Xianzhou Luofu as this week’s destination?”

The Xianzhou Luofu, you think about it. They don’t know that you know the place like the back of your hand, but it’s not like you have anything against the place. In fact, you’d rather not face the harsh cold of Jarilo VI so new to this world.

Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that right now, the fact you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and you’re passively deceiving everyone you meet. Your knees feel a bit weak, but you manage to force an agreeable response to March.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, Caelus,” you grab their forearm to steady, “could I have a moment to lay down?”

“Oh shit,” they steady you, leading you to the couch, and helping you lay diagonally. Your eyes slip closed. Not caring about what you make yourself look like, you turn your face into the back cushion, tightening the harshness of how tight your eyes are closed.

Are you really stuck here? Is this more than a dream? Without fully realizing it, you drag your blunt nails over the length of your forearm. A soft, trembling gasp disguises the hiss of pain you make. Not a dream.

Fuck, not a dream.

You push your face deeper into the cushion, inhaling the scent of dust and fabric. The sensory input makes you even more certain this isn’t a dream. How do you go back to your world? Are you a missing person yet? What harm will come if you stay here, both to this world and your world? Do you tell them the truth?

How earth-shattering would it be to find out that your whole life is nothing but code? You are but a character built to entertain millions, any sense of individuality and personhood would surely fade. You can’t do that to them, can you?

But maybe it would help you get back to where you belong…

It hits you then, Welt Yang. Well, he doesn’t hit you. He’s still reading his book on the couch opposite to you. You’re no lore expert on any Honkai game except Star Rail, but he’s from like, another world as well, or something like that, right? Sure that world is another video game, probably, but alternate dimensions are alternate dimensions, right?

How would that conversation start? Hey Mr Yang, you’re a video game character and I’m from a different world, teehee can you help me figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now? Would he even believe you? Would you even believe you?

A warm hand rubs over your upper back, along your shoulder blades and vertebrae. Caelus, your heart stutters, a funny thing, at how you already know how much you’ll miss them.

“Do you want to use one of my Life Transmitters or a Healing Spray?” They offer their voice, kind and calm. “Or would something like Comfort Food be more to your taste right now?”

You move your face out of the cushion, “thank you, Caelus, you’re too kind. I’ll be okay, just… thinking.” Thinking of how this shouldn’t be real, how you’re too good to be real.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all, no matter how small.”

Caelus eventually left with March to pester Dan Heng, leaving you to revel in your confusing thoughts. After a few more minutes of lying on the couch, you steel yourself to face Welt Yang.

Thinking of his face is enough to make your hands clam up. Will he send you away and dismiss it as insane ramblings of nervous breakdown from one of Miss Herta’s overworked employees? He’ll believe you, won’t he? Surely a man of his caliber and experience can spot when someone is telling the truth, no matter how fantastical?

Pushing yourself up, you fight the tired and nerves that cling to you, and stand on unsteady legs. Welt looks up as you approach, folding the ear of the page he’s on and snapping the book shut.

“Uhm, Mr Yang, could we maybe talk in private?” Your voice sounds warbled, but if it’s more than a trick of your ears Mr Yang doesn’t let you know, instead offering you a reassuring smile and nodding.

“I will lead you to my room. No one will disrupt us there.” You’re glad he hasn’t questioned your intentions. Does he suspect you already and was unwilling to call you out openly?

Welt leads you down the sleeping cart aisle, maintaining a respectful distance from you the whole while.

He uses the handle of his cane to tap on his door handle, a jolt of pink-red magic and a click of the door’s locking mechanism and you are presented with your chance to talk to Welt Yang privately.

Welt’s eyes meet yours expectantly. You gulp.

“So. On a scale of one to one hundred how well would you react to me telling you this is a video game?” Yeah, and if this goes poorly you can pretend this was all a joke–!

Welt's previously curious harden into something more serious. “What?”

Ah fuck, nope, nevermind. “Hahaha.” It’s fake and painfully obvious to you both. “Sorry to bother you Mr Yang, I will see myself out.”

“No.” Welt positions himself between you and the exit. “Tell me.”

It’s hard not to spill the beans when those dark amber eyes bore into your very soul. And, you do.

You tell him how you got sucked through your PC and woke up in what should be simply pixels on your monitor. You tell him how you don’t know what to do and how he’s one of the only characters, well, you correct yourself, people, you thought might know how to help you.

Welt’s face is stoic and you purse your lips as your nerve filled ramble comes to an end. “How… odd.”

You’re sure it must be. Especially for him, learning he’s a game franchise’s tool, everything he’s done was all written out and predetermined by forces he has no hope to control.

Welt sits on the edge of his bed, cane used to steady himself. “I need a moment, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m the interloper here.” You kneel in front of him, trying to comfort the man in any way you can. After a brief hesitation you cover his hand with your own. Perhaps physical contact will bring some sense of consolation.

His brows are furrowed, but your touch lesses it minutely.

“Do you… want to go back?”

It’s a fair question, but you aren’t sure of the answer yourself. Because on one hand, being in this fantasy world with characters you like that treat you nicely is quite literally a dream come true, but on the other hand you have a life. Not anything important, you’re just a person. A person with friends and family and a job that all needs you.

You cannot be sure of how much time will pass before you can leave this world, universe, whatever. Is this even your real body? Is there an empty vessel sitting in your desk chair that will wither and decay while you explore the wide world of Honkai Star Rail? You are led to believe this is your real body due to the sensations that an artificial vessel wouldn’t feel.

But.

There are your favorite characters and they’re so so nice. So far.

Your inner turmoil must be showing on your face because Welt squeezes your hand, running his thumb over the back of your palm.

“I suppose a better question might be: are you comfortable staying in this world for a prolonged period of time?”

This time the answer comes easier, “yes.”

“That certainly makes things easier,” Welt relents.

“Do we tell anyone?” The question brings on another bout of quiet. You wet your lips, nerves still simmering from the confession you made.

“I think it would be best to keep it among the, how shall I phrase it, main characters?” Welt winces. “Who would they be? Me, if you know enough to confide in me, and who else?”

“Well, I don’t think you, the Express, like all the main characters, but,” you sigh, beginning to count off who you can think of. “Caelus, March, Dan Heng, you, Himeko, Sampo, Gepard, Serval, Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Luka, Blade, Kafka, Silver Wolf, Herta; maybe, Asta, Arlan, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Jinglui, Loucha… There might be more, but they seem to be the most lore relevant and repetitive so far.”

“Yes, I imagine some conflict might crop up with that roster…” Welt thinks. The way his brow furrows and his legs spread (manspreading… drool) is subtly attractive.

Ah, the Stellaron Hunters. You can and will admit you want to see Blade and Kafka badly, but if it could result in… tension, would it be worth it in the long run? Just to satiate your thirst? They’re so imposing in the best way possible.

“Hm. Do you want to tell them?” Welt interrupts your little Kafka slash Blade slash you fantasy.

After a moment of mentally debating, you decide that, “yes, I do. All of them.”

“Very well.” Welt gives a reassuring smile, “I will support you in any path you may choose to take.” And if that didn’t make butterflies flutter all the way from the pit of your tummy up to your throat.

“If they were to ask; how am I going to prove myself? Is there something that can show I’m not from this world?” Sudden anxiety seizes you, will your favorite characters mock you? You’d die.

“There’s nothing to say they won’t believe you. You’ve convinced me after all.” It helps you stay calm, and you nod seriously. There’s another gap where neither of you speak.

“Who will we see first, do you know?”

“How about the whole Express has a meeting and we can decide from there, sound good?” Ah, that smile. A shot to the heart it is.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Yang.” Your face is hot when you say it, suddenly desperate to leave the room and cool yourself.

Oblivious to your sudden burst of attraction, Welt continues on. “Of course, always feel free to stop by my room. I’d like to extend an invitation as the others have, if you want to rest in my room, you’re welcome to.”

Rounding up the entire Astral Express doesn’t take as long as you expected it to. Himeko was in her room; and March, Caelus, and Dan Heng weren’t far from the loading deck; and Pompom is always on the Express.

“So.” You start, folding your hands together and looking at everyone around the table. They’re all watching you, and it’s really sort of scary, but you need to be brave. “I’m not from… here.”

Honestly they take the news well. Sure there were some questions, some you knew the answer to, others you are unsure of yourself.

“Is that why,” Caelus cuts themself off. “I feel drawn to you.”

“Drawn to me?” Your head tilts curiously, “could you expand on that?”

“I feel it too,” Dan Heng murmurs, eyeing Caelus. At this you lean back, furrowing your brows in thought.

“Oh?” March leans into Dan Heng’s seat. “I think I know what they’re talking about.”

“Something, emotionally, maybe, makes me want to be close with you,” Himeko speaks to you directly for the first time. “It’s like a tugging in my chest telling me to care about you.”

Ignoring the blatant rush of heat to your cheeks, Caelus expands on Himeko’s words. “Exactly. I can’t explain how or why, but I feel that you’re important, at least to me.”

Fuck, they’re going to make leaving so hard, won’t they? They can’t just say things like that.

“Oh.” Processing those words is hard.

Noting the way you’ve halted and your body language, March hovers a hand over your forearm, debating whether to touch you.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” She asks, already sounding let down.

