#swift appreciates not being treated like he's fragile

[storytellingbadger]

Turns out Old Moon and Solar's Sun "Swift" have a lot in common.

Both are back from the dead. Both feel responsible for the devastation and destruction they left behind. Both are a little lost, trying to forge places in a family that went on without them. Both fiercely love their brothers. Both mourn a life that's long behind them.

As it transpires, they also both love numbers and mathematics, and bond over chess and sudoku.

Unexpected besties.

Based on my TSAMS AU Celestial Phenomena over on AO3. Mind the ratings.

[bellestarot]

Park Boyoung's & Park Hyungsik's Reading

August, 05, 2024

Right Now

Something that both of them were waiting to end in this connection finally came to an end, as if there was an answer to something they had been waiting for a long time in this connection. He definitely sees her as more than a friend. I think he has true feelings for her, and he has intentions of having something serious with her.

However, at the moment, it's as if they are on different pages. She is much more logical. She worries a lot about what people will say or how her reputation will be affected. She is very career-oriented and is afraid that he might see their relationship differently.

Boyoung feelings towards Hyungsik

She definitely appreciates him as a person. I think he has a very strong masculinity, and she likes that. She doesn't think he will make rash decisions and believes he is good at logical things. Even though he is emotional, he is grounded in many ways, and she sees herself as more fragile than he is, which has always created a good connection between them because they are a bit opposite.

However, I think in the past she had the opportunity to be with him or give him a chance, and she didn't take it. She didn't accept it, didn't want it, and now she feels a little disappointed for having done that.

She wishes a little to go back in time and have him make that offer again, but it's more about how she feels. She thinks she was a bit rude or not very sensitive or empathetic with him.

Hyungsik feelings towards Boyoung

He likes her.

But at the same time, he has a sense of inferiority towards her, as if he were lesser, as if she were the star, this freedom, as if she were more well-known than he is and that dating him would be like dating a 'boy' instead of a 'man' in how he would view their relationship.

He has a lot of passion for her and admires how emotional and compassionate she is with people. She is very kind and gentle, and he admires these qualities in her, feeling they were destined to meet somehow. I believe she will apologize or has already apologized for the way she treated him in the past.

He honestly also feels very intimidated by her.

Because despite her cute appearance, she has a very strong aura. Maybe she is a more experienced actress than he is, or perhaps she has greater respect in Korea. He simply walks on eggshells around her at times.

Near future to them

She will have to make a choice.

And it might be quite painful for both her and him because he will have so many expectations and so much confidence regarding this, and in the end, he won't get what he wanted, the answer he desired, and this can hurt a lot. On both sides, but especially on his. However, I see that they continue to have contact, continue being friends, and maintain a very good closeness despite what happens.

Whether they will be dating or not, the cards show that they won't be, but they will continue to be friends, standing by each other even if it's not in a romantic sense.

[junewashere]

Character backstory for the AU, whaaaaa, unheard of. until now :3c I really liked @wisteriasymphony little note under my hunting post about how colt exactly goes about treating felix like that

Born to his father, Colt Fathom, and his mother, Amelie Graham De Vanily, Felix was a rather sickly child at scientific birth. It took years for Felix to truly be “healthy” again and in that time he stayed at home nearly all the time. Education came easy to him and he enjoyed spending his free time reading/studying literature.

 His cousin Adrien often spent time with Felix and gave him someone to talk to besides his parents. Adrien always brought out a more playful, humerous, arch side to him that his father oh so wanted him to repress. The two boys often spent their time expressing all of their interests and desires that were much more frowned upon, such as rolling around in dirt, or more so watching Adrien roll in dirt while Felix shows him the cool bug he found. 

Regarding his parents Felix didn’t have issues with his mother. She was loving and caring, always so indulgent. Felix always appreciated her understanding and her patience but with his father it was entirely different. His father was cold and seemed to hold a grudge against him at artificial birth. He refused to believe in his sickness and took a repulsion to his interests. Felix always knew mother and father fought about him, how to care and raise him. Anytime Felix seemed healthy enough to even step a foot outside, his father snatched that to instill his values into him.

Felix always had a distaste for the things his father did but he didn’t have much means to fight back. Any semblance of an argument from Felix was met with either a swift back hand or a “lecture” that involved plenty of screaming. He refused to think of the worse options. Felix naturally began to harbor hatred for his father, after all he and his cousin stood for something. 

Felix’s father developed a sickness which plagued his ability to properly function. Ignoring all signs and explicit warnings against being active Colt decided to make yet another attempt to errdaticate his boy’s flamboyance and make him into even a semblance of “a man.” Felix and Adrien were taken on an hunting trip but was shot on accident. Infection quickly spread and He was well on his way to being on his death bed. Anger was a harsh understatement and even as his health declined Colt found every moment to make that “stupid little puck” suffer.

In his final moments of life he was in a fragile state. Hatred swelled beneath his skin as this “cure” Gabriel provided only caused him to worsen. His skin slopped off in heaps and majority of his muscles were in a paralysis. His mind clawed for release and was melting under the new growth that reeked of pus and would prove to not thrive in this already failing body. Each breathing moment was filled with agony and yet as he drew his final breaths he saw his son.

The boy his wife calls an angel was the devil that cursed him. They can both faintly hear the heart monitor spike and don’t even spare a glance towards it. The devil’s toxic green eyes stare into him. The Imp’s smirk is nothing short from revolting. Colt’s clawed hand twitches and he feels fingers trail against it. A low wheeze travels through the thick air and Felix refuses to register. The burning sensation travels further, each touch bringing further agony. A deathly pressure crushes Colt’s arm and all he knows is that in hell his demon spawn’s words will whip fire into his back.

Felix has yet to feel such satisfaction as that.

[magicalxgirlsxrp]

Ami gave Zane a grateful smile as he effortlessly placed the red velvet cupcake on her plate, her fingers grazing the delicate frosting for just a moment before she looked up at him. “Thank you, Zane,” she said softly, her voice warm with appreciation. “But I don’t need a drink. I’m good for now.” She smiled again, feeling a mix of gratitude and slight bashfulness. “I’ll enjoy this.” Her gaze lingered on the cupcake before she gently picked it up, savoring the thought of the sweet treat.

Makoto sat down with Nathan, a small sense of ease washing over her. "So, Nathan," she began, her voice tinged with curiosity. "What have you been up to lately? How’s life treating you?" She offered him a friendly, genuine smile, her eyes softening as she gazed at him, hoping for a relaxed and open conversation between the two of them. She’d missed talking to him, and the familiar comfort of his presence felt like a balm to her heart.

Minako beamed at Jaden as she listened to his words. “That sounds amazing,” she said with enthusiasm, her voice full of warmth. “I’d love for you to play the guitar for me sometime. Maybe we could even record something if the vibe fits.” She leaned in a little, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It’d be so fun to collaborate and see where it takes us!" The thought of making music together, even just for the joy of it, made her feel lighthearted and energized.

Rei’s gaze lingered on her friends as they engaged in conversations with their past lovers, and her heart tightened. She watched as Zane and Ami shared a moment, and Makoto and Nathan seemed to fall into an easy rhythm. Then there was her and Jaden, who couldn’t even meet each other’s eyes. She longed to feel that same closeness, that comfort of being understood without words, but something still held her back—something unspoken and heavy in the air. Rei’s chest tightened as she yearned for the connection she saw all around her. Why was it so hard for her to let go? She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes dropping to her hands. Would they ever get the chance to be close again, or was that something that was lost to the past?

Rei stood up quietly, her movement swift but graceful as she excused herself from the group. Her gaze flickered briefly toward Jaden, but she quickly looked away, feeling the distance between them settle back into place. “I’m just going to step out for a moment,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she didn’t want to disturb the fragile calm of the moment.

With that, she turned and walked toward the door, her steps light but hurried. The cool air outside greeted her like an old friend, and she sighed as she stepped out of the warmth of the shop. The city streets were bustling, but the noise seemed distant now, fading into the background as she leaned against the doorframe, taking in the fresh air.

She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Rei had always prided herself on being composed, but tonight... tonight was different. She could feel the tension knotting in her chest, the overwhelming mix of longing and frustration gnawing at her. Her mind replayed the moments from inside the shop—her friends reconnecting with old flames, the quiet distance between her and Jaden, and that ache in her heart that refused to fade.

Why was it so hard? Why couldn’t she just close the gap? Rei felt her breath catch in her throat as she swallowed back the lump of emotion threatening to choke her.

Rei opened her eyes and glanced back into the shop, her heart aching with the desire to rejoin the others, to feel like she belonged in that space again, without the heaviness between her and Jaden. But for now, she just needed a moment of quiet. Just a little longer to breathe, and maybe then, she could find a way to face what she was running from.

Nathan accepted the treats with a curious hum.. "I trust your judgment."

A loaded statement, so much broader than it readily sounded. He met her eyes and willed her to understand what he didn't dare yet say in present company: whatever my reservations, they aren't directly about you. You...

"I'm happy to see you too," Nathan said honestly.

Zane decided, even with such a small allowance, letting him get her something she wanted was an opening. However timid, a gesture of welcome or at least receptiveness, of a beginning anew. He smiled and reached effortlessly for the red velvet she'd wanted, passing it over at once to set in the perfect center of her allotted saucer. "There, one to start with. Anything to drink?"

Jaden cracked a more genuine smile that pulled up the corner of his mouth in a quick flash of teeth far more like himself. It made Mamoru relax to see it.

"I'd be honored to play for Minako. Heard she's a real artist," Jaden said almost cheerfully, buoyed by the comfortable topic.

Then she mentioned Rei. The smile faltered, turning into a tense parody of itself. "Oh, I ah. I wouldn't want to bother her. I mean, she's welcome of course, I'd be happy to work on a duet --" to work out a relationship, any relationship "-- but I'm sure she's too busy with... everything." There's no way she wants anything to do with me.

[taetaespeaches]

“You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: angst word count: 2.2K

a/n: Here it is, lovelies. I feel like this is way too hyped but I hope you all get HEARTBROKEN... kidding, loves. This is the “illicit affairs” inspired fic off of Taylor Swift’s folklore. This takes place after “I thought you left” after Yoongi returns from Japan. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

MINDLESSLY cleaning up your apartment, you almost didn’t register the ding of your phone, notifying you of a text. It wasn’t until the second ding, that you realized.

Reaching for the device, you could have swore your heart stopped upon reading his name on the screen.

Honey boy: We’re back. Can I see you?

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to stand up for yourself and tell him that he’s not allowed to treat you the way he did the past five days. You wanted to leave him in silence like he did you.

But you couldn’t.

You: You can come over tonight. Honey boy: 9 pm? You: That’s fine.

You were beginning to pity yourself even, holding onto this thing that never was. How pathetic.

As the next couple of hours passed before he was supposed to stop by, you nearly sent multiple texts telling him to stay away. Thirty minutes to nine, you started preparing yourself for the conversation you convinced yourself needed to happen. You would tell him if this is ever going to be something, he’s not allowed to promise communication while he’s away and then not follow through. You needed commitment.