“No! No, not at all. It’s just.” You laugh, not out of humor or joy, but something nervous. “If you guys say things like that I’m not going to want to leave.”

“What if we don’t want you to leave?”

“I think that’s a conversation for another day, Caelus.” Welt steers the conversation back on track; what you really came to ask: “Where are we stopping first?”

next >

[anotherlittlemuppet]

WELCOME HOME SPOILERS!!!

I wanted to put out a few theories and things i've noticed throughout these updates so here they are!!

1- Smooth.

We keep seeing Barnaby all over these commercials with the words 'Smooth' repeated multiple times like the cigarettes and the dog food commercial, it is unclear what for but we know that Home may be jealous of Barnaby, in the last update we see someone (Home??) telling Barnaby to MOVE (Idk is figuratively or literally) But in the last update with the video of Wally and Home we see Home get a bit frustrated at Barnaby and he is the only one realizing Wally space out (Home controlling Wally most likely) But immediately after Barnaby says 'Wally' Home gets out of his head and cuts the video. Something MAY happen to Barnaby and the words 'Smooth' could have some type of hint towards it since we keep seeing Barnaby the most out of everyone, even more than Wally.

2- Julie Theory

We see this image of Julie before right? Well in the recent update we see more and more people snap out of their trance, not just Frank. It is most likely JULIE is next.

We see flowers EVERYWHERE in Welcome Home, and we know that Julie can speak with the flowers, talk to them and gives them kisses (which is adorable) But maybe Julie is going to use that to her advantage to get information in the town to find out what's really happening, or might hear something from her flowers that tell her this. We see one flower with eyes already, so maybe others might have as well? And we see Julie is always on Frank's side (or usually) even agreeing with Frank on homewarming, maybe she is next or will be against everyone but i'm really confident about the flower thing lol

Just things i've noticed though so this may not be true at all though.

[missmonsters2]

Your Touch is My Shelter

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.

Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 5.2k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

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You heard the news through Bruce. 

Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else. 

You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.

Tony was gone. 

A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone. 

Steve was gone. 

What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it. 

Vision was gone. 

Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound. 

Natasha was gone. 

But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days. 

Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it. 

Natasha was back. 

Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."

Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"

"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."

"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed. 

"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."

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You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to. 

You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world. 

It made you sick to your stomach. 

But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were. 

She was in good hands. 

So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.

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The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.

"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"

"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."

But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him. 

"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."

"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."

"And what do you suppose I can do?"

"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."

"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."

It felt wrong. 

You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.

But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.

"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.

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June 2012

"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.

There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."

"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies. 

"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.

"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.

"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile. 

"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh. 

You began treating Natasha's wound carefully. 

"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."

You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."

"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?" 

"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."

"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."

"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."

"And if I come back blonde?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.

"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."

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April 2014

"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"

Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."

You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed. 

You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you. 

"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed. 

"Am I interrupting?"

"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."

"Oh, me too."

You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.

You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2015

"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."

"Is this too complicated for you?"

"No."

"Then am I unwelcomed?"

You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."

You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"

"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."

You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again. 

You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.

"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."

You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical. 

You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."

"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

September 2016

"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door. 

"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils. 

"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."

Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."

You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."

Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't agree with what he's doing."

"So you're on Steve's side?"

"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."

Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.

"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.

"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"

"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"

"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."

You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.

"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"

"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."

"Smart cookie."

"And a really hot blonde."

"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."

"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2018

Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.

"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."

You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to. 

"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"

"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face. 

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't know."

You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around. 

Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears. 

"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.

"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.

You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back. 

It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.

Natasha's hair has changed again.

"You look good blonde."

That was the last time you saw her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted. 

The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell. 

You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.

Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way. 

Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.

You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this. 

A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through. 

She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.

You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs. 

It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them. 

Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you. 

"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.

Nothing. 

"Nat?" 

Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.

You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."

Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you. 

"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.

There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.

You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?

It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.

"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."

Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."

You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.

The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we can send you a contract—"

"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head. 

He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl. 

He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.

"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"

"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him. 

"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.

"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."

It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks. 

"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."

You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."

"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.

"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."

"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.

"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."

The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.

"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before. 

"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet. 

Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this. 

Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.

"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility. 

During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest. 

"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod. 

There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.

"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from. 

Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.

"Did you eat?" 

Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield. 

You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular. 

"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you." 

Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom. 

It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in. 

"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."

You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.

"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer. 

Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water. 

"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."

It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked. 

You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way. 

"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."

You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly. 

It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll. 

You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.

When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned. 

"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.

Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.

You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor. 

You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water. 

"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.

You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately. 

"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.

Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful. 

"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."

Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away. 

Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet. 

Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—

You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private. 

You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands. 

It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out. 

You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed. 

Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair. 

So delicate. 

When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside. 

"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself. 

You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid. 

"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively. 

Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn. 

"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"

Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling. 

You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."

The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears. 

"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."

You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled. 

"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."

You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha. 

"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."

Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer. 

"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."

"You are."

Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel. 

"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say. 

All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.

[thechekhov]

Alright I know the gag of people asking for spoilers has been run into the ground by this point but I think it’s still funny so here goes:

Hey can you describe the upcoming plot in very specific detail? Actually maybe you could draw it so it’s easier to follow the action. Although drawing and writing all of that at once might be a lot to handle, so you could release it in batches every once in a while instead of all at once. It would be like some sort of webcomic! Then we could read the updates and learn the plot as we get new pages! What a neat concept, am I right?

idk man, that seems like a great concept, but I'm afraid it's a bit far-fetched.

Do you really think anyone would read that? Like, pay attention to the dialogue and understand what the characters are saying? Figure out small bits of foreshadowing in order to theorize effectively about what could happen next? Consider larger themes and put them together with how the characters act to understand the author's intended meaning beyond just the surface-level, at-face-value reading and shallow interpretation of only what is immediately apparent on the page?

It feels like it could be something... but I just don't know.

[xokohaneazusawa]

hello pookie i’m the anon who got injured while playing football during PE!! (update on the injury: it doenst hurt as much anymore, but it’s fucking black?? around the corners?? AM I DYING 💀)

ok but anygays i saw someone else comment on the post who also wanted another part so i can now overcome the guilt of potentially asking for too much and ask for that infirmary part 2 anyways 😍😍 (nvm it’s not working. i still feel bad.)

and ofc i was thinking of the bllk boys during PE we were literally playing football and i was thinking about how funny it would be if i pulled a chigiri and broke my leg right then and there because of how bad i was at it (i’m so sorry.)

fr tho i cannot play for shit 😭 these mfs make it look so damn easy but football is too damn difficult 💀(i don’t exercise. if i have the option to stay at home every day of my life with everything in it and unlimited supply of food and other essentials, i would. i also failed my school’s fitness test and struggle to open bottle caps sometimes.) i’m just a girl 🎀

i don’t mean to be greedy or demanding but an infirmary scene would really heal my soul (and hopefully my nose. i still dk why it’s turning a bit black. 💀 maybe it’s bruising idk 💀)

p.s. i think my nose is fine but idk. it doesn’t feel pain or anything, and the wound is quite inconspicuous. like i have to squint to see it and the weird black parts (haha 400 eye degree 😍)

You never have to feel bad about asking for anything from me, I'm happy to really do whatever lol! I'm actually so excited to write this, I mean it's such a cute idea!!

Chigiri Hyoma

-> Bro fought with the nurses to stay with you, so that man is not leaving your side the whole time you are there. I mean he's sitting next to your bed, or next to you if you're in a chair, and not leaving for anything.. well unless you asked for something, but that's not the point here

✮ - He sighed and watched as they started to take some tissues making sure that the bleeding was stopping, and applying an ice pack on your nose. He laughed slightly when he saw you flinch due to the cold, but made sure to squeeze your hand slightly to show that it would be fine. Once the ice was applied they made you sit and wait for a little, just to help with the healing, and came by every couple minutes at first to make sure that everything was okay and that you weren't getting freezer burn by any chance. The nurses were all really sweet, and Chigiri was making sure you were following what they said, no matter how cold that ice pack was, your ass, was not taking it off around him. Man already has a good track record of listening to what the doctors say, he trusts them, so in due turn you're following everything that they say as well. He sighs when you finally can take off the ice pack and he can already see the bruise forming under the red from the cold.

"Next time make sure you're not in dream land, because I'm gonna be way worse then these people when taking care of your stupid ass."

Rin Itoshi -> He might have left because the nurses told him to go back, but he also might have accidently put somebody else in the infirmary because he wasn't paying attention and went a little too hard on one of the newbies, so he ended up being back after only a couple minutes. Though the second he got back he was sitting next to you and making sure that you were okay, more with his actions then his words

✮ - This man hurried back over to the infirmary, he was almost asked by a couple teachers to slow down on the way there but when they saw he also looked pissed off (It's really just his rbf) they decided to just leave him alone. Assumed he was gonna like murder then if they had said something. The second he got back he rushed over to where you were, immediately asking if you were okay. Though it might not have sounded like he cared, the way that he almost plowed through like 3 teachers on the way here made up for it. The nurses were hella confused but once they saw him sitting right next to you and slightly holding onto your hand making sure they you didn't remove the ice pack, no matter how cold it was, they kinda just aww-ed and continued their work, checking up on you making sure that you didn't accidently get freezer burn and checking for bruising and things like that. He stayed holding your hand the whole time, letting you squeeze his hand whenever they tried to mess with your nose, pushing it around. He sighed when they finally walked away, looking up at you.