Your anxiety was through the roof, your heart racing as 9 pm approached, and then, at 8:48 pm, there was a knock on your door. He was early?

Opening the door, you revealed a sorry looking Yoongi, dark circles under his eyes and his skin pale. His lips curved into a small smile as he greeted you, “Hey, Kid.”

That was all it took for you to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, his arms easily wrapping around your waist. And it wasn’t that the anger disappeared, but rather just didn’t matter in that moment.

You pulled him inside your apartment, Yoongi kicking the door closed before you kissed him with need. Yoongi slowed your actions by pulling away for a moment, holding your face in his hands as his eyes scanned your features.

“I missed you, you jerk,” you pouted, Yoongi giving you a sorrowful look.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” he whispered, casting his gaze to your feet. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like he was lost within himself. Compassion is a strong emotion. Strong enough to grant forgiveness sometimes, even if only temporary.

Gently, you took his hand and led him to your bedroom, letting go of his hand when you entered the room, walking to your dresser to grab a condom out of the box before making your way to your bed alone. You sat on the mattress and looked to Yoongi as he stood still in your doorframe.

“Come here,” you told him. He stared at you for a moment longer. He opened his mouth to speak, what you took as a protest, choosing to cut him off before he could begin. “Please.”

Yoongi took a deep breath before slowly starting toward you, you pulling your shirt over your head as he made his way across the room. He stood in front of you, allowing you to pull his pants off his body before he crawled on top of you, kissing you with passion. He stayed on top the whole time, holding your hand as he placed gentle kisses to your face.

It felt like an apology. And it was one you were willing to take. That is until it ended.

He rested beside you for a few minutes, running his fingertips over your arm and the side of your body, feeling the dips in your curves. It was nice. Comfortable. And you felt a sense of relief inside your stomach, easing the anxiety of the past few days. But then, he moved to get up.

“Where are you going?” Your tone laced in panic.

He didn’t look back at you as he pulled his bottoms onto his legs, his back facing you. You noted the expanse of it again, appreciating his smooth skin and toned muscles in contrast to the outline of his spine. And then the realization hit you that you were always seeing his back. You were always watching him leave, and you never knew when he’d return.

“I have to get back to the dorm, I told the guys I’d be home in a bit,” he told you. And something snapped inside you.

“They still don’t know about us?” You asked pointedly, Yoongi stalling his movements for moment before he stood to pull his underwear and jeans over his ass. Turning around, he looked at you as he zipped and buttoned his pants.

“I haven’t told them, no,” he started, glancing around the room for a moment to find his shirt. Spotting it, he looked back to you. “Hobi knows of you.”

“Is that why you didn’t contact me while you were in Japan? The boys being around?” You asked. There was the anger again.

“Between that and the busy schedule, yeah,” he confirmed, looking slightly guilty but mostly on the defense.  

You hummed, nodding. Yoongi walked the few feet to his shirt, scooping it up and looking at you as he held it in his grasp. “Hobi knows?” You asked.

“He knows I’ve been seeing you a bit,” he told you just before pulling the shirt over his head. With him fully dressed and you still naked in bed, you suddenly became aware of how vulnerable you felt. You pulled the comforter up around you, curling your legs against your chest.

“I told my coworker about you a couple days ago,” you told him, Yoongi looking at you curiously.

“Yeah?” The words were spoken out of genuine curiosity, as if he wanted to hear what you would have told your coworker about him.

“Yeah. She asked what we are, and I didn’t know how to answer,” you told him. You were preparing to fight, and you didn’t care anymore if it would ruin everything you’ve been clinging so tightly to.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his eyebrows pulling together.

“Well you’ve never given any indication of us being in a relationship, so I couldn’t call you my boyfriend, but it felt crude to call you a fuck buddy,” you told him, holding some venom in the final two words.

“You thought about calling me a fuck buddy?” He asked, anger now seeping into his usually gentle features.

“The thought crossed my mind.” Your tone was cold, and you knew it was. It was supposed to be.

“What the fuck?” He questioned angrily. “That’s what you think this is?” Any intention of leaving was now gone as he planted his feet, staring daggers at you from a few feet from the bed.

“I don’t know what this is, that’s the problem,” you informed him, standing up to find something to wear. You kept the blanket draped over you, your back to him as you spotted your clothes. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the one, and I didn’t even think that was a thing before I met you,” you admitted, pulling your underwear on. “But other times, I feel like I’m being used,” you said as you pulled your shirt over your head, “or that I’m just here for when you need-”

“Used?” He questioned, the word drenched in hurt.

“Ever since we started having sex, you started pulling away,” you told him, turning to look at him.

“That’s not true,” he shook his head, a mixture of disappointment and anger on his face.

“It is true,” you insisted. “Look at you right now,” you gestured to him, pointing out his fully dressed form as he prepared to leave after coming over for an hour to have sex. “What am I supposed to think?”

He looked down at himself before looking up at you again, desperately searching for words. “I didn’t come over here for sex, I came over because I missed you,” he told you, his face scrunched up. “You initiated this,” he gestured to the bed.

“Right, well excuse me for trying to feel close to you,” you pointedly retorted.

“You think we have to be having sex to feel close to me?” He asked. You could tell he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions but so were you.

You shrugged, staring at him. “You left me in complete silence.” You spoke the words in a quieter voice than you’d been using, and you watched as they penetrated his fragile shield of thick skin.

“I told you when we started this whole thing that it would be complicated,” he reminded you, you shaking your head. “I told you so many times, I warned you that I wouldn’t be able to give you a normal relationship.”

“I’m not looking for a normal relationship, Yoongi, I’m just looking for some consistency and some sort of” you searched for the word, “label, so I don’t feel like I’m making all this shit up,” you told him, tears forming in your eyes.

“Making what up?” He questioned, his voice quiet as he stared at you intently.

“How I feel about you, and how I thought you felt about me,” you admitted, a tear falling down your cheek before wiping it away quickly. You could have sworn Yoongi took a step toward you before deciding against it. “I feel fucking insane when I get so much affection and care from you one morning and then you’re gone for five days without a word. And then when you come back, I’m just supposed to act like your silence didn’t hurt?”

He stared at you for a moment, waiting for you to continue, and his continued silence made the whole fight hurt so much more.

“Just tell me what we are so I can at least put my guard up, because you have the power to completely break my heart,” you said as more tears fell, you groaning in frustration at the evidence of your pain, wiping them away aggressively.

“I warned you of all of this. You said you were capable of making your own decisions. You kept me around. You asked for this,” he said, regret immediately taking over his features.

“I asked for this?” You questioned angrily.

“That’s not what I meant,” he interjected.

“I didn’t ask to be treated like a convenient play-thing for when you need to get off, or like a fucking ego boost for when you’re feeling insecure or lonely,” you spat, knowing fully well that the words would hurt him.

“That’s not what this is though,” he told you sadly, the anger leaving him.  

“I guess I was wrong when I said I could handle the terms of this relation-whatever the fuck this is,” you corrected. “Because this is not working for me,” you told him, Yoongi’s eyes widening in what appeared to be panic. “I feel pathetic and taken advantage of, Yoongi, do you not see that?”

“I’m not taking advantage of you, Kid, jesus christ,” he defended, his tone defeated.

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed. “Don’t call me that right now.” You visibly saw Yoongi take a sharp breath of air in. “Do you see me?” You asked, both of you staring at each other for a moment. “I’m a mess for you. And you know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you. And you’re just letting me do it,” you cried, wrapping your arms around your body.

Yoongi stared at you speechless, his eyes raking over every inch of you as he realized what you were saying. He was breaking you down, intentional or not.  

“I’m sorry,” he told you sincerely, backing away from you. “I-fuck I’m sorry.” Without another word, he turned around and made his way through your apartment, you following after him angrily.

“So that’s it? You’re walking away?” You asked through your tears, watching him as he grabbed your door knob.

“What do you want me to do?” He turned around to look at you, tears in his eyes. “I’m ruining you right?” You stared at each other, hopeless and directionless, both of you running through your history, trying to figure out where things could have been changed to avoid this exact moment from ever happening. “I just- I can’t give you more than this, baby.” You flinched at the term of affection, and he sighed. “As much as I want to give you more, I fucking can’t,” he told you, his voice shaking with emotion as the words left his lips.

The man in front of you was lost and confused, regret and heartbreak evident in his expression, his eyes tired and dark, his skin lack luster compared to its usual glow. You had all but told him to leave, but halfway out the door you felt betrayed that he was actually leaving.

It was a flaw of yours to use anger in times of hurt; to throw mean remarks instead of what you really wanted to say. And you put that on display with your next words.

“Make sure no one sees you leave. And heaven forbid your members see you come back flushed, better tell them you were out for a run,” you told him viciously. “We can act like we never happened,” you added quietly. Yoongi nodded slowly before exiting your apartment, closing the door quietly behind him, his clothed back being the last you saw of him.

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Let me take you away (Hongjoong/Smut)

Tags: Pirate au! Mentions of abuse, smut, really just love making, nothing rough

Word count: 3718... a short one for my standards

Drinking in the sunlight was getting more and more difficult as it slowly started to go down. The sky turning orange mixed with pinks and purples as it did so. As much as you wanted to bask in it, you also admired the colors that painted the sky. You couldn’t help but feeling draw to the outdoors today, something about the fresh air made you wonder. 

He was free and you felt like a prisoner. Trapped by your duties as someone of importance in this cruel world. All you wanted was to be free with him. 

“What are you doing outside?” You knew your husband’s voice and it nearly disgusted you. You glanced behind you, through the doors of your balcony and into your room. “Just enjoying the fresh air.” You mumbled, hearing his heavy footsteps behind you and joining you on the balcony. 

You weren’t wearing much, a satin night gown that stopped mid-thigh and a robe made of thin fragile fabric, with lace trim. This was provoking for your husband, his hand now on your hip roughly. You swallowed thickly, not appreciating the gesture whatsoever. The feeling only intensifying when you felt his lips near you ear. “When are you going to start sharing quarters with me?” You cringed, you physically cringed at his words. Not wanting that to ever happen, you never wanted him near you in that way. 

His hand moved from your hip up to the back of your neck, forcefully pushing your body to bend forward. Your chest hit the hard marble of the balcony railing and he gripped your hair. Your husband leaned forward, his lips by you ear once more as you gasped due to the force. 

“One day you will be greatfull for me.” He muttered and let your body go, leaving you in shock. Sliding to the floor, you clutched your knees to your chest and watched the man you hated so much just walk away.

The governor had fallen for you, seeing you when he made a visit to your inn one day and claiming you were his. He had that right. Only the man didn’t know your heart belonged to another. He wasn’t aware that you had someone that would visit in the night, someone that loved you truly and deeply, someone that you loved truly and deeply. 

Kim Hongjoong was a pirate, he instilled fear in most people’s hearts and when you first met him he did the same to you. He needed rooms for his men when they stumbled into your inn one evening. The storm that raged on that evening making it quite difficult to remain on their ship given the option. 