"I hope you know that I almost sent another lukewarm player from your team to the infirmary.. never do that shit again."

Nagi Seishiro

-> He will stay with you the whole time, mostly because he was too lazy to go back to class, and the fact that he was really only trying to impress you and since you're not there anymore it didn't matter to him. Though he will make sure to ask every couple minutes if you're okay, even if he looks like he's falling asleep against your shoulder

✮ - Was actually half falling asleep against your shoulder before you had to move him slightly when the nurse gave you an ice pack, which woke him up and that’s when he realized what was actually happening, to which he did end up staying awake to make sure that you were okay. Checking on you every couple minutes with a quick “You good?” or “You’re not dying. Right?”. He’s trying his best, but normally Reo takes care of him, he’s never been on the other side of this. The nurses will always slightly laugh at him, because he looks kinda worried but actually has no idea on what to do to help you. Is the only one who will actually take the ice pack off of you, not because he was trying to prevent healing, but you said your nose was cold and bro just fixed the problem, well that was until you laughed at him and he was hella confused. (please explain to this man about the great thing to athletes and injuries that is an Ice pack). Though he was super sweet other than that and did try to learn a bit and pay attention when the nurse finally let you leave with just some instructions on how to take care of it.

“Next time, just pay attention.. So we don’t have to go through all of this again. How I wished first aid kids that just auto healed worked in real life..”

Bachira Meguru

-> Stayed with you, but he laughed. The whole time. Man has almost been in tears twice sitting next to you, thinking about the way the ball came right in the center of your face and now it's all bruised. The nurses at this point also wanna give him a bruised nose so he can finally shut up

✮ - He was trying to contain his laugh the whole time he walked you there, plus in the office when the nurses were trying to help you, by getting tissues, an ice pack, and possibly some sort of pain medication. You probably have already given this man so many dirty looks and glares, but he just doesn’t seem to care whatsoever. Now, not to get this confused. He is concerned for your safety, but the fact that you got smack dabbed hit in the center of your face with a football is just so freaking funny to him and he’s just watching it over and over in his head. Had it been a whole different injury, one that didn’t look so funny, he would probably be more serious about it, but come on, it was pretty funny. Though, he’s probably also gotten hit a couple times with a ball so he does at least know the basics of making sure that you’re okay. So another one that makes sure that you keep that ice pack on the whole goddamn time, unless obviously, freezer burn. (I’ve had it, it sucks.) Though again, everytime he sees your nose, all red and starting to get bruised he will indeed laugh. But at the end of the day he’ll also be pretty helpful in making sure that it gets better, since his past experiences, if you can deal with the constant teasing.

“Oh come onnnn, It’s pretty funny! I mean how far out were you to get hit in the middle of the god damn face- Oh wait, here I have some bandaids so you can compress it”

Isagi Yoichi

-> Always making sure that you're okay. You move? He's asking. You made a funny face of pain? He's asking. You even looked at him? he's asking. He's really just worried and wants to make sure that you're okay and that it won't be all that bad or anything

✮ - This man has not left your side the whole time you’ve been sitting there. He’s constantly asking and making sure you’re okay and don’t need anything. Not to mention, he’s also been holding your hand the whole time, just in case. The only time he ever lets go is when the nurses come to make sure you’re okay. He’s just being cautious, hey, maybe you’ll need two hands to hold something or whatever. The only time he will keep his hold on you is when they come to move it around to make sure it’s not like broken or anything, then he’ll keep it there so you can squeeze it to deal with the pain, hey, hurt noses are nothing to sneeze at (please somebody laugh at that). Whenever your hand gets tired (or just cold) of holding your ice pack, he’ll take over. He’s just so freaking helpful and all the nurses love him for that. Though being an athlete himself does help a lot, he’s pretty good at knowing how all this stuff works. Checking to make sure that you’re following what the nurses said and making sure that it’s not getting too bad. Though once he sees that it’s all red and stuff he will chuckle a little, as worried as he is.

“Maybe next time you keep your attention on the field and not in whatever world you were in, okay?”

Reo Mikage

-> He was still laughing a little bit, and chuckled when he was reminded of the event, but for the most part was pretty worried about you and made sure that you didn't touch it too much so you didn't accidently hurt it anymore. Like Isagi, he also made sure to ask if you were okay every couple minutes, he just really wants to make sure that it won't cause anything long term.

✮ - He was sitting in the nurse's office with you, making sure that you were okay, asking if you needed anything. Water? To take off the ice pack for a second? Another tissue? He’s got it all covered. I mean he’s been taking care of Nagi for how long, this isn’t all that different. Well besides the fact he also gets a laugh or two out of it. (he won’t actually let out a laugh until you’re leaving the nurse’s office, and when he’s sure that it’s starting to get better). He just thinks it’s a little funny, watching the scene replay in his head of you getting hit in the face with the football. He knows that he shouldn’t laugh at your demise, but you can’t blame him. Though he’ll make sure that you always have everything you need for the next couple weeks, or at least until it’s healed. After the initial injury he might be a little more easy to make laugh, and by that I mean every time he sees your slightly bruised nose he’s letting out a chuckle. Was he worried at first? Yeah. But now he just sees it as a memory of you spacing out at the worst time.

“I know that I look good on the field, but next time pay attention to the flying ball and not at your amazing boyfriend~”

Sae Itoshi

-> Staying with you. No matter what. The nurses most likely hate him at this point, he's silent and he really isn't doing anything besides being next to you. Though, what they don't know is that fact every time he sees you twist with discomfort or make a face he's reaching over to ask if you're okay or you need anything

✮ - The nurses have come over a couple times at this point, once to give you an ice pack, once just to double check that you were okay, and once to give you some pain medication and water. Though on the right side of you, Sae has just been looking over at some of the other patients, and nurses walking around the office. After everytime one of the nurses walks up to you or does anything he will turn his attention back over to you and ask you a quick “you okay.” slightly looking at either your face or body language. If he ever can see that you’re lying to him, good luck to you. He’s an athlete, man has most likely gotten hurt in his career, and he knows lying and saying you’re fine isn’t doing anything, it’s actually most likely making it worse. So in turn he will glare at you until you finally say that you’re not okay. He just wants you to be honest, especially if it hurts and it’s something that can be fixed. Though also with his background he knows how to take care of things like that, and might possibly be the best one to have in this scenario, well if you can deal with him constantly not (facial) showing that he cares.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that. And now you’re being even more stupid, don’t touch it.”

[dedalvs]

ive done a lot of translating to high valyrian in my day and id like to think im pretty good at it sometimes (the way ive spent literal hours researching how just one piece of grammar works to change a noun to an adverb or something is maybe insane)

anyway all that to say i usually know what to look for and how to apply it, but i am struggling with this new bit im trying to translate. “i disdain all glittering gold.”

ive replaced disdain with hate cause there doesnt seem to be a word for disdain in valyrian and hate is the closest approximation. same with glittering — replaced that with shine, and had to manually transform that to an adjective (jehikagon -> jehikere? dunno if its right)

so what i have now is “nyke buqan unir jehikere aeksion”

(im not as concerned with getting the word order right as i am with the rest of the grammar)

ive learned from a previous answer “nyke” is potentially (probably) unnecessary here, so that leaves it as “buqan unir jehikere aeksion,” but the unir there in the middle kinda makes it feel off and im not sure if maybe that also needs to be part of a compound word like valar or how to make it one if so because idk what part of valar is all and what part is men and how to fit aeksion into that equation.

i lost track of what my question was originally meant to be but i guess im wondering if im on the right track and if theres some guidance you may have to get me all the way there.

thank you for your time 🙏

Uhhhhhh... Not to be that dude, but...maybe be more concerned with that...?

I'm not sure if you know about this site, but my wiki is exhaustively updated with respect to High Valyrian, specifically. There's a team of people that work on High Valyrian and it's massive. For example, you could go to the entry for jehikagon and see that jehikere is wrong: it should be jehikare. And, of course, it has to agree with āeksion (note the long ā), so it should be jehikarior. To get the sense of repetitiveness (with "glittering"), you might add ā- to the front, so ājehikarior.

Now for "all", why not use the collective? This is how you get "All men must die", so it should work for "I distain all glittering gold". That would be āeksior. Of course, it would need to be in the accusative, so altogether it would be ājehikarior āeksȳndi. By adding the repetitive you kind of get the aliteration, too, since they both begin with ā.

Finally you have "disdain", for which buqagon serves. Aside from sound a little more posh, the difference between "disdain" and "hate" in English seems to be one of duration. The words "disdain" and "loathe" seem to emphasize that this is a character trait rather than a reaction. If you disdain something, you've given it some thought, have experience with it, and may use this as a way of describing or characterizing yourself. You can do this with "hate" as well, but it's a much more common word, and so can be used in other more basic ways, whereas "disdain" and "loathe" tend to only have specalized uses. To try to approximate this, you could use the frequentative with buqagon to imply a lengthy duration. That would give you jobuqan "I disdain". In fact, you could even use the aorist if you really wanted to imply that it was a description of yourself, i.e. jobuqin.

Now that you have the pieces, though, I really hate to say it, but the words must be in the right order. I mean, you can change the order of the noun and adjective, if you'd like, but you simply cannot put the verb first and think you've created a Valyrian sentence. It's not just "kind of" wrong: it's completely wrong. It'd be like suggesting "I him saw" is close enough in English because the forms are correct. It's not. It's wrong. This is not a minor part of the grammar you can ignore. High Valyrian is aggressively verb-final. The verb must be at the end.

All in all, that gives you:

Ājehikarior āeksȳndi jobuqin.

Hope that helps!

[deeseelovez]

dirty secret

ghostface!regulus black x reader

muggle!au and they are adults with jobs but let's pretend they are on holiday or something.

warnings: smut. sex. I will update it as I go down. dom! regulus and sub! reader. pre-existing consent, dirty talk on the phone, stalking, 'breaking in', knife play (it's fake), degradation and praise, a lil ass play, some spanking, over-stimulation, face-fucking, hair-yanking, reading links his body, face-sitting, and I think man-handling? squiriting.

(just as a pre-thing so I can get right into it, Regulus and the reader talked about her obsession and kink about being stalked and hunted by the killer, Ghostface; he is surprised but is willing to try anything. He refers to the reader as 'boyfriend', it's regulus, but idk thought it was hot.)

This might be the worst or best thing I've ever written.