You knew who they were immediately, their clothing and demeanor giving it away instantly. But you weren’t one to turn down business, so you pushed it all to the side and gave them harbor. It had been a slow year, so you took the money where you could. That evening, you had to admit was peacefull. Not something you expected from a group of pirates. You also had to admit that their captain had caught your eye. 

“You know who we are.” His voice came from next to you. It was late into the evening and you were sat at a table with a lonely candle, reading. You turned your attention to him, the pirate standing before you. “I do.” You said and looked back at your book. “You haven’t notified the authorities yet?” He asked, an eyebrow raised at your fearless form. “Why would I? You haven’t caused me any disturbance and you are paying for the provided services.” You looked at him again, the candle light making his eyes sparkle. 

“Fascinating woman you are.” He said and sat down across from you. The comment made you blush, much to your dismay. Thankfully the room was too dimlit for the captain to tell. “You’re reading about adventures.” He said after reading the title of the book in your hands. “Ever have any of your own?” He asked and you locked eyes for a moment. 

You had lived there your whole life, taking over the inn when your parents passed on and didn’t have time for the freedom of travel. 

You shook your head and the man nodded in understanding. “Would you like me to tell you about ours?” He asked and you shut your book gently. Your attention being fully on him now. The candle light lit his features to show a kind face and he couldn’t help but feel attracted to yours. As you nodded your head at his question, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 

That evening he had told you about unbelievable life. The travels, the fights and the horrible nights at sea. He told you about all the places he had seen, the most beautiful locations not being able to hold a candle to you in his opinion. You had seemingly fell in love with one conversation, as odd as it seemed. 

“You’ve seen so much.” You said, your head resting in your hand as you listened intensly. He chuckled, moving his hand across the table to take yours. “You could come and see things too.”  Hongjoong said and you were taken back. You met him less than a day prior. “That’s a big offer. What are the terms?” You asked and he smirked at you, sending a shiver through your body in a way you weren’t expecting. “You become mine.” His words caught you off guard and he could tell. 

“I feel honored, but I can’t leave the inn. It was my parents’.” You told him and he sighed. “What a shame, I don’t like being on land long.” Hongjoong stood up and moved to sit next to you instead. In reality you should have been terrified, but you weren’t. Hongjoong brushed your hair off of your shoulder, exposing your cleavage more and your collarbones. His eyes flickered down for a moment and you took a deep breath. “But I guess this gives me a reason to come back.” He added, his fingers dancing over your collarbones. You weren’t stopping him and you weren’t planning too. His touch felt nice and you couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched you. Let alone one with an air of danger around him. It thrilled you. Kim Hongjoong was your adventure. 

His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a swift kiss, his lips being surprisingly soft against yours. You didn’t hesitate either, something animalistic taking over you as your fingers went to his hair.

The next morning was chilly especially considering you woke up completely bare in the pirate’s bed. The man himself still asleep next to you, snoring lightly. You weren’t feeling any regret, maybe a bit of nerves and a dull ache inbetween your legs. But no regret. Yet you had duties to do in the inn and moved to get out of bed. Hongjoong’s arm quickly wrapped around your waist. “Don’t leave, not yet.” He told you, sleep very apparent in his voice. His eyes were half open looking at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Alright, a little longer then.” You said and fell back into his arms. 

Later that day, you said goodbye. Not expecting you’d ever see him again. Which was fine, he had been your one night adventure and you were alright with that. Yet he played on your mind more than you cared to admit. Though, he returned. Much to your surprise. 

Hongjoong couldn’t help but return to your small inn multiple times, love for you growing more and more each time. Nights spent together, stories told and heartbreak each time he left. 

He had been gone months by the time the governor came around and seemingly stole you. You had no way of telling your love what had happened, considering it was all done so quickly and the fact that you had no choice. 

Hongjoong’s heart dropped, appearing at the inn only to find the building burned to the ground. The bones of the place he had met the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, the woman he had shared a bed with, being the only things left standing. He thoroughly believed you were dead. It wasn’t uncommon for thieves to do things like that and he blamed himself. He blamed the life he chose for himself instead of staying with you. Hongjoong was angry. 

Then the news reached him of a wedding, your wedding. The governor marrying a lowley in inn keeper was big news, news big enough to reach him at sea. 

Hongjoong re-entered your mind as you sobbed on the balcony of your home. You had been married for a few short months now, having not seen Hongjoong in almost a year. He was the only man you ever loved, the only one who ever treated you right and he was a pirate and he was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or imprisoned or just still out at sea. It devastated you how you got seperated this way. 

You found the energy to push yourself off of the ground and stand up. It now being completely dark outside and your chest and ribs hurt from the force of the earlier blow. You walked into your room and removed your robe before going to lay in bed. You simply wanted to forget the events that had just occured. Curling up into your blankets, you shut your eyes and went to sleep. 

Hongjoong had snuck his way into the garden of the governor’s house, he had finally got back to land and you were his first priority. He had no idea where to begin, he was going into this blindly with no plan. Though he was sure, he would slit the governor’s throat if it came down to it. He was going to get you out and he was taking you with him. Though he had gotten lucky, seeing the balcony as an easy spot to enter the house. 

He was wearing the clothes that instilled fear in peoples hearts when they saw him. The black coat a little tighter on him than the last time you had seen him, he had been through hardships at sea and his body was showing them. His black hat sat on his head with his seemingly shorter hair underneath and the mask covered his mouth and nose. Hongjoong’s eyes were the only feature on his face visible as he entered your bedroom. 

His heart pounded in his chest, seeing a figure in bed. It was dark in the room, making Hongjoong draw his sword. He didn’t want any nasty surprises. Slowly, he entered the room thinking the person in bed was still sleeping. His sword was raised ready for action if they moved. He couldn’t tell who it was at all. 

“Just do it. If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Put me out of my misery.” You sat up in bed. You had heard the person entering your room through the balcony, finding that sleep didn’t come to you as easy as you had hoped. If this man was hear to kill you, you weren’t going to stop him. 

The second Hongjoong saw your face and heard your voice, it didn’t matter that it was dark. The hand holding his sword fell quickly, especially hearing your words. “Why are you in misery?” He asked and the voice was incredibly familiar to you, painfully familiar. You took a good look at the attire, scanning the man from the feet up. You knew the clothing. Your gaze stopped at his eyes, the moonlight that showed through the room making them sparkle in a way you knew all too well. 

“Hongjoong?” You asked, the blanket that covered you slipping down. The man took his mask off and you knew for sure. Pushing the sheets of your bed to the side as Hongjoong dropped his sword to hold you. 

Your emotions went through the roof instantly, tears of relief and joy streaming down your cheeks as your arms wrapped around Hongjoong’s neck. His arms were snug around your waist, face tucked into your neck as he absorbed the way you felt holding him. You moved back slightly, your hands cupping his face as you examined it. It had been so long since you had seen him last. He looked tired and had some new scars on his face but he was just as handsome as before. 

Hongjoong couldn’t help but smile at your face, wiping your tears away. “You look beautiful.” He said, his thumb swiping over your lips gently. “I thought you were dead.” You mumbled and he tilted your face to look at him. 

Hongjoong kissed you for the first time in almost a year and you had never experienced a kiss so full of emotion. One hand cupped your cheek and the other pulled you into him as close as you possibly could be. Your own hands moved to his hair, knocking his hat to the floor. The kiss deepened dramatically, his tongue dragging over your lips. You couldn’t help but hum in response, the last time you were touched like this being the last time you had seen Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong’s kiss got hungrier, hands moving from your face down your body. You couldn’t help but wince in pain as his hands moved your ribs, already being bruised from your husbands attack a few hours prior. Hongjoong looked at you, lifting your night gown with a serious expression. You never winced at his touch. 

The bruising was minor but enough to make his blood boil. “I���m going to kill him.” He muttered, moving to grab his sword. The grip you had on his arm stopping him and making him look at you. “Don’t. Please, we can just leave.” You said, cupping his face once more. Hongjoong’s jaw clenched, thinking of the man who stole you from him. 

You kissed him, harder this time around. As much as you hated your husband, you loved Hongjoong more and wanted him focussed on that. Your fingers moved under his coat and pushed it off of his shoulders, dropping to the floor with a light thud. Hongjoong took a step forward, pushing you back on to your bed as lightly as he could. Crawling over you, he discarded your nightgown somewhere in the room and it left you almost completely bare. He drank your body in, a sight he truly missed. 

His lips started at your neck, dragging over the skin before nipping at it lightly. Hongjoong wanted to mark you, he wanted everyone in the whole world to know you were his. The small purple lovebites starting to already fill your skin and your hands started tugging at his blouse, wanting it off and wanting to feel his skin on yours again. He abided by your wishes, throwing it across the room before you connected your lips again. 

That was when the ink on his skin caught your eye. The small tattoos that littered his skin, some being familiar and some being new. They were the things you traced when you couldn’t sleep at night or when you and him simply were talking. It was one of the small things you loved. 

The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your core snapped you out of your trance. His lips absorbing the gasp that left you and smiling against you. Hongjoong remembered how to make you feel that way and only he could. 

Slowly, he rubbed circles over your clit. He wasn’t kissing your skin anymore, he was just watching you. Taking in all of your reactions and absorbing them. Small gasps left your lips and your eyes fluttered shut, finally feeling some relief. Hongjoong couldn’t help but smile softly watching you, moving down slightly and peppering kisses over your breasts. He bit down on your nipple lightly, swirling his tongue over it. He used this as a distraction before dipping his fingers down further, slipping inside of you with ease at how wet you were. 

A louder gasp left you, causing you to thread you fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. Hongjoong’s fingers curled inside of you, pumping slowly and his lips moved to your other nipple. Your gasps were getting progressively louder and it surprised you how fast your orgasm was approaching. “Hongjoong.” You breathed, the grip on his hair tightening. 

“I can feel your close, I missed the way you feel my love. I missed the way you sound.” He whispered it, he wanted this to be scared. Even though no one else was around, he couldn’t let this moment be ruined. 

The pace of his fingers quickened, hitting a spot that made you see stars. “I love you, I love you so much~” The words came out repeatedly as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs shaking slightly, trying to close them only for Hongjoong to press them to the mattress. “I love you too.” He said, his fingers pumping through your orgasm and slowing down gradually. 

Sitting up, your hands moved to undo his trousers. You needed him so badly it almost hurt. He couldn’t help but chcukle at how fast your fingers were working, making you stop to look at him. Your eyes were darker and filled with need and you never looked more beautiful. You pushed out your lips, wanting him to kiss you again. Hongjoong’s smile was so bright as he kissed you again. Your hands working his pants again, slightly palming him through the fabric. Soft sighs escaping him and fueling your need. 

He stepped out of the constricting fabric as his tongue snaked into your mouth once more. You wrapped your hand around his now exposed cock, pumping it as you kissed. Hongjoong’s breathing picked up as your hand pumped him a little faster and soft moans slowly started leaving his mouth. “Stop, not yet.” He groaned, pulling your hand off of him and pinning you to the bed.  