4.1k words

~~~~~

The summer nights slowly turned into autumn breeze. I always liked having the door open, and the screen door closed when the autumn weather started in London. 

It's a cloudy evening, but it still felt good enough to have the door open, I sat in my living room sipping on a cup of tea in my loungewear. 

When the phone rang, I picked up the white home phone and held up to my ear. 

"Black Residents," I say into the phone. 

"Who is this?" A dark voice said over the phone, I don't recognize.

"Uh, who are you? You're the one who called me." I say into the phone, "No one there?" I say into the phone slamming onto the stand for it and not even a full minute later, it rings again. 

"Hello?" I say again into the phone and I heard deep breathing. 

"Guess I dialed the wrong number," The voice says with a breathy chuckle.

"So, why did you do it again," I say. 

"To apologize of course," 

"Well, you're forgiven." I say to the disembodied voice, I go to hang up again, but I hear a sharp, "Wait!" 

"Yes?" 

"I want to talk to you," Says the deep voice; I could feel a shiver of interest go down my spine, "Don't you wanna talk to me?" 

"I don't know who you are?" 

"Is this too scary for you, talking to a stranger?" The stranger asks. 

"I'm not scared," I say. 

"I'd really like to get to know you." He says to me, but there is change in his voice, "When do you think your boufriend will be back." 

"Who says I have a boyfriend?' 

"Well, I've been watching your house for at least a day and a half and he hasn't been back." 

"W-what?" I felt my chest heaving.

"Don't be scared, pretty thing." I could feel fear and pleasure both making themselves down my body, "I don't want to harm you, just want to talk, you look out breath, princess. How about you take a few deep brea-"

But out of instinct, I slam the phone down and get up to close the front door and lock it. 

The ringing started again, it felt louder this time more ominous. It filled the whole house, I walk over to the phone. 

"You listen to me, you slut; if you hang up this phone again, I will cut you come clit to brain" He groans into the phone, and I sit down on the coach, "Are you scared, now?" 

"M-maybe?" 

"I can see you shaking, sweetheart. Don't worry; I want to play a little game with you. Do you like games?" 

I swaollowed the lump in my throat, "Yes," 

"Yes, what?" 

"Yes, sir." I squicked out

"Good girl," He says into the phone, another deep breath, "God, I can practically smell your cunt from here. Are you dripping right now? Do you like being scared?"

"Yes, sir," I say, I stand up, putting the phone between my shoulder and chin to keep held upright, 

"If you get these questions right, I'll let you touch yourself. Or maybe I'll have to give you a special gift. " I stood in front of my coach, in front of my back door, that is still wide open. I slowly take off my sweatpants. 

"Oh, you're not wearing any panties." He says, and I turn around spanking my own ass as I pull the rest of my sweatpants off. 

"I have the perfect view of your pretty pussy," He says, "I want you to sit on your couch with your feet up and knees spread, showing me how wet you are." 

I did as he told me to do, I can't say no to a man on the phone watching me, I dipped my finger into my pussy. 

"No!" He screamed, "Not until I tell you can, unless you want me to come in there, and cut that pretty finger off." 

"What's the name of the girl who gets killed first in Scream?" 

"Casey Becker,"

"That's my good whore," He says. 

"Can I touch myself now?" I ask and he laughs. 

"You have to answer all the of them silly girl," He says, but I could feel myself growing more needy as he talks into the phone. 

"Okay, please," I whine into the phone. 

"I can't believe this wet for a stranger on the phone, so pathetic, if you're pussy wasn't so pretty, I'd have to gut you for being so pathetic." He laughs into the phone as I let out another whine, "Tell me, what line did Jack Nicholson improve in The Shining." 

"Here's Johnny," I say into the phoen breathlessly, 

"Good, just one more question, and you get a special reward." 

"What's the next question," 

"Sometimes, getting ahead of themselves, don't you think so, Angel?" The nickname made me moan into the phone. 

"Please," Is all the words coming out of my mouth and he asked the last question, but I didn't even hear them, I was too focused on the pleasure. 

"10," He started to count down, for me to answer the question. 

"Wh-what was the question?" I asked again, 

"Should have listened the first time; see you soon," The line disconnected, and I heard rustling outside, I heard the porch door swing open, and I close my knees together and sit up. 

"Hey, there," Says the dark voice from the phone, and I nearly let out a scream, "Sh, don't scream, pretty thing." I could see the glimmer of the metal knife in his gloved hand, the plastic of his mask reflecting on the Halloween lights me and my boyfriend had put up, "Who told you you could move?" He asked me; he threw up the screen door and slammed the main door closed. 

"Get up, now." I did as he told. 

"Pretty fucking girl," He growls from underneath his mask, "You're perfect." He says, he lifts up the steel knife, and my eyes go down to it, "Do you know what this is?" 

"A dagger," I replied, looking up at him, I wanted nothing more than Ghostface to manhandle me, to fuck me from behind, to put the knife against me. 

He lifted up the knife and put it against my pudgy stomach, "You're smart girl, you know if I wanted," He moved the cold steel a little rougher against me, "I could get you right now and leave before your little boyfriend gets back, or maybe I'll hide in the closet for him and gut him too." I whimper and move ever slightly against the knife, and I feel the knife cut into my skin just a little, the sting making me moan. 

"Oh, look at that." He lifts up the knife to his mask, and he takes off it off just enough to expose his mouth and he licks it over the dagger, and if I wasn't wet before I definitely am now, "God, you're so pathetic." 

Tears are streaming done my face as he moves the knife around my boob, the cold steel pressing against my nipples, "You're a slut, getting so wet from a stranger who broke into your home. God, pathetic whores make me so horny. Do you want feel my cock?" 

"Mhm," I say, looking up and nodding my head, and I moan as the knife rubs against my nipple, 

"Be quiet," He warns; he grabs my hand and puts my hand on his rock-hard cock, "You know, I've been watching you for a while," He says, whispering into my ear, "I know how your boyfriend fucks you. I know he's too soft for you," His gloved hands are now twisting my nipples, the knife thrown on the coffee table with a large crash, "You want someone to be rough with you? Does he even make you cum? Be honest." My eyes are down looking at his hands, but they quickly move up, grabbing a hold of my hair and making him look at him. 

"I asked you a question, Y/n." 

"No, he doesn't." He makes a tsk tsk noise. 

"Pretty girls deserved to cum; they deserved to be fucked how they want." I let out a moan and I could hear a chuckle. 

"God, I love pinching your nipples. You've got such big titties." He says, 

"Thank you," 

"Do you like a stranger playing with your nipples, whore?" 

"Yes, Mister. Ghostface." I said, and I could feel the twitch in his cock at the name. 

"Oh, fuck." He moaned, trying to hold back, taking a deep breath, and that's when he pushed his fingers inside my pussy, and I moaned loudly, "Shhh, you don't want the neightbors to hear do you? God, you're so fucking wet," 

"For you," I say. 

"Shut the fuck up, whore. You don't get to talk, or I'll get my knife out." He turns me around, and he shoves his leathered fingers inside of me again, his rough thumb dragging circles. 

"Keep quiet, little girl. You don't want the neighbors to tell your boyfriend about your stranger, do ya?: 

I leaned forward against the sofa, "Answer me," He said, his hand coming off her clit, the soft fabric of his cloak against my bare back, his rough gloved hand going to my throat. 

"No, I don't, Sir." His hand squeeze my throat, his breath againest my ear. 

"Good fucking girl," He quickly moved away from my body, and his hand slapped my ass, "God, I love your ass. It's fucking perfect." I felt his hands go down my back to caress my ass; I felt teeth and salvia on my ass cheek. His hands spread my cheeks exposing myself to him. 

"God, damn." I felt warm liquid hit my asshole and go to my clit, "I've been watching you for a week," He says, I hear the ripping off the Valco of his gloves, and I feel his thumb circle my asshole, and it goes down my vagina, "I've been dreaming about this sweet ass, jerking off to you from your window," His bare slender fingers are inside of my now while his still gloved still rubs my clit, a harsh breath comes in, "I saw you last night, you dirty girl, I watched you dip your fingers in this sweet pussy, you left the curtains open. Did you want me to see? Could you feel my eyes watching you? I could see you twist your pretty, perky nipples, biting those perfect lips of yours; I saw your eyes roll back in your head when you were cumming." I whined, letting out a whisper of 'please,' "I wonder what your pretty pussy tastes, but it feels amazing wrapped around my bare fingers. so, tight," 

"Your fingers feel so good," I moan out, I push my body agaienst his fingers wanting him to faster than his painfully slow pace. 

"Hold still," He says to me, and he pushed his fingers deep inside me making a scissor movement, and I let out a loud moan. 

"God, your moans are even better than I imagined. But remember, baby, you got to be quiet." I moaned, as his his finger on my clit went down harder and I let out a whine. 

"Please, please, please." She says. 

"What do you want? Tell me? Use your words, you pretty thing." 

"Want-want to cum. Please, I'm so close. God, please, sir. Please." There's a low laugh; he pumps his fingers in faster and his thumb went around my clit in a delicate circle that felt delicious. 

"cum on my fingers, pretty thing. I want to taste your cum on my fingers. Be my good girl."

"Yes, Mister. Ghostface. Yes, sir." With those words streaming out of my mouth, I felt the cord snap and the orgasm rolled over me, and I let out a low moan, shoving my face into the couch cushions. 

I felt him put his hands around my waist and pull me to my knees in front of him, I watched as he pulled the mask just above his chin to expose his mouth, he pulls his fingers into his mouth sucks on them. 

"You taste so fucking good," He says, I watch him lick his lips, I put my hand to his dick; it was hard as a rock inside of pants under his cloak. 

"Someone is being needy," He says with a low chuckle; he takes his hands and rips the cloak off his body to reveal his pale skin, his happy trail on his stomach leading down to his v-line; I wanted to run my tongue down his lengthy body. 

"You're drooling," Ghostface laughs as he rubs his thumb on my lip, and he grabs under my arms, lifting me up, his mask still pulled up enough for his lips to be out and he pulls me forward, yanking my head back, with a fistful of my hair, and I yelp as he sticks his tongue in my mouth, kissing me passionately. 

"What do you want, baby?" He says, pulling away from me. 

"I want to kiss and lick your body," I say with a blush, feeling dirty for saying this about a man I didn't even know. 

"Don't get embarrassed now, doll." With a smirk on his pretty pink lips, he says, "Your body belongs to me, now and mine belongs to yours. Do what you like, dirty girl." 

I kiss his lips again, my hands going around his torso, my clit still burning from pleasure from my orgasm but it's begging for another one. 

"Don't forget who's in charge here," He says, his hands hard on jaw. 

"You're in charge," I say, my eyes staring up into the black open spaces where his eyes are behind the permanent screaming mask. I go to his neck, place an open-mouth kiss on his neck, suck harshly, and I hear the low groan that comes out, his fingers kneading my asscheeks. As I went to his chest, leaving hickeys on his pecks and on his soft stomach. I go on my knees, I lick his v-line, lick on the belt holding up his dark jeans, and I let my hand move against his hard cock that is straining his jeans. 

"May I?" I say looking up, my hand still going over the outline. 

"Good girl, asking for permission first. Go on," He says, and I fumble with the belt, loosening and undoing it, and I pull down his jeans and his plaid boxers and his cock springing out. 

He had such a pretty cock; the tip was as pink as his lips and he had a long vein twisting around it. 

“Don’t be afraid, baby. It’s just a cock,” He says, he grabs my hair signally for me to suck, but I just pull my tongue out and drag it along the vein, I go to the tip and I lick around it, and I wrap my lips around the tip, and that’s when he thrusts inside my mouth hitting the back of my throat.  

“God damn,” He moans out, and he holds my face now, and I look up at him and he thrusts himself inside my mouth again, and again, “Your mouth feels so good but I wonder what your pussy feels like,”  

And he drags his cock out of me, steps out of his pants and he pulls up and throws me against the coach with my ass up, and he slams his hand down again. 

“Don’t look back here,” He says and I do as he says and I just arch my back and this time, I feel his mouth against my pussy, and I see his mask on the floor but I don’t dare look at him scared that his tongue would stop and this slice of heaven I was in would stop.  

His tongue goes in and out out of my tight hole, suddenly he stops, and she could feel his tongue going inside and out of her asshole, his fingers going to work still on her pussy, and the only sound in the room is the sound of my whines, thanking him for his tongue, and the slurps and sounds of my wet pussy.  

His mouth went back to my tongue, “God, I need you to ride my face.” He put his hands on my  hips, “Close your eyes,” He said and I did as he said, and I heard rustling, and I felt me moving. I opened my eyes, and I saw his cock standing up proud and tall as I sat on his face. 

My clit on his strong chin, “ Move your hips, baby. Ride my face, like you’re going to ride my cock.” 

“I want you inside of me,” I whine wanting nothing more than his cock inside of me but he shakes his head. 

“Cum on my face, and then I’ll give you my cock.” He said and I did as he said, I bucked my hips across his face. His tongue entered my pussy as I rock harder against his face, I wanted to yank on his hair. I couldn’t see what color it was but I imagined it dark with curls falling down on his face. 

God, I wanted to see his whole face. I wanted to see the killer I was currently riding on. I wanted to see more just his strong chin, his plump lips, I wanted to know this stranger. 

I felt his hands on my hips pushing me down father onto his face that was hovering over. 

“Are you close?” He hummed which made me let out a hiss of pleasure and I nodded. 

“Yes.” I reply, and that’s when I felt a harsh suck to my clit made me recoil, but his hips keeping down, and his tongue going in and out of my hole and it switches between sucking and licking, and that’s when I felt a fiery release, my second orgasm hit me and I moaned loudly but that;s what earned me a harsh slap on my ass. 

“You’re going to leave a mark,” I warned him. 

“Too fucking bad. I want you to keep me like a dirty secret.” He moves me off me and grabs his mask repositioning on his face and turns me to him, we were both now completely bare, naked with each other beside the mask covering his identity, “I want you to have to hide your body because of how ashamed you are of fucking a killer, because you fucked a stranger over your boyfriend.” His hands went down my body, his cock making contact with my thigh as his. 

His hands went to my shoulders, his index and pointer finger smooth across my skin leaving a lane of fire on me as he went down, I could feel the ache of my clit but I didn’t care, I wanted him inside of me, I wanted to feel him, and I wanted to be consumed with just him.  

“Can I ride your cock now?” I ask again looking up into the darkness where his eyes were, and he nods. 

And he gets up on the coach, and he pulls me up there with me, his knife in his hand, “Get on with it,” He says, almost with a bored tone and I pout as I climb on his lap. 

“Look more happy baby, you get what you want now, right? My cock.” He says, he puts the cold blade to my throat as I sit on him, I could feel my pussy stretch to the size of his cock, and I bottomed out, my pussy is slick from my two previous orgasm and the burn of my clit between my legs. 

“Move,” He says, the knife to my throat as I start to move up and down on his cock, his other hand went to my hip helping me with my movements, the knife only made me more wet, the danger of it all, in one moment he could slice my throat. 

I try to go faster but he didn’t let me, only letting me move at agonist pace, and I could feel his cock squirm inside of me and the low groans he tried to keep in were seeping out of his mask. 

“God, you feel good, mister. Ghostface.” I say, I put my hand on his shoulder, and I could feel his hair against my fingers and I wanted to grab a fistful, and yank on it as I rode him, but he moved the knife closer to my throat. 

“Fuck me like it’s the last think you’ll do,” He says in a nearly threatening tone, and he moves his hand from my waist, and I put my other hand on his shoulders and I lift myself off his cock and slam myself back on it, and I did it again, and then I thrust myself on his cock, and I could hear his moans. 

“God fucking-” He hisses, and that’s when he grabs a fistful of my hair, and my motions comes to a stop and now his hips were the ones going up and down, he held my waist with other hands, and I could feel his cock go up an down inside of me, his balls slapping against my ass, I thrust my hips as he fucks me this way, and I stick my hand in between playing with my clit. 

I could feel the pain of another orgasm coming, “I’m gonna cum.” I warn him and he shrugs. 

“Do it,” were his only words and that’s the only thing I needed and I came, collapsing on top of him. My record was three, anymore and I becoming a braindead fuck doll as my boyfriend call me. 

“Come on, I know you got at least two more in you, doll.” His voice darkened at the nickname like he knew what I was thinking and I heard his chuckle, “Come on, you’re not stupid.” He says, and I felt his lips move against my head through the mask, such an odd feeling of the fabric on my bare skin. 

His cock started thrusting inside of me, “Get on your back, you stupid slut.” He said and I did as he told, limping over onto my back, and that’s when he pulled me to the edge of the coach, spreading my legs apart, and putting his cock inside of me, his hand went out my nipples, playing and twisting with them. 

I just let my moans out, letting the whispers of please, and felt good just mumbling and not even being able to form a sentence, just letting myself come to the pleasure of the cock of the Mister. Ghostface in front of me. I put my hand out and started to play with his balls. 

“You’re such a dumb slut, just want my cum, don’t you.” 

“Yes, please.” I say with a nodd. 

“You know what I want?” I look up at him. 

“I want you to cum two more times,” And I nodd. 

“Tell me what you want,” He asks me and I grab his hand that is on one of my legs and move in between my legs and I moan as he starts to play with my clit, and he shoves his cock inside of me even harder. 

“Faster,” I ask and he moves quickly inside and out of me, thrusting harder, and I feel the pain in my stomach, and I wrap my legs around his waist to push him closer to me and I moan loudly. 

I felt a slap to my nipple, and a pinch of my clit, and a few sluts and I came again with no warning, but that’s when I felt like everywhere he was touching me was on fire. 

He slapped my nipple again and twisted it, and I let out out moan and I could feel another orgasm bubbling inside of me as his thrusts became sloppy and his breathing became deeping and his moans come right after the other.  

“I’m going to cum. Where do you want the cum?” 

“Inside of me, please. Please, cum inside me.” 

“I can do that, baby. Cum with me please?” He asks and I nodd, and I let out go, and everything felt it was escaping from inside me and it felt wet, the coach felt wet under my ass, and I could see water droplets on his body. 

“Did I pee?” I ask and he shakes his head, pulling his face underneath the mask showing the beautiful face of Regulus Black. 

“You're squirting,” He goes down and licks up the moisture on my thighs, “God, it tastes so good.” 

“You did so good, baby,” I tell him, my hands going to his curls. 

“It was very hot I have to admit, don;t think you’ve been that wet before.” He winks. 

“Let’s go take a bath?” I ask and he nods, wrapping an arm around me and he takes me to the bathroom.

[tinystepsforward]

i've still been keeping tabs on what's happening at automattic. a couple of things i've observed:

toni schneider (who is a man btw), the interim ceo, has been quite open with staff in ways that mean they generally seem relieved to have him leading the company for now. i've heard people speak optimistically about him from all parts of the spectrum (by which i mean: staff who are trans tumblr users right through to staff who are "anti-woke" or whatever and were absolutely intolerable to work with as a trans person), which seems like... a good sign? maybe.

this relative transparency includes things like weekly updates from an executive level, as well as openly saying that he did have to directly speak to matt and encourage him to, you know, stop posting.

matt is back to his usual milquetoast blogging, and replied to someone on mastodon about the AI issue saying he'd comment on it when he's back in may, so whatever toni said to him seems to have worked for him keeping out of it for now.

people have no idea what it's gonna look like when matt's back.

the best case scenario is that schneider manages to create a significant enough boost in morale and productivity that "it'd be nice if we just kept him" becomes a sentiment that isn't held just by the rank and file. i don't know how likely that is, but there's a sense of cautious hope and of making the most of this reprieve from matt's increasingly erratic decisions no matter what.

the tumblr staff statement was approved by schneider and hr, so i am also hopeful they won't face repercussions. what they said might seem pretty mild from the outside, or carefully worded, but it's pretty clear to me and to most people who've worked at companies like this that it's a pretty bold one.

i'll quote a friend:

keep reminding the more histrionic elements out there that: 1. there really are trans people, INCLUDING TRANS WOMEN, in the fight here. 2. we don't have nearly the power they seem to think we do. 3. we're fighting anyway. was the statement we wrote enough? fuck no. does it fix everything? fuck no. but we literally called out the CEO, and got the greenlight for it from the interim CEO. i don't know where this will end, but that's not nothing.

i'm not sure automattic deserves the immense honor of having this many of its brave, dedicated trans staff put effort into trying to make it better. but it has them, and it would be wise to do its best to keep them. so many of us — even me, even now — believe in the ideals that drew us to the work automattic does, and hope that it can return to them. we will see!

other things i want to say:

the wellbeing of my friends on staff is my priority. i am interested primarily in their safety, and won't pressure them to give me goss. the ways i've spoken publicly are already pretty scary to people who might worry about retaliation against them just for being known to be my friend.

this is a regular personal blog. i'll keep updating if there's shit to update about, but i also don't work at automattic any more (thank fuck, again), have a life, and am not interested in declaring matt my specific nemesis or otherwise acting purely out of spite.

some of youse really deeply do not understand companies, the internet, generative ai, or pretty much anything else i've said. that's okay — big tech in particular is fucked up on purpose bc it benefits those in power to have it be incomprehensible! but maybe it's not a great position from which to get mad at me specifically or at staff for idk not personally assassinating matt.

got tired of blocking transphobes so i've turned anons off. i'll probably flick them back on eventually.

[slightlymediocree]

☆Update 2:☆

I remembered to take pics today! Sort of. Only after i had put away my machines and stuff...

Here are (most) of my edwardian undergarments

(i am wearing modern clothes under bcs the internet is weird)

Chemise, bustle pad, underbust corset, petticoat

I still need to make a corset cover someday, ive just been using a second thin chemise over all this:

I used these vintage buttons on the cuffs. I wanted some more security but ran out of buttons so i used small snaps:

Also put one on the collar so i could try it on. I think the placket at the back of the blouse is a little ugly and larger than ive seen in extant garments but i forgot to adjust the pattern for my broad shoulders and need the extra width for comfort.

I tried on the blouse and skirt together:

I may need to loosen the waistband of the skirt, the corset is a bit bulkier than i thought itd be. Also the blouse is just stuffed into the skirt and currently only has one closure on at the collar so it looks a little bit disproportionate. The belt/sash will help smooth everything out so i dont look like im drowning in voile.