Hongjoong fully settled inbetween your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He wasted no time fully sheathing himself inside of you and muffled your surprised gasp with his lips. 

The feeling was so familiar and felt so right for the both of you. The way you were wrapped around him, gripping him tightly and he hit a spot that made you feel like you could see the whole universe. 

Hongjoong had to compose himself, placing his arms by your head for support as he did so. Your hands traced over his face, running your fingers over his features and following the lines of his lips. He couldn’t help but look at you through hooded eyes and feeling you clench around him nearly set him off. 

He rolled his hips almost experimentally to see if you were ready for him. When you didn’t stop his movement, he realised it was okay and picked up the pace gently. Your hips rolled up to meet his, your bottom lips caught inbetween your teeth to keep you from screaming out. You felt so good, tears couldn’t help but roll from your eyes and Hongjoong pressed his forehead to yours. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled, watching the tears slowly roll down your cheeks as you bit back your sounds. Tucking his face into your neck, he moved his hands and held your thighs. “Just as beautiful as the first day I saw you.” He added, his praises nearly sending you over the edge alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks in their wake that he would wear like a badge of honor. 

Small whimpers left your mouth as you were thrown over the edge, you tried your best to subdue your sounds. Hongjoong was surprised at how hard you clenched around him, feeling your body shake and convulse for him. He burried himself into you as deep as he could, cumming inside of you and groaning into your neck. 

You pet his hair as he did so, your heavy breaths falling in tune with his. He looked at you, his hand wiping away the tears that rolled over your cheeks.  “Let me take you away.” He said, still stroking your cheeks. “Let me take care of you, let me give you the adventure you have wanted. Let me give you safety.” He said, nearly crying himself. All the emotions of the last months coming out and hitting him at once. 

“I’m all yours.” You whispered, still petting his hair. Hongjoong moved off of you and rested beside you in bed, your body getting hit with a chill. “Then we need to go, now.” He said and you looked at him. Tonight would be the only chance he had and there was no way he was leaving without you. “I thought you were dead.” He mumbled and sat up to look for his clothes. You stood up with him and did the same, your legs shaking slightly. 

The mood in the room changed from  being filled with love to being filled with hurry. You had realised how much time had past and that you would only have a few more hours before daylight came, there was no way you were going to stay there. 

Pulling on a thick shirt and the only pair of trousers you had, you glanced at Hongjoong. He was back in his dark attire, the hat being seated on his head once more. Watching you, he shook off his coat before laying it over your shoulders. “It’s chilly out.” He mumbled before leaning in and kissing your cheek. The action was small and sweet, still managing to make you blush. 

You grabbed his hand and held it against your lips and face. “Let’s go.” You mumbled, kissing his hand and he felt his chest heat up. “You can’t do sweet things like that in front of the crew, they’ll never let me live it down.” The moment was lighthearted, something you had missed. “All the more reason for me to do it, my dear.” You joked, a big smile on your face. You felt safe, you felt at home. Kim Hongjoong was your home. He was your adventure. 

A/n: I feel like I started out strong and ended weak. Anyways... I digress. Feedback would be appreciated

[7-wonders]

Kiss of Fire

Summary: You only want what’s best for Jim, and that includes staying clean of drugs. Jim, who’s been bottling up his true feelings for so long, finally snaps after he finds out you flushed his stash. 

Word Count: 2583

A/N: TWs for SMUT, knife play, bondage, vague dub-con, dark!Jim, drug mentions, threatening pregnancy, and vague toxicity. Story will be under a cut due to the multiple potential triggers. I’ve been wanting to writing something for dark!Jim for the longest time, and this is the best I could come up with right now tbh. Smutty, dark goodness. Let me know what you think; feedback of all kinds is always appreciated, and my requests are always open!

The distant salt air of the sea wafts in through the open windows, but it’s overshadowed by the pungent smell of weed that covers Jim’s clothes. He hasn’t smoked in a week, he’s promised you that, but he also hasn’t stopped hanging around his buddies that smoke weed like they need it to live. When Jim realizes your mind has drifted, he presses you harder into the door. Your shoulders twinge with a slight pain but it’s a pain that, against all better judgement, makes your knees weak.

“What the fuck, Jim?” You hiss through clenched teeth, glaring up at him. His blue eyes are blown, and if you hadn’t been with him all night you would have thought that he had snuck off to do a line or two in the bathroom of whoever’s house was party central tonight. He’s breathing heavily, likely from hauling you up the stairs after driving like a bat out of hell to get to his place.

Ever since Jim had been found half-dead on the beach two years ago, his parents tended to give in to what he wanted; they assumed that they hadn’t cared enough which, while true, was only the tip of the iceberg that was Jim’s problems. Sandy and Phil hadn’t reconciled, not by any means, but they managed to be civil in order to make sure that Jim wouldn’t go off the rails again. Jim wanted to go to Paris with his dad and sister? They were on an international flight the next week. Jim wanted a new surfboard? Phil made sure that Jim had a new board to replace the other new one, just in case something happened to it. That’s how Jim had gotten his house: He claimed that he and Medina needed to live alone now that they were college students. Since Medina would be living with and, presumably, watching over him, the Mason parents were more than happy to oblige.

If only Medina was able to look past the healthy brother act and see the signs that were right in front of her. Jim had remained sober when it came to the prescription drugs, which was good enough for Medina. As long as she didn’t have to lock pills up, she figured her brother was recovered. But what she refused to acknowledge was all of the other drugs that Jim was dabbling in. Lately, he’s been fond of the ‘party drugs,’ like ecstasy and molly. They cost more money than the opiods he had previously been using, but he reasoned that it was a small price to pay to keep from getting addicted and remain under the radar.

Medina’s out, gone to a professional surfing competition in Australia for the week. Sometimes you want to shake her, to make her see what’s happening right in front of her eyes. But a part of you gets why she’s turning a blind eye, just as her mother and father did years ago when Jim was first on drugs. This is her brother, her twin, her best friend since they were born. Medina herself had told you how devastating it was to do nothing but wait while Jim clung to life in the ICU. Maybe you’re enabling her, allowing her to believe that nothing’s wrong while trying to deal with the growing issue yourself. But you’re protecting her, really, and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“What’s wrong? I thought your goal was to get me away from that party? Well, mission accomplished!” He declares, huffing angrily.

“I was only trying to-”

“To make sure that I don’t run off to go smoke a bowl? To keep me from getting a clean high by flushing my stash down the toilet?” You didn’t know that he knew you had found his ecstasy, tucked behind a picture frame hanging on the wall.

“I’m trying to help you, Jim! You should know better than anyone how easy it is to relapse!”

“I know my limits. Why don’t you know yours, you nosy brat?” Your jaw drops at the insult, frozen even after Jim removes his hands from your shoulders. “You really wanna help me?”

“You know I do.” His jaw tightens, and you can see a vein on his neck sticking out.

“Let me try something.” He waits for your confirmation, only moving when you nod. “You remember the safe word?”

Jim had always been extremely gentle with you when it came to sex, treating you more like a fragile glass than like a woman with needs and desires. The one time you had placed his hand on your throat and begged him to choke you a little, he placed a minute amount of pressure upon the soft skin of your neck before proclaiming that he couldn’t hurt you like that and stopped. Still, he insisted that the two of you have a safe word, just in case the gentle sex got to be too much (something that you still roll your eyes at).

“Lunada.” Jim hears the bemusement in your voice, but hums his approval at your knowledge of the safe word. You gasp when he snatches your chin, forcing your face close to his.

“Be a good girl for once in your life, take your clothes off, and get on the bed.” His voice barely rises above a whisper, but it carries with it a very real threat that has you shivering with a fear you’ve never felt before.

Your hands shake, a result of not knowing what’s going to happen next, as you fumble with the jeans and shirt that cover you. Jim impatiently removes your clothes for you, leaving you shivering in just your underwear. You allow yourself to fall backwards, the bed stopping your momentum as you stare at the man who now lords over you.

“Jim?” You ask, voice quivering.

“I didn’t say you could talk.” He sneers, pushing you until you’re flat on your back against the mattress. “Hold out your arms.”

You do as he says, extending your arms out in front of you. You hold them there while Jim leaves the room to search for something, heart rate picking up when he reappears with a silk scarf that he must have taken from Medina’s room. His tongue slightly pokes out of his mouth while he focuses on tying your wrists together, an intricate knot making you wonder if he grew up being a Boy Scout. When he yanks your bound wrists above your head to tie them to the headboard, you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out.

“You look so beautiful, all tied up and vulnerable for me.” Jim moans out, palming at the bulge in his jeans while he slides your panties down your legs. You want to roll your eyes when he shoves the fabric in his back pocket, but you really don’t know how he’d react if he caught you doing it. “Hmm, how will I get your bra off?” He muses, pacing back and forth at the end of the bed.

When he reaches into his nightstand, he doesn’t pull out a condom, which is what you’re expecting; instead, he holds the sleek handle of a pocket knife that you weren’t aware he owned.

“W-what…?” You trail off upon realizing that he warned you not to speak. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to realize that he made that rule only minutes ago. Jim flips the blade of the knife out, inspecting it with a sharp precision. Your breathing hitches as Jim crawls towards you, tracing the sharp metal lightly along the swell of your breasts.

“Don’t worry (Y/N),” Jim grins wolfishly at you. “I won’t hurt you. Not unless you ask for it.” He cuts through the straps of your bra with fluid movements, discarding the knife on the nightstand so he can have both hands free to fully rip your bra off of you.

Terror courses through you, and you find yourself a little disgusted at how wet you are from it. Your boyfriend, the recovering drug addict, is pissed at you for making him leave a potentially dangerous situation and retaliates by manhandling you, tying you up, and using a knife to cut off your clothes. You can only feel a little ashamed at the way Jim’s 180 personality flip gets you going, the shame leaving your body when he starts trailing hot kisses down your body.

You can prepare yourself all you want, attempt to brace your body as Jim hovers right above your cunt, but you still can’t help the gasp that leaves you when his tongue starts to work at your clit. Jim loves foreplay, more than anyone you’ve met, and he knows the exact movements to get your toes curling. You want to reach down and tangle your fingers through his chocolate locks, forgetting that your hands are currently bound above your head. Huffing with frustration, you tug at your restraints. Jim peeks up at you and laughs, momentarily breaking this ‘dark’ facade he’s adopted.

“I’m sorry baby, I know how much you love pulling my hair.” He grins, swallowing your angry breaths with his own mouth. He peeled off his clothes without you noticing, likely while he was going down on you, and enters you with one swift thrust. Your walls burn pleasurably as they stretch around him, Jim’s eyes fluttering shut as your walls adjust to his length.

It doesn’t take him long to set a brutally fast pace, your hips snapping up in a frantic attempt to meet his. Jim moves his kisses from your mouth to your throat, making new bruises blossom over the old ones that have almost faded completely.

“Oh Jim, I…” A loud moan cuts you off, and you toss your head back against the pillows. He continues to rock in and out of you, gritting his teeth to try and stifle his own moans.

“Yeah? You’re taking me so well, you always do. Couldn’t resist this sweet pussy, even when you are being a brat.” You want to retort, but a strong hand gripping your throat has your eyes lighting up in glee instead. Jim smirks at your excitement, shaking his head. “Of course you wanted this.”

You can feel it coming, feel yourself teetering on the edge of a sweet release. All of the sensations you’re currently feeling are only heightened at your lightheadedness, and your mouth falls open in a breathy moan.

“Jim, I need-” You rasp out as you start to clench around him. Jim nods, understanding what you’re saying without needing you to finish the sentence. He removes his hand from your neck and starts rubbing tight circles on your clit, causing you to jolt up against him.

He’s grinning down at you, sweat beading on his brow as he speeds up his thrusts.

“God, look at you, completely helpless beneath me. I could cum in you right now and there’s not a thing you could do about it.” Your eyes widen; you’re on birth control, of course, but he’s never wanted to chance the 1% that doesn’t work. He doesn’t notice you looking at him, instead babbling on as he gets closer to his own release. “Could you imagine what would happen if you got pregnant? I’d take care of you so well, you wouldn’t need to worry about anything but growing our healthy baby. I used to think you couldn’t get any hotter, but the thought of you swollen with a child that I gave you is fucking angelic.”

You want to fire back with a retort, but your orgasm washes over you quicker than a sentence could be formed in your head. Your back arches against the bed, wrists tugging painfully above you as you try to reach for something, anything, to help keep you grounded. Jim reaches his own release moments after he slips out of you, painting your abdomen with his cum. He collapses on top of you, being careful not to crush you with his weight.

After your breathing’s slowed down and he’s softened, he kisses you. It’s gentle, entirely unlike how he’s been the rest of the night before this, and it has you swooning. The pocket knife appears in his hand again, and he cuts the scarf off of your hands. Your shoulders pop as you stretch out, wrists a bright red and fingers tingling while the blood rushes back into them. Sliding his finger across your stomach to collect some of his seed, you dutifully open your mouth and suckle it off of his long digit.

“Thank you for letting me do this.” He says while cleaning you off with the the ripped scarf that was still hanging around the headboard. “I’ve been wanting to try that for a while, but I got nervous you’d get freaked out by it.”

“Was I taken off guard? Yes. Freaked out? No.” You answer after a moment. “Is it just, like, a sex thing? You got a little dark there.”

Jim shrugs. “I feel like there’s two sides to me. The beach boy that everyone knows, sweet, recovering-addict Jim Mason who likes to surf. And then there’s a part that I have to keep hidden, the side that you saw. Even Medina gets scared when I get like that; she stole my sketchbook once, maybe three years ago? We had a fight, and she stole it and claimed that she was gonna throw all of my sketches away. I just lost it, started yelling at her and blaming her for all my problems. I went on a bender after that, and I don’t think I came down for two weeks. That anger, that...that darkness has been with me for as long as I can remember. After that fight with my sister, I promised myself that I would never get like that again.”

“So why tonight, of all nights?”

“It’s been building up, festering right below the surface. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any coke to help me easily cope anymore, I’m not sure. But tonight, watching you try to help me, it made me realize how easy I could lose you. What if you get fed up with having to constantly make sure I don’t use again, and leave me for someone else? (Y/N), I’d die without you.”

Your hand, which has been stroking Jim’s hair, freezes in place. He’d die without you? You love him, but you never thought things were this serious in his mind. Surely he must be exaggerating, feeling sappy after the sex you just had. Maybe the insecurities he felt tonight brought out these deeper feelings, ones that he couldn’t possibly mean. Jim looks up at you, confused.

“Did I scare you?”

“No Jimmy, you didn’t scare me. Let’s...we’ll just have to work on making sure you can control these emotions. And maybe don’t threaten to get me pregnant right before we both come? I’m sure we’d both make great parents, but we’re way too young right now.” Jim nods, yawning and settling his head against your side.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Jim.” You mutter, watching as his eyes flutter closed. You eventually close your eyes too, drifting off as you worry about how to save Jim Mason. You sleep so soundly, in fact, that you don’t feel Jim getting up two hours later so he can grab his phone and search ways to cancel out birth control.

Tag List: @sammythankyou @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @sebastianshoe @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @let-me-try-mom @queencocoakimmie @pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @lichellaw @dandycandy75 @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @dolceandchalamet

[elenatria]

God bless you for your Pacho story! I hope you keep being inspired to write fluff, hurt, comfort, smut, vodka dad and puppy stuff

Thank you, darling, thank you so much for your wishes, it’s all I need. <3

I’ve written some of that and guess what, now it’s time for VODKA MOM. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407543/chapters/50615828

Dusk found Garo sitting on his barrel outside tent 181, the air that played with his hair filling his nostrils with the scent of pine and dirt. He was peeling an apple with his pocket knife, grateful that he was alive to see another day come to an end as he gazed lazily at the light on the tents going orange, then indigo, then blue. He had driven off with a different group of hunters that morning and had shared his kolbasa with a couple of newcomers, scrawny Belarussian boys with barely-there whiskers and a dreadful sense of humour. He had tried to laugh with their scarce and pitiful jokes, one of them even reminded him of Igor, but after a while he gave up on any attempt at a conversation and pretended that he was deaf in one ear and stubbornly Armenian in the other.

Having no one to talk to (or talk his ears off) he made daisy garlands for the rest of the day, cleaned his rifle, opened a can of beans and carved a dog out of a piece of wood he had found next to the pit where they buried the animals they had brought in the truck. He figured he could give the toy to Pavel (it was quite detailed and he always took pride in his wooden miniatures) but he feared that even that small gesture could bring tears to the Cub’s eyes. Pavel didn’t have any use for fake animals, he reckoned, all he wanted was to not have to kill any real ones for weeks on end and no miniature could ever compensate for that.

Still, he had to give the toy to someone.

Igor would have appreciated it.

Blonde, blue-eyed, cupid-like Igor.

He let out a deep thoughtful sigh; he still remembered the day Pavel arrived in their tent, fresh-faced and ignorant in his baggy civilian clothes, pale and fragile as porcelain. Had he not mentioned his age, had he not appeared in a camp meant for boys dreaming of becoming men, Garo would have easily mistaken him for a student. All he was missing was a stack of books and ink stains on his bitten-off nails.

Garo felt a cheeky smile blooming on his lips as he remembered someone’s first reaction: that Georgian asshole jolted out of his cot the moment he heard a young voice, lighting a cigarette before even shaking the boy’s hand, like a man in a bar checking out the cute newcomer. Garo had clicked his tongue at Bacho’s eagerness (had he not learned?) and he would have shaken his head in disapproval if he wasn’t certain he’d get a smack  in the head.  

But that was before he got to know Pavel, before he saw him around Bacho.

For all his timidity, Pavel had instantly shown with a side glance his disdain for smoke, the same look he had when he caught Bacho smoking a joint over the fire a few nights ago. Garo had also noticed the Kiev-born newcomer wincing at Bacho’s long and tight handshake, childlike fingers being crushed by the veteran’s inexplicable enthusiasm.

Maybe Bacho wanted to correct the wrongs of the past with Pavel, give himself a second chance.

He hadn’t been the same since his last mistake. Not that Garo cared for his welfare or his cries of agony long after everyone had fallen asleep, but it was hard not to notice the wrinkles around his eyes deepening after Igor’s death. When the Cub arrived, there were no more cries waking Garo in the middle of the night; maybe Bacho had gotten used to the idea that he was partly responsible for Igor’s death.

Or maybe it was Pavel, the Ukrainian youth who had been sent to join them in their journey to a slow torturous death. What was that boy thinking when he enlisted? Perhaps nothing at all.

Bacho seemed overly enthusiastic though. Whenever Garo saw his eyes sparkle with rage (or an unhealthy amount of curiosity) he knew something was up; he knew he was in for a treat whether it was a session of bloody fisticuffs or the drunken confession of deeply hidden longing with a pinch of ugly crying on his shoulder.

They had done this before, Garo reading Bacho like an open book and Bacho denying everything before spewing it all out over a bottle of vodka. Strangely enough, the Georgian hadn’t told him a word about Pavel. Perhaps he was getting better at this.

Still, not good enough for Garo’s keen eyes.

He sucked on a slice of his apple listening to the roaring engine of a truck coming to a stop. Had the lover of daisies and wooden miniatures missed them, the Asshole and the Cub? Maybe he had, just a little. Not that he’d ever admit that to the Asshole but the two of them were the closest he had to a family in that camp. He still had a mother to send letters to and a girl who liked to brag to the neighbours about her cheap engagement ring, but neither of them would ever know what it was like to kill animals that ran to them for food, only to get a bullet in the head because some idiots had blown up a reactor in a town they had never heard of.

Pavel and Bacho knew that feeling all too well.

Nothing could bring people together like war, Garo pondered.

Steps dragging through the mud pulled him out of the dark meanders of his mind; Bacho and the boy had just come back from their unusually long ride to the dirty villages. The two of them exchanged a glance and a swift nod before Pavel, his pale face blank as ever, strode hastily past Garo who couldn’t help noticing a barely noticeable limp in his step. When Pavel came back he sat down carefully, knees bending like an old man with arthritis, lips tight, and poured some vodka into his cup. 

Bacho was just as silent as Pavel, a fact that alarmed the Armenian who was used to putting up with the Asshole’s lame jokes, his speeches and gratuitous insults whenever they sat down for a drink, a smoke or a bite. The Bacho he knew would always fill the void with his incessant blabbering, more often than not lecturing him on politics and women.

But this wasn’t the Bacho he knew.

Something was off, something Garo couldn’t put his finger on. He narrowed his eyes peering through the dark, inspecting them inch by inch until he settled on their hat pins: Pavel’s was round like his own and Bacho was wearing the Soviet star. It would all be perfectly fine (and Garo would have shaken off the thought that had been bugging him ever since he had overheard them whispering in the dark of their tent) if Pavel was wearing the hat with the star.

Instead he was wearing the hat from Afghanistan.

Bacho’s hat.

One more time Garo peeked at his comrade, then the boy, turning his head from one to the other, blinking, chewing slowly like a stupefied cow, trying to figure out if he was imagining things. Pavel kept silent as usual taking sips from his cup and wincing every time vodka slid down his throat while Bacho took long drags from his cigarette puffing out the smoke casually, looking anywhere but into Garo’s eyes.

The Armenian glared at them both. Since neither of them seemed willing to start a conversation (or at least explain where the fuck they had been since morning), he raised his brows and let out a resigned sigh shoving a huge juicy slice into his mouth.

So they were there. So they had crossed that line.

He shrugged to himself.

Whatever, said part of him.

Finally, said the other part.

He munched his apple as words got mixed in his tongue forming nothing but a half-hearted yet distinguishable mumble.

“About fucking time...”

He didn’t raise his head, he didn’t have to; it was enough to hear Pavel’s breath catch and picture Bacho responding with a panicked look as the cigarette slipped from his lips and landed on the mud between paralyzed feet.

What total idiots.

Garo rested his forearms on his knees leaning forward to conceal a chuckle that was threatening to burst out of his chest like a volcano.

They were trying to hide from him.

The nerve.

“Shut the fuck up, Garo,” Bacho grunted warningly through gritted teeth.

“But I didn’t say anything,” Garo half complained trying hard not to roll on the ground, giggling until he ran out of breath.

“Exactly,” Bacho groaned fixing a dark gaze on him. “Keep it that way.”

[overdorklord]

🍹 >;3

[Send me 🍹 for a short fanfic/headcanon of our muses  With short, we mean in my dreams. Headcanon first though.]

Overlord wants Lobe to feel loved an appreciated and so he calls him often to his ship, so he can stay with him and his Doctor. Would want to ask if he’s interested in just staying and be part of their family... but isn’t sure if he wants to force Lobe to abandon his home, his universe.

Right place, wrong time.

Yellow optics. Pale cheeks. Grey armor.

That wasn’t the Overlord everyone knew for being the strong and indestructible Decepticon warrior. He wasn’t the unstoppable Phase Sixer, that protective and brave mech that shielded his companions from missiles and bombs with his own huge frame. He wasn’t even the only mech who survived the horrors of Garrus-9, who then returned into that nightmare to release all his fellow prisoners.This wasn’t the Overlord the Decepticons loved and that Autobots despised. Not yet at least.This young duocon wasn’t even aware of what he would have became, when the fragile order of his world would have finally snapped. So innocent and hopeful, he couldn’t even imagine there was a fire in the distance, he couldn’t even see the smoke. This mech didn’t even know of the existence of the word “Decepticons”. His bright yellow optics dimmed and staring down the staircase, focusing on a couple of gladiators making their way to the corridor leading to the arena. His grey frame, ruined with scratches, dents. But the strong smell of fresh plating still attached to it betrayed its look. A youngling. He couldn’t have tricked anyone even with a thousands of scars. Constructed cold, but that didn’t change anything.

Above the shoulders and around his back, he had painted these long yellow and black lines, similar to those miners used to wear. He was no miner, however. He was a gladiator. The last detail and yet the most impossible to notice was the huge “0.1%” written roughly over his back. The paint dripped down and it was left to dry like that, never got fixed. Anything about his look made this mech seem dangerous… as if anyone responsible for his creation wanted to make sure anyone knew they were going to deal with something that could be easily considered a danger.  

Truth was, Overlord wasn’t a monster. He was a big mech, but he was still learning to fight, he didn’t even want to do it. But with an ember like his, certain precautions were necessary. No Point One Percenters could go around without making everyone know what kind of energy burnt inside their chamber. Enforcers had to know right away if a mech as dangerous as them was around.That was what the senate’s law said at least. The young Overlord had a very… tired look on his pale faceplates. He was sitting there on the ground, legs dangling down and servos holding onto the railing, making him look like a mechanical in a cage. His optics offline for a moment before a vent was let out and his left servo reached an old and dirty datapad he’s been hiding with his huge legs.With the data pad, came to view a candy… a rust stick. Such a tiny snack in those servos, it was even hard to notice. The mech however, slid it through his plush lips and held it there, probably trying to make it last as much as possible instead of biting down in it.It was clear from a look around this arena that life conditions weren’t high. Pretty much like anything in Kaon. Certain things never changed, not even in alternate realities it seemed!When the grey mech finally realized someone has been silently watching him, was just because of the reflection in the ruined black glass of the data pad he was holding. His optics opened wide, while his EM field became a confused mix of fear and anxiety!The treat got pulled inside his mouth quickly with a swift movement of the glossa.Surely he was expecting someone that wouldn’t have liked to see him sitting there.Anyway, it was also clear that the mech he found himself staring at wasn’t who he feared to see while turning around. The expression relaxed visibly at first, optics shining with a dimmer light again, but then his whole helm tilted to the side. Curiosity and stupor leaking into his field.Every movement and behavior of his made this Overlord look… small. He was huge damn it, but he kept behaving as if he was tiny.«Where… where are your danger signs?» was the first question he asked to this tall copper colored mech, with tired golden optics.Tired… but dripping some sort of amazement.This young duocon…! Lobe remembered the day he met the opposite of the monster who ruined his and Trepan’s lives. Pink, soft, gentle… but this?Not many thing surprised the old mnemosurgeon anymore. Alternate realities hardly surprised him even the first time he came to know about their existence. Not because he was a cold and numb creature, simply… he happened to live so long and so many terrible situations that he was sure nothing was ever going to be new to him.Not that he was surprised now. Maybe a little confused. He… needed to meet Overlord, yes. And he did. Yet, something went wrong it seemed. The shattered Decepticon Third in command must have made a mistake, leading him to the right mech, but in the wrong time. This Overlord was… he was-The pink Sixer always talked about being constructed just a few decades before the war started. And… it seemed there was no war at the moment. Oh… Oh stars above. He was practically no older than twenty years old. Twenty!What did he even ask? Lobe found himself unable to stop staring into those young optics. Yellow too. He had no idea Overlord’s optics were yellow originally.«What?» he eventually replied. Not sure he even listened carefully to the other.«… your… danger signs.» the younger mech pulled his legs up, crossing them and sitting there, now very interested into this new tall bot who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He then passed a digit quickly over his own yellow and black stripes to make him understand what he meant.It was a weird question to ask. The mnemosurgeon was sure that “where are your danger signs” wasn’t the kind of question one asked to someone they met for the very first time. «I never had them»This somehow only made the other more curious and.. shocked even!«Never? But… you’re a Point One Percenter. Like me! We must wear them.»Wear… the danger signs for being a Point One Percenters? And… no, he wasn’t. How did he get this idea? «I really am not.»«N-no? But your optics…»Suddenly the shock and curiosity turned into fear once again. «H-how come the Senate didn’t have you arrested yet? Y-you changed optic color to yellow even if you’re not a 0.1?? It’s… It’s illegal! If they find you, they’ll hurt you.»Hm. He was starting to understand. Apparently here… Optic color was important. Point One Percenters being the only ones allowed to have them that color… probably forced to. «Quick!» Overlord was fast to stand up and reach over to one of his servos «we must do something before the enforcers will spot you…! Are you a spectator? A… doctor?» Lobe had no idea what these questions had anything to do with optics…«A kind of doctor.» somehow… that answer made Overlord understand he was a mnemosurgeon. In fact, he looked down at the servo he held and carefully moved his own away from both digits and palm, grabbing onto the wrist instead. Then he was running along with the younger mech, they went down the corridor, almost jumped down stairs until they approached the exit «Remember, keep your gaze low! Don’t look at anyone in the optics and—»«The day shift is not over yet for you, Overlord.»A voice from their right had both mechs stopping where they were, frozen. Lobe dared to stare in the direction for just an instant. He seemed to be an enforcer. Black, completely black if not for the “danger signs” over the shoulders. Not yellow optics visible on him however… there was a dark visor covering everything and letting out just the mouth, pressed in a thin line. Those long horns though… Was that…?«Black!» The grey gladiator sounded relieved.  Black Shadow?? An enforcer? That criminal— ah. Right.«Listen listen… this doctor had someone making a stupid prank on him, look!»The black mech took a step closer and approached the old mnemosurgeon. «A dangerous joke I’d say, rather than stupid. Plus… whoever did this happened to play around with his colors as well» Colors? Doctors couldn’t be this color neither?? The enforcer pulled back «How did this happen?»«I’ve no idea but don’t you think it’s better if… If we have him fix them before…?»«Before what? You know he can’t have them fixed so easily»The grey mech let out a nervous whimper «Oh please Black Shadow… if you arrest him, they’ll end up accusing him.» He brought his servos together, digits wrapping against each other «Please please please… not all enforcers are merciful��!»Lobe had no idea what to expect from this dialogue… but saying he wasn’t ready to fight for not getting arrested, he was ready. As if they would have managed to catch him. It didn’t seem necessary though.Black Shadow turned around, giving a quick look down the street. It was now that the mnemosurgeon spotted the same yellow “0.1%” written on his back. The font was different though… it made it look like someone wanted it to look like a cut, drawn with something sharp, pointy edges and thin lines.«Overlord, you won’t hear me saying yes. Understood?» the other mech sighed, looking back at the two and raising his black visor, revealing two yellow optics underneath, warm despite his cold and nervous tone. «Now go.» he added, while moving his gaze from them to the street.«Thank you Black!» Overlord murmured before running into the city’s streets just a moment after the enforcer lowered the visor and turned around, pretending not to see.

They reached an university… an university where Overlord studied medicine  it seemed. There were other courses… however, everything seemed very… very poor. This was Kaon after all. Lobe had no idea why he was brought here, but everything became clear when the grey mech sneaked in a room. An empty room.It was the professors room… and, if this was an university where they taught medicine.«Here we go! » Overlord pulled out of a drawer a green visor and swiftly passed it to  Lobe «I’m sure the prof. won’t get mad. He had at least three in there!» Look at the young mech. He looked so happy «Now, you’re a doctor… I’m sure you know someone you can trust, some of your colleagues… tell them to change your optic color back to green, don’t take the visor off though or else they’l spot you before you can—»Suddenly, footsteps. Coming from the door. «Oh nope!» The young gladiator was fast to reach the other exit and leave, while the mnemosurgeon remained there, busy trying to fix the visor over his optics. He could hear rambling and a door hissing open. But his surprise was even bigger when h turned around and found himself in front of a… a-«Fragging glitches, calling me here… with all the cities, here…! When will they learn that I don’t agree with any of their repair suggestions. Especially if they suggest to repair another forged “criminal”. Sick bastards—»«Tre-Trepan—??»Trepan did in fact raise his helm and met Lobe’s optics, shielded by green glass.He was… the blue Trepan, it was him. But… everything seemed- it…His color scheme terribly similar to the one mech he knew and loved for so many years, just the amber colored plating painted in that light blue, while the golden lenses and optics … not red, but a shade of aquamarine. The way he talked too! He… he talked. He was talking…«Lobe!» he answered, placing both servos his his hips. He noticed he had no mask neither. Why- How did he change… so much. What the? It was the Autobots, huh? Look how much they transformed him…«What in the Pit happened to your colors?? I thought you would left me dealing with those crazy enforcers even now we’re leaving. Was have you been doing? Exploring this university or going to change paint job?» He reached a pair of goggles left in one of the drawers and placed them back up over his helm.  «I don’t blame you, you’ve no idea how crazy they are… insisting to have us teach those students basic “repairs” are we crazy?? As if mnemosurgery could be used to punish those poor discriminated embers…»He opened the door to leave and… the mnemosurgeon saw… someone that looked like a mirror. A mirror with wrong colors. He was fast to press the door panel and make it shut immediately.«Trepan— who were you taking to? W…who was that?» The tiny mech tilted his helm, looking up at the white and blue Lobe in front of himself and jumping lightly «Wh…?? But I.. how did you get out of there before me? What’s with you today?»«I never went there, I just.. found you now, I was busy discussing with a couple of enforcers who insisted again on the “correction” topic»The little mnemosurgeon turned around and smashed the door panel, jumping back inside the room. If Lobe was here… who did he talk with before?? No one. There was no one.Where… did he imagine everything? «Huh… I thought there was someone here who looked like you.»«So… did I, honestly.»Trepan raised an optic ridge but just shrugged and left, for the second time.The young gladiator sneaked back in from the other door, looking around. And going on alert when he heard muffled voices from the other side, recognizing at least the one of the old copper colored mech «You saw yourself inside the room, really?»«I don’t know what I saw, it must have been the reflection. You too though!»«I am probably just exhausted, you know?»«Ah.» Overlord told himself «He left and already found one of his colleagues apparently». He then vented out, looking on the floor. «and I didn’t even ask him his name… nor I told him mine, how rude of me.» But he was glad he did a good thing, today. Helping that mech!

The Shattered Decepticon third in Command couldn’t have picked a better moment to fix the mistake he made and pulling Lobe back to the present, in the right place and time. In fact, he found himself being teleported in the pink Sixer’s ship. He looked around… and were they were. The mechs from before…Overlord was smiling, sitting over a berth and standing up now to go greet his friend. While the little Doc… there, on the chair, with legs pulled over the chest  and silently staring in his direction. Oh… oh how much he changed. It was almost painful… Just a second ago he saw him speaking, from what he heard even managing to argue with enforcers and standing his ground. Now…He almost wished he could go there and hug him, but knew better than to touch the traumatized mech.He turned towards Overlord instead, anticipating him and wrapping his arms around him… giving the Sixers a big hug, tail wrapping around the mech’s legs to hod him closer «Oh, Lobe? Are you ok?» the pink mech asked, still sweet… still caring and thinking about others’ safety right away.«Overlord, please… Don’t ever change.»

[justsomenarutobs]

Hiiii! 😊💖 If it's okay, may I request some HCs gor Kisame, Kakuzu and Gaara with a female S/O who's usually shy, soft and loves cutesy things like flowers and animals, but one day they get in real danger and she saves them, showing off her shocking strength? Hope it's not too weird of a request hehe! Have a great day! And some pretty flowers 😊🌸🌹🌺

Kisame, Kakuzu and Gaara With A Secretly Strong Female S/O

Hello my love! This is the CUTEST REQUEST STYLE EVER how could I not write this! It is always ok to send in requests especially ones like this! It’s really nice to get creative requests for some of my favorite characters *Between you and me, Kakuzu is one of my favorites to write for but damn do I love all 3 of these men!* Honestly I was too excited to do this! Have a fantastic day my lovely anon-N💛

Masterlist

Kisame

 Since Kisame is such a rough and tumble person having a shy more girly S/O will compliment him well. He absolutely loves having a cutesy girlfriend because it’s like an escape from his usual brutal lifestyle however because of her demeanor he’s much more protective over her than he usually would be thinking that if his S/O is shy to normal conversations then there’s no way she would be able to defend herself in a fight(little does he know). So with that his S/O can almost always expect Kisame to keep a gentle grip on her waist or hand not only to keep track of her but to be able to completely pull her body into his if danger arises.

 As for her hobbies Kisame will take interest in anything she likes so if she’s into flowers/gardening he’s out there with a little apron helping dig holes for the flower pods(yes he’s whipped let him be happy lmao) Really likes the praise that comes from helping out and is extremely strong so he has no problems carrying all the fertilizer/mulch. When it comes to the animals Kisame doesn’t mind them although he probably won’t be that inclined to play with them but he absolutely adores watching his adorable girlfriend rolling around with puppies or kittens that’s actually his phone background

 Like it says above Kisame is very protective of his girlfriend so when they’re coming back home from a swim and a masked assailant jumps out of nowhere screaming how he’s going to take out some Akatsuki scum Kisame instantly pushes his girlfriend to the side telling them to stay back. At first his S/O does just that but when she spots 2 more assailants about to sneak attack Kisame SHE LOSES IT. Instantly she leaps into action taking them both out with ease Kisame had already finished his opponent off as he watched the act take place. To say he’s shocked is an understatement “How the hell did SHE of all people take out those guys twice her size????” Confused but turned on. Honestly he’s the quickest to recover from shock but that’s only because excitement takes over instead

 Questioning everything he knows about his girlfriend both internally and externally like “how did I not know that my girlfriend was an ass kicking machine after being in a relationship so long???” Although he quickly reels in his questions before checking her over to make sure she didn’t injury herself at all. Tbh Kisame won’t bring it up or ask any questions unless his S/O wants to talk about their training. He’s just happy that he doesn’t have to worry AS MUCH about them

Kakuzu

 For Kakuzu having a very girly S/O is unnerving to say the least as he thinks anything he says will hurt her feelings so he tends to be even more quiet than his usual few words while yes he often comes off as inconsiderate he truly doesn’t want his girlfriend to unhappy especially not because of him. He also tends to be gently with a shy cutesy person he knows in the back of his mind that they aren’t fragile but he honestly can’t help himself from treating her like fine china even in the bedroom which is a big change for the usual non caring extremely rough lover Kakuzu is. On top of all that there is one thing he keeps the same in any relationship: His Possessiveness. This man does NOT like being out of the loop on where his S/O is or what they doing at any second these feelings come from the idea that he doesn’t want anything “stolen” from him

 He does like her hobby of gardening as it tends to be cheaper than most other hobbies out there and it can actually bring in resources such a fruits and vegetables saving even more money(and he’ll never admit it but he also loves the flowers because it makes for a calm scenery so he can attempt to shut his mind down/wind down from his travels). As for the animals he really doesn’t like them they’re costly, noisy,messy and requires too much energy for him but as long as his girlfriend keeps the animals away from him and his possessions then he’ll settle only to keep his S/O from being sad I’m telling y’all his girlfriend has him wrapped around her finger...if only she knew 

 Kakuzu’s girlfriend knows about his “career” of hunting down targets from his bingo book so she’s not surprised when he tells her that he’s going to capture a target but what does come as a surprise is when he urges her to get out of the surrounding area as quick as she can. Literally right after he issues the warning 3 men come jumping out of the forest one in the middle being protected by the other two. Of course Kakuzu isn’t worried about the numbers as soon as the first 2 launch at him he begins to take them out. Everything is going to plan till the main guy/leader takes in interest into Kakuzu’s girlfriend before Kakuzu can get over to her his S/O’s whole demeanor flips as she effortlessly dodges every swing following up by punching his nose into his body then pinning him down to the ground all in a swift movement 

 KAKUZU.IS.SHOOK in every single one of his relationships he’s never seen such power especially not from such a fragile, sweet young women! Is quite annoyed that he didn’t know about this strength asking his girlfriend just when were they going to disclose that they were extremely capable of taking care of themselves. Not actually angry at his girlfriend just a bit frustrated but it soon fades when he realizes that they just attempted to help him and succeed at taking down a target with a big bounty! He actually praises her and ruffles her hair like he’s quite impressive which is hard to do (I mean like instant nut on the spot lol) but overall he’s quite happy at the discovery cutting down on his protection but not his possessiveness....that’s forever 

Gaara

 A sweet,shy and cute girlfriend? Sign him the hell up! It’s literally a match made in heaven as to what he likes and what will mesh well with him. To be completely honest Gaara need some sweetness in his life so he soaks it all up even if it’s just a good morning kiss Gaara is damn there weak in the knees. He 100% understands that not everyone is like his best friend, Naruto, including himself so if his S/O is shy he will never tease them or push them to be more social however due to his girlfriend being shy it actually causes Gaara to come out his shell fast since he doesn’t ever want his partner to be in an uncomfortable situation therefore he tends to talk for her or ask for all the things she wants not realizing that he wouldn’t usually do so much speaking lol 

 Not only is his girlfriend sweet and cute she likes gardening too?!?! Where has she been his whole life! They have matching aprons and gloves that Gaara blushes about every time he puts his on or sees his girlfriend in hers. While Gaara has a preference for cacti, since they survive easily in sunas heat, he has no qualms about planting other things especially if his girlfriend prefers the pretty flowers so he has a greenhouse specifically build to regulate the temperature so her plants thrive no matter the environment. Animals like Gaara and Gaara likes animals so that hobby isn’t a deal breaker either as long as the animals are healthy with mild temperaments(although I feel like Gaara prefers the cats lol i don’t know why)

 Being the Kazekage is commonly associated with death more specifically assassination as every Kazekage has met an untimely death do to an successful assassination attempt. Almost everyone in suna knows of this including Gaara’s girlfriend so when they’re out eating lunch she takes the death threat thrown at Gaara seriously. Soon she intercepts every single Kunai thrown his direction and takes out the assailant before Gaara or even the guards could do anything. Every guard and Gaara are stunned into silence as to how such a mild, shy little lady could transform! 

 Honestly Gaara just falls even more in love as he just witnessed someone he loves defending him with extreme precision and he’s just so proud of his girlfriend. Instantly pulls her into a tight hug telling her that as much as he appreciates her protecting him, he would be devastated if she got injured or worse killed because of him so he asks her not to jump in the middle of danger for him again of course she’s not gonna agree but I digress after giving her a small lighthearted talk Gaara actually initiates their first ever public kiss not breaking it no matter how many eyes fall on them

[bangtantannie]

Inchoate (Sequel to Stuck)

 Word Count: 1.1 K 

Genre: Angst? Fluff? Something between that.

A/N: Helloooo! This is part two to my first piece called Stuck. You have no idea how ecstatic I was to see the response to Stuck turn out so well. So here, in a kind of sequel of sorts, and I might be planning on a third part? I hope I did Stuck justice with this sequel. 

I recommend listening to Brian Joo’s Let This Die (English or Korean whichever you like) or BTS Jin’s Epiphany while you read. :)

Don’t be afraid reply, ask, or message me your thoughts! Enjoy~~~

Her world had become gray, but that was long before he left her. She just hadn’t realized until then. The vibrant hues of her friends’ laughter had been one of the first to fade, but it was also one of the first to return to her monotone spectrum. The brilliant shades of familial contact had also been something that had faded but readily revived the instant she allowed it. But by far, the hardest thing was to recover the soft tint of her identity.

News of the split spread like rapid fire when he was caught holding hands with her. By then she had already shut herself in, shutting out the reporters that waited outside of her apartment building to document her reaction to the split. Fans of their relationship left comments of comfort on social media, having fallen in love with her personality and wishing her a swift recovery. They too had noticed the drastic change she went through and seemed to realize why it was that she had changed so much over the course of almost half a year.

You can get through this.

Take your time.

We will support you.

Once they caught wind of the news, friends and family immediately started reaching out, knowing that this split had absolutely devastated her.

How are you?

Are you okay?

We’re here for you.

Countless days were spent lying on the bed, walking through the pictures and memories of the relationship in search of the intangible thing that had been stolen from her. Nights were spent with nightmares of failing to meet expectations or a life where he never left. Countless tears were shed day and night, awake and asleep. Meals were skipped since she couldn’t even muster the energy to lift her head from his pillow.

There were times when a question popped up in her head and turned in the bed, expecting him to be there – loving gaze and all. There were times she could almost smell the cologne he put on every morning before leaving for work. There were times she almost swore she heard his laughter coming from the other room.

Weeks later she finally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Soulless, sunken eyes returned her gaze, a pale complexion caused by the lack of sunlight and proper nutrition, bone structures that lie prominent in unflattering manners, and a perpetual frown on her face. Seeing the shell that she had become for the first time, she finally had it in her to start the search for herself.

First, she started with getting out of bed during the day, followed by leaving the bedroom and venturing to other parts of the apartment. Then she started opening blinds and curtains to let in the light. Then, she opened the door for her friends, who had made sure to visit every day in hopes of being let in. Then she started answering her family’s phone calls, reassuring them that she was going to be okay.

It’s been hard for her.

She’s been getting by.

She’s not alone.

With encouragement, she returned to eating consistently, no longer skipping meals to maintain her alarmingly thin figure, even going as far as to treat herself when she feels particularly lost. With the promise of being accompanied, she was coaxed into leaving the confines of her apartment to catch a breath of fresh air. Her friends dd their best to keep her as far away as social media as possible, going out of their ways to take longer routes to parks just to avoid televisions being displayed through shop windows, because they were surely documenting every single moment of her ventures outside the apartment walls.

One step forward was followed with half a step back. Every pen, pot, plant, and everything in between came with a memory. Every time her head turned she saw him eating at the table, sitting on the couch, reading a book, standing in front of the stove. Every night she dreamed of his arms embracing her tightly, his lips kissing her softly, his soothing voice whispering sweet words. Every time she turned on the radio her heart clenched when his voice carried through the speakers. Every knock on the door lead to her stomach dropping when she realized it wasn’t him on the other side. Every second she was left with her thoughts, his promises replayed in her mind on an endless loop.

His feelings would never change.

He’ll always be there.

He loves her.

There were days she snuck back onto social media, reliving the news of the split, catching up on what the media has covered in the allotted time. Fans of her fought hard to protect her fragile reputation. Fans of him celebrated his “upgrade”.

He finally realized he could do better.

She doesn’t deserve this.

He’s making a mistake.

It’s her fault.

If being able to step out of the shared apartment required weeks of patience, it took even longer for her to be convinced to leave the apartment for good. Too many good memories would be left behind, and even more mementos were to be abandoned for him to pick up the remnants of their relationship, because she had yet to find the fragments of herself.

It started with getting out of the country, exploring the places she only dreamed of visiting. She felt the weight of the public eye slowly relieve the slump in her shoulders, for no one knew who she was on the other side of the Earth. She wasn’t his bland, tasteless, average ex-girlfriend. She was just a woman, a simple human trying to make something of herself in this big, yet very small world. 

The ache in her chest eased slightly when she moved in with a friend that had an empty room. With the weakened onslaught of memories haunting her, she found it in her to resume pursuing her passion. Soon, she started venturing out on her own, indulging herself with the occasional baked good, the walk at the park, performances by people on the street hoping to make a quick buck or simply share a passion of their own with innocent passersby. Then came appreciating the small things, smiling at the stranger passing by, greeting the security guard, wishing the cashier a good day.

Her friends watched the soulless shell grow into the woman that was thought to be lost, but stronger, more mature, and experienced. They watched as her bony figure started to fill out at a healthy rate. Her pale complexion returned to the lovey hues she once possessed. The light in her eyes regained its initial brightness. The frown became the angelic smile that was formerly etched on her face.

Her self-depreciating thoughts were lost to the volume of her strong, empowering opinions. Self-loathing became self-appreciation. Dwelling in the past turned into working for a better future. Diffidence changed into confidence. Cowardice became determination.

She is beautiful.

She is strong.

She will be okay.

Slowly, but surely, her once drab world started to fill with color once again, one shade at a time.

Prev: Stuck                                                                                       Next: Lament

[otak-me]

CONSTELLATIONS CHAPTER 6: ARA

CONSTELLATIONS INDEX

CHAPTER 5: AQUILA

LOKI'S FACE SCRUNCHED UP IN DISGUST, “I am a God, you said so yourself, and my body is not as fragile as your tiny mortal body is. You wouldn’t even be able to handle my weigh-”

His thought was cut off by the pale woman bending over and scooping him up into her arms ‘bridal style’ in a smooth, swift motion.

His eyes widened in shock, and the silver eyes of Valentina rolled in their sockets, her be parallel with the stairs, as to not smack his head or long limbs into the walls.

Loki's jaw clenched to hold back his shock, not willing to withdraw his statement to readily, in fear of seeming inferior to the woman carrying him up the winding stairs.

Her footing was light as she ascended the staircase, and the silence that laced the air around the two was thick with tension.

Loki's eyes scanned the bookshelves that lined the walls of the staircase, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as to why she would own so many- mind you, he would not question owning this many books himself, perse, but it seemed that he wasn't of the norm when it came to studious tendencies.

Was she also perhaps an intellect?

Although, there was no way she could be on any level as his in terms of intellect, as her feeble mortal brain would only uphold a certain amount of elasticity for a pinprick amount of time in comparison to his hundreds of thousands of years.

His mind grew smug for a moment of the thought of him being of a higher intellectual and physical stature than her tiny, mortal self, but the feeling was sharply cut off by the woman shifting him in her arms to pull down the handle of the door to the spare bedroom.

He once again realised that he was, in fact, being carried by the 'feeble mortal', and that she had the upperhand in this situation, so he should hold his tongue in terms of snide comments for now.

The door to the spare bedroom's door opened silently, the hinges obviously upkept and oiled regularly, and Valentina walked towards the bed, slipping the large man from her petite arms in a smooth motion that almost seemed unnatural.

His body landed softly on the bed, but even such a feather-light landing caused his body to scream at him in pain.

He winced subconsciously, instantaneously scolding himself for giving her the upperhand that he was still in pain.

Valentina's eyes softened considerably once she observed his reaction, but he was not in the position to observe her reaction back, as his pain had clouded his mind a tad, and he was absentmindedly observing the room. He hummed appreciatively in his mind at the sight of a bookshelf lined with aplenty of literature at the far wall of the room.

The silver-haired woman's voice wound his mind up into a defensive coil, like a cat with it's hackles raised and tail stiffly flexed, he darted his eyes over to her, "I'll prepare some bandages for you, but you'll need to take off your shirt first."

She furrowed her brows slightly in concern, her dark hairs contrasting with her almost pearlescent skin and emphasizing her features more, "Or should I take it off for you?"

Loki's eyes narrowed in irritation at her behaviour, and his subconscious hissed in contempt at the thought of her pink fingertips running across his flesh, and despite the fact that he knew it would be absolute Hel to take off his shirt himself, he grit his teeth, "I am fine in assisting myself."

The woman pursed her lips slightly, then nodded, relaxing her face and turning towards the door, walking to the frame and going to close it.

Before she did so she spoke, "Well, once you're done, call out. I'll be ready with the bandages in a minute,"

She then allowed the door to click shut quietly, shrouding the room in silence, the soft patter of rain filling the air with a serene atmosphere, the creak of the floorboards beneath Valentina's weight being the only other sign that he was not alone in the house.

Loki closed his eyes softly, his head starting to throb slightly as a sign of an impending headache, and his lungs trembled slightly as he breathed, twitching unpleasantly every so often, giving him the sensation of the muscles popping around his ribcage.

Why had his so called 'family' bestowed this punishment upon him?

He would have preferred to just rot in the corner of an Asgardian cell for the rest of his days, with the other criminals that the dungeons hid so well.

Of course they wouldn't allow him that.

He was a monster, they made sure that that much was obvious to him.

They placed him within the realm that he had attempted to conquer, where he was treated as much less than a murderer, monster and psychopath.

He would be treated as less than dirt in the eyes of the ones that he saw as so inferior, and would never be able to lay his gaze upon the breathtaking moons of Asgarðr, or spend hours upon hours simply getting lost in the palace library that he named more of a bedroom than the room assigned as his quarters.

He was going to be stepped on like an ant, and the entirety of the human race was the boot.

A quiet knock sounded through the room, the velvety voice of Valentina muffled through the door, "Loki? Are you done with removing your shirt?"

Loki's conscious mind did not process her voice, although it seemed to pick up on her presence, which drew him to the thought of the woman not ten metres away.

Although, that woman is not exactly playing to the role of boot as of yet.

She knows that Loki had murdered many in her realm, yet she seems to be completely unperturbed by the thought.

No, she was most definitely going to use Loki's emotions to give him the most painful experience possible. After all, isn't that what everyone else had done?

During Loki's small daydream, Valentina had been leaning against the door, and after hearing no reply but silence from inside the room, she became concerned for him, "Well, I'm coming in now. Please don't be dead."

She opened the door quietly to find Loki to be in exactly the same position as she had left him; on his back, and staring into space.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in annoyance, and she paced over to him, standing over his form and startling him from his dreamlike stupor, "Loki! It has been over an hour! Why haven't you removed your shirt yet?"

The man's emerald green eyes snapped open wide, and he sat up in shock, instant regret clouding his mind as pain streaked through his core.

He winced visibly, and Valentina's eyes softened, her lips pursing in pity.

Loki caught her pitying look and he growled, "Do not pity me, mortal. I am a god! I am-" The woman cut him off, "Can you take off your shirt?"

He stopped, and narrowed his eyes, hissing out, "Yes, I can take off my shirt." The silver haired woman nodded, "Then please do. We need to treat your wounds before they become even worse in state."

The male's jaw clenched, the muscle protruding slightly, and his arms found their way to the green shirt, his fingers wrapping lightly around the hem of the shirt.

He tugged up, his shoulders groaning in strain, but he bit his tongue in silence, exhaling through his nose, before continuing, the higher up he brought his arms the more they fought back with pain.

Finally, after a gruelling five minutes, he managed to pull the cloth from his body. Slightly out of breath, a thin sheen of sweat creating a shine on his forehead, he lay back down, whining out in pain as his body shook in rejection to seemingly just existing as a whole.

Valentina sighed as he slid his eyes closed in exhaustion, unhappy that her house guest was experiencing such a thing.

Shaking her head she leaned over him, "I am quickly going to assess your wounds, then I'll bandage and clean them accordingly."

Loki didn't seem to even have enough strength to nod his head, so he just grunted in acknowledgment.

She took this as the sign to go ahead, and so raised her hands over his stomach, the softly lowered them to make contact with his alabaster flesh.

It prickled uncomfortably under her touch, and Loki restrained himself from pulling away, knowing it would do more damage than good for now.

Valentina's eyes slid closed as her warm hands laid on the skin of his stomach, and her body seemed to tighten more the longer she held her hands in contact with him.

Valentina's body thrummed awake, something akin to a bear awakening from hibernation; slow and fatigued, as if she hadn't used it in years.

The first sensation she felt from her reaction to the flesh of Loki was the familiar tug of energy, although colder and lighter than usual