I might go without the bustle pad during the final shoot because i think it gives too much volume in the waist/hip area for edwardian tastes. Its from an 1890s pattern, so the silhouette is a bit out of date. I should probably try the skirt on without the pad before extending the waistband though.

Im pretty happy with how the sleeves turned out! I have some vintage nottingham lace i bought on etsy from penelope textiles that i was going to add to another project. I think ill sew some different laces together and add it to the cuffs to elongate them a bit. Since this dress is supposed to be from roughly 1905, i want the sleeves to look as they wouldve in that time. The photos ive seen mostly feature large ruffles at the ends of elbow-length sleeves but i dont think ill be likely to wear ruffles very often. Ive also seen tighter cuffs that extend from the elbow to mid-forearm or from the elbow to wrist. I think the elbow-length sleeves are a feature of afternoon dresses but i could be wrong. Maybe that was just day dresses? Not sure.

Im also not sure if i want to get gloves/a hat/parasol for this project. On one hand, it would look really cool for the video. On the other hand, it sounds quite expensive and i doubt ill wear it again. I dont want to buy things i wont use and create waste, theres enough of that in fashion. I have a pink 1900s parasol that i might cover with black fabric, but idk.

There isnt much left to do! Im gonna make a list here so i have it written somewhere:

-sew snaps onto blouse

-finish blouse hem

-attatch lace cuffs

-press pleats on sash/belt

-order synthetic whalebones

-add bones, hook/bars to belt

This is just the sewing tasks though, i need to edit the video clips and record audio. I have no idea how to do any of this. I just downloaded davinci video editor so hopefully i can figure it out. The only experience i have with video making/editing was in 3rd grade on ipads on the imovie app. Ive just been binge watching bernadette banner videos bcs i love her video style.

Any tips/feedback are much appreciated! ♡

Date: 4/22/24

[bearr02]

Safe and sound |Chapter Ten|

Pairing: Hybrid!ot7 x f!reader

Chapter warnings: maybe a bit angsty, Kook cries, plus this chapter is unedited so like idk if it will be good 🙃

Summary: You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.

Genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to friends to lovers au

Word count: 1.9k

Member’s hybrid types: Namjoon: Bear, Yoongi: Bobcat, Hoseok: Ferret, Jin: Wolf, Jimin: Red panda, Jungkook: Bunny, Taehyung: Marble fox

A/n: so like yeah, sorry this took so long from my last update but I at least got it out so that’s good

I’ve just been pretty busy and haven’t had time to myself to sit down and write for a bit beside a few words here and there

I know I got a teaser out but that was an idea I couldn’t pass up (same with that story idea) and like I didn’t wanna forget it, so I put my things to the side for a minute to do those so yeah

Last - Next - Masterlist

It took Jungkook a while to calm down, but he eventually did. He eventually fell asleep on you, the exhaustion of crying catching up to him. “Do you want me to move him?” Hoseok asks, sitting on the bed beside you and Jungkook. “Please.” You whine, your bladder painfully full. Hoseok chuckles, sliding his arms between yours and Jungkook’s body’s, lifting the hybrid from you, laying him on the bed. You almost cry out in relief, pushing yourself off your bed to rush to the bathroom.

—

You shut the door behind you with a content sigh, Hoseok laughing at your state. “I’m guessing you really had to pee?” He asks through his laugh. You nod, walking over to the bed before falling fast first on it beside Hoseok. “Will..Kook be okay?” You ask, turning your head toward Hoseok. “He should be.” Hoseok mumbles with a nod, carding his fingers through said hybrid's hair. “I think he’ll be better now that we’re with you. Safe.” Hoseok mumbles.

You smile, “Good.” You mumble, shuffling up to lay your head on your pillow, flipping onto your back.

“‘M gonna go to sleep.” You say with a sigh, snuggling up to Hoseok as your eyes slide shut. “Sleep tight, Y/n.” Hoseok mumbles, wrapping an arm around you as he gets comfortable.

Before you know it, you're drifting off to the sound of Hoseok's steady heartbeat.

—

You groan, reaching up to hold your pillow in place. But what you grab isn’t your pillow. You crack your eyes open, looking up to see Jungkook’s face, eyes closed as he dreams. You shrug slightly, wrapping your arms around his body, snuggling into him before drifting back to sleep.

—

This time, when you wake up, it’s because of your alarm. You whine, reaching over to turn it off. “Y/n?” Jungkook grumbles, shifting beneath you. “Sorry, Koo, didn’t mean to wake you. I gotta head into work.” You say, pushing yourself off his chest. “Work?” Hoseok grumbles, sitting up on the other side of Jungkook. You hum, getting out of bed while stretching. “You just got hurt yesterday, Y/n. You’re not going into work.” Hoseok says, voice groggy with sleep. “I’ll be fine.” You say, making your way to your closet to grab clothes.

“I don’t trust you.” Hoseok mumbles, rubbing his eyes. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ll be fine, Hobi.” You say, shuffling through your shirts.

You grab a plain, white knit sweater and baggy jeans, walking out of your closet. “Do you have to go?” Jungkook asks through a whine, now sitting on the edge of your bed. “I’m sorry, Koo, but I do.” You say, ruffling his hair on your way to your bathroom. “But why? Can’t you take a day off? They know you got hurt!” Jungkook whines, wiggling on the bed as he speaks making you smile. “I’ll be fine, if they send me home I’ll come back, okay?” You say, walking back over to cup his face in your hands.

He pouts up at you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close enough for him to nuzzle into your stomach. “Just stay..please?” Jungkook whispers, a small whine escaping him as he presses himself impossibly closer. “I can’t Bun, I’m sorry.” You say, carding your finger through his hair. Jungkook whines.

Then you feel something wet seep through your sweater onto your stomach.

“Kook?” You call out, trying to pull his head away from your stomach. He fights you with another whine, shaking his head. “Don’t wan’ you to leave.” Jungkook whispers.

You sigh, moving to kneel on the floor. Jungkook whines louder at the movement, trying to keep you upright. He fails in the end, covering his eyes with his ears. “Bun I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be back before you know it.” You whisper, carding your hand through his hair to the best of your ability. “Please stay.” He whispers, a small whimper escaping him. You sigh, mumbling a small ‘okay’ before you stand up, kissing the top of his head before picking your phone up from the nightstand. You scroll through your contacts until you find Mr. Duboses.

“Thank you.” Jungkook whispers, hugging you from behind. You hum, patting his arm with a smile.

—

Mr. Dubose didn’t fight you on wanting to call out, saying it was for the best incase you had any issues. Jungkook was elated that you called out for him, snuggling up to you as soon as you laid back down. Hoseok was happy as well, saying you shouldn’t be going into work anyway, and that it’s best you called out. He was pretty much already asleep when you laid back down, missing out on the cuddle session Jungkook started.

“Thank you for staying home.” Jungkook mumbles for the hundredth time, scenting your shoulder. You hum, carding your fingers through his hair as you scroll through TikTok. “Really.” Jungkook mumbles again, “I was just worried about you.” He whispers. You frown when you feel something wet hit your shoulder. “Bun?” You call out, leaning your head on Jungkook’s.

He whimpers, pushing himself closer to you. He mumbles something you can’t quite pick up, his lips moving against your neck the only proof he said something. “I can’t hear you, Koo.” You say, trying to move his head from your neck. He whines but moves back, ears shielding his eyes. “Didn’t wan’ something to happen to you.” He admits in a whisper, before a huff of air escapes him and he frustratedly wipes his eyes. “‘M sorry, I dunno why ‘m crying.” He says through a scoff, sitting back on his heels.

“Kook, no. You’re fine. If you cry, you cry. You can’t control that.” You say, sitting up as well. “But I can.” He insists, sobbing into his hands. You frown, pulling him back into your arms. He goes limp against you, hiding his face in your neck. “Jungkook?” Hoseok's groggy voice asks, sitting up in bed as he rubs his eyes. He only gets a whimper in response from Jungkook. “‘S he okay?” Hoseok asks, scooting closer. “I don’t know.” You say through a sigh, leaning your head onto Jungkook’s.

“Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, running his hand through Jungkook’s hair. “What’s the matter, Bun?” Hoseok asks, trying to pull him away from your body. He fights Hoseok with a whimper, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Bun, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, his brows furrowing in concern as he runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair again. “‘M weak.” Jungkook whimpers, moving his head so you and Hoseok can hear him clearer.

You look at Hoseok with furrowed brows, “You’re not weak, Bun.” You say, kissing the side of Jungkook’s head. Jungkook shakes his head, mumbling a small “I am” into your neck. “For crying? Bun, everyone cries. Even the toughest people cry.” You say. Jungkook pulls his head back to look at you. “Really?” He asks, sniffling. “Really.” You say, smiling at him reassuringly. He nods, wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand. “Thank you.” Jungkook mumbles, looking at you through teary eyes. “For what?” You ask, carding your hands through his hair. “Comforting me.” He says, looking down as he nervously plays with his hands. “You don’t need to thank me for that, Bun.” You say with a smile, ruffling his hair making him whine, batting away your hand with a small, shy giggle.

Hoseok smiles at the interaction, leaning back on his hands.

—

After the situation with Jungkook passed fully, no more tears slipping from his eyes and no more sniffles, you offered to run him a bath in hopes it will make him feel a bit better.

“I think Jungkook is happier here with you.” Hoseok says, leaning on the counter as he watches you make breakfast. “Really?” You ask, glancing behind you at Hoseok with a smile. “Yeah. I haven’t seen him smile as much in the last few years as he has the past day.” He says, smiling. “That’s good to hear. He was starting to worry me. I wanna make that man who had you before suffer. In more ways than one.” You say, a huff of air escaping your lips as you pout angrily.

“At least we have you. We thought we’d be stuck with that dickhead forever.” Hoseok says, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “True.” You mumble, leaning your head against his. “I’m happy we found you. We missed you so much.” Hoseok mumbles, scenting your shoulder lightly. “I am too.” You say, a smile appearing on your lips.

“I smell food.” Jungkook says, walking down the hallway. You laugh, shaking your head as you flip over the pancake. “I swear you’re always summoned by the smell of food.” You say, glancing at Jungkook. He whines, pouting at you as he comes closer, holding his brace in his free hand. “Can you help me? I dunno how to get this on..” He asks, holding it out in front of him. You hum, making sure to shuffle you and Hoseok a bit away from the stove before turning to Jungkook. You take the brace from him, gently taking his injured arm in your hand, slowly pushing it into the brace.

You gently pat his uninjured arm once you have it on, turning to continue to make breakfast.

—

“Thank you, Y/nie.” Jungkook says through his pancake-full mouth. You hum, popping a piece of your own pancake into your mouth. “This is really good.” Hoseok says, practically stuffing his face. “Thank you.” You say with a smile, popping a blueberry into your mouth. “What do you say we go shopping today? You guys are gonna need clothes and necessities.” You say, looking up at Jungkook and Hoseok. “You don’t have to buy us anything, we can always try and go look around for clothes.” Hoseok says nonchalantly, shrugging. Your brows furrow, “What do you mean? Of course I’m gonna buy you both clothes.” You say, looking between the two.

“We’re used to scavenging for clothes, it won’t be anything new.” Hoseok mumbles, poking at his food. “Yeah but you’re with me now. And I have enough money to get you guys things before you even say anything about that.” You say, noticing the look on their faces. “You don’t have to.” Jungkook mumbles, poking at his food as well. “But I want to. You’re my boys now and I gotta take care of you.” You say, missing the blush that dusts both of their cheeks as you look back at your food to cut a piece off.

“We’re older than you though, if anything we should take care of you.” Hoseok says, looking up at you. “Yeah yeah, but as much as it fucking sucks, I get more rights. Besides, Kook is still a baby in my eyes.” You say with a shrug, looking back up at the two hybrids across from you. “Hey. I’m 3 years older than you.” Jungkook whines with a pout. “2 and a few months.” You say cheekily, smiling at him. He grumbles a ‘whatever’ as he goes back to eating his food. “You’re still a baby in my eyes too, Kook.” Hoseok says, continuing to eat his pancakes.

Jungkook whines, “You’re both picking on me!” He says, wiggling in his seat as he speaks, making both you and Hoseok laugh. “Nah, we’re just agreeing you’re adorable.” You tease, making him whine louder if possible. “I am not.” Jungkook grumbles, pouting. “Sure Kook, sure.” You say with a shake of your head and a smile.

Last - Next - Masterlist

A/n: I hope this chapter was good, cause like I said it’s unedited so it might be so-so but y’know

Series taglist (open):

@blancflms @dreamerwasfound @pettyandprettyy @watermelon2319 @yoongistangerine @danielle143 @canarystwin @catlove83 @joonie-tunes @staygirl1986 @singukieee

@juju-227592 @bangtan4everr @revnamjinn @anjoellamorte

@jewishmommy @talyaaas-blog @btskzfav

Permanent taglist (open):

@viankiss @lizzymizzy-blogg @teddymoon06 @rln-byg @skyys-universe

If your name is highlighted in bold you could not be tagged!

[cupcakeslushie]

sorry for nagging you but i wanted to ask if you have some tips on making comics. I’ve trying making many comics but i always lose motivation and can’t seem to get past even the first panel sometimes.

I did make a pretty long post here, with some advice for starting out! But that’s more technical I guess, and it sounds like maybe you’re looking for some motivational advice? So in addition to that post, I’d say…

Don’t look at these panels where you’re stuck as failures. Look at them, instead, as first drafts!! Keep the early planning stages loose, so it doesn’t feel like an arrow to the heart if you have to make changes. Many artists need to see their thoughts collected somewhere before they can refine things and move on to the next stage. Another big thing is learning to be okay with throwing those drafts away when they become more of a roadblock than a step towards that awesome, final version you’ve got knocking around in your head.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve spent an hour plotting the composition of a panel…or maybe I’ve gotten too focused on the little details of a character’s expression, but the rest of the shot has just….idk died. I’ll copy and paste what I did like, and delete what’s not working or I’ll completely start over, no fuss. Wipe my hands of it and refuse to look at it as a failure. If I drew it once, I can draw it again! Practice isn’t time wasted, it’s time invested into growing! Drawing is drawing!

It’s always good to look back at your work, so you can see your improvement, but only focusing on your unfinished pieces might be doing more harm than good.

And maybe, you don’t have to draw a full 10 page comic from the get go! Try experimenting with shorter form comics! You can tell quite a number of stories in just a few panels! Learning the ins and outs of something new is a lot easier to accomplish when it’s done in smaller increments. That way you can have that feeling of success more often and it’ll motivate you into not giving up!

When I started EW, I was doing parts in like, one or two pages! Because I was still nailing down the comic techniques I wanted to employ. I was gathering brushes and learning how and when to use them! Learning how to create compositions that worked around dialogue bubbles! All the boring parts of comic creating lol. But then, the more comfortable I became with those techniques, the less time they took, and I could really go wild with the creative aspect! Now my updates are much longer!

It’s just a process. But at some point, all the advice and resources in the world can only help so much. You have to be willing to put in the time!

I’d say it’s kinda similar advice they give when you start working out. When you’re first starting, and you try to do more than your body is comfortable with, you’ll be in a lot of pain and won’t want to continue. It’s easy to give up if you’re not seeing results and you feel like you’re wasting your time. But if you start in a reasonable place, and let yourself learn as you go, then you can gain good habits and it’ll get easier!

And only then, when it’s easy, that’s when you challenge yourself! Not when you’re already struggling with just starting! Or it won’t be fun and all of your drive will disappear!

And that’s really what you’re doing this all for, right? For fun!

[versegm]

Coming out of my self-imposed tumblr ban cuz this is the third post I see along the lines of "man we gotta jump ship" so here are some other ways to be social/do fandom/ect. I'm not gonna call them "tumblr alternatives" because I won't lie to you these are gonna be very different experiences from tumblr. But if you use tumblr as a way to meet new people/post your thoughts/do fandom/keep up with folks, then maybe one of these is worth looking into.

COHOST

I don't use Cohost so idk if it's good or not, but all the people who use it tell me it's A Whole Lot Like Tumblr. Got pretty mixed reviews on this one, people seem to either love it or hate it, either way you could check it out it's free.

PILLOWFORT

My main bitch, so I can actually talk about it.

Pros:

Lots of cool privacy features

Porn is allowed

Website has been consistently getting updates and listening to the userbase

No ads because it's user-funded

Cons:

Being user-funded means the website is frequently struggling with money

NEOCITIES

This one isn't really a social media, it's a host for websites.

Pros:

You can do whatever the fuck you want here

Cons:

You have to code it all yourself

If you didn't immediately skip this rolling your eyes, here are some ressources to get a blog running with minimum efforts, and a cool zine to figure out what to put on your blog.

FANLISTING

Ye Old internet way to find new peeps in your fandom. It's a list of fans. I'm listing thefanlisting.org here because it's the biggest hub of fanlistings out there, but there are plenty that aren't listed so if you've got a topic dear to your heart it might be worth googling up "[fandom/ship/character] fanlisting" and see what turns up.

Pros:

It's literally just adding your name to a list of fans. Low spoon effort.

Cons:

If you want to talk to any of the people on the fanlisting you have to actually manually contact them via email or website or whatever they provided for contact. High social anxiety effort.

Anyways that's all I got chief. You probably already heard of half of those and the other half might have made you go "hey wtf that's not at all what I use tumblr for why would I need these" and the answer is it's not my problem. I discovered these when looking for ways for me personally to do social media so if you do social media differently sorry I can't help ya. But hey maybe you'll discover something new who knows.

Preemptive answers to things I am sure will clog my notifications for years to come:

None of these are like tumblr! Look bestie this is like the fifth time people consider abandoning tumblr at this point you have to make your peace with the fact that there is no other website like this one.

The websites you mentioned are nearly empty there's no one in my community here! Bro if you want a website with lots of people you don't need me listing off where you can go you already know where people are going (aka: Bluesky) If you're so scared to be alone then invite your buddies to move there together so you can chat together idk. Be the change you want to be in the world.

I'm not gonna use these. Then you've got my blessing to not use these. I assure you you don't need to reblog this post just to tell me you won't use these. I don't care.

Anyways. Peace. Dunno how many people this is gonna be useful to, but if you wanted to branch out of the usual reddit/bluesky/twitter, hopefully this will help.

Bunch of pillowfort invite codes under the cut since I got a bunch. Sorry I got no cohost as I said I don't use that one.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

This is Yonatan Shimriz. He's the brother of Alon, one of the 3 Israeli hostages kidnapped by Hamas, and accidentally killed by the IDF due to mistakenly thinking they're terrorists. Yonatan also survived with his family the massacre of Oct 7. And he just had a baby boy. Life WILL win, despite those who think they have the right to take it away.

It's been announced today that Israel has hired Prof. Malcolm Shaw, a Jewish British law professor, who specializes in the field of human rights and territorial disputes, to represent it at the International Court of Justice in the Hague. He's one of 4 lawyers that will represent Israel.

If I hadn't verified this is true through several news sources, I would not have believed this scenario. Terrorists fired an RPG at an IDF helicopter in Gaza, missed it, and ended up hitting a medical clinic in kibbutz Nirim, inside Israel, though as you might imagine, it's very close to the border. This is what the clinic looks like after the hit:

Lebanon has filed a complaint with the UN Security Council, blaming Israel for killing Saleh al-Arouri on its territory. Because harboring a senior Hamas terrorist, responsible for the murders of countless Israeli civilians, is not an issue, apparently. Lebanon charges that this is the biggest escalation between it and Israel since 2006 (the Second Lebanon War). They have no issue with Lebanon violating UN resolution 1701, which put an end to that war, conditioned on Hezbollah not being present anywhere between the Litani river and Lebanon's border with Israel (of course Hezbollah has been, and has been firing rockets at Israel from this area). Then again, the UN has done nothing to enforce that part of resolution 1701, so I guess if they don't care, why should the terrorists?

After I posted yesterday that the most likely scenario for who caused the blasts in Iran that killed 84 people is ISIS, the terrorist organization did take responsibility for the terrorist attack. Guess who Iran is still blaming for the attack, and swearing revenge against? The Jewish state. This is what antisemitism looks like. Well. It's one of its many looks.

On a different note, I wanted to see what the American media said about Claudine Gay's resignation, and I was horrified to hear that it's all painted in terms of liberals vs conservatives. Here's the thing, that may be completely true, but I just don't care. Antisemitism is a real issue, and the way the resignation is talked about, it's like the safety of Jewish students is nothing. Antisemitism is just a tool, and sometimes one political camp uses it against its rival, while at other times, that happens in the opposite direction. But it's like Jews are not even a part of the conversation. IDK, maybe it's because I'm an outsider, but the way Jews don't seem to matter even when antisemitism is supposedly finally being discussed, is truly startling. I'm in the middle of an active war zone, and I'm honestly sat here, worried for Jews abroad.

After a lot of work to gather information about their fate, the last 3 Israeli men missing since Oct 7 are now defined as hostages, which brings the total number of those kidnapped to 136, including bodies, and Israelis kidnapped before the massacre (2 living men and 2 bodies). There's one more missing Israeli woman, whose fate is still to be determined. We're 3 months into this nightmare, and there are still so many question marks. Even with those defined as murdered or kidnapped at a certain point, we've seen that sometimes there's new info, which changes what we believe happened to them.

And here's an example for the latter. This is 38 years old Tamir Adar.

Until yesterday, he was believed to be held hostage in Gaza. As new information was gathered, it was determined that he had been murdered on Oct 7. Tamir is the grandson of Holocaust survivor Yafa Adar, who was herself kidnapped, and released in the hostage deal. His body is still being held by the terrorists. Yafa herself was filmed as she was being taken to Gaza, holding her head up, and not crying. In an interview she gave after her release, she said that she refused to cry, because she wanted her family to be proud of her if they saw the footage. She also said that she's still not free, because her grandson is still in Gaza. I can't imagine what Yafa and her family feel after the news about Tamir's fate. May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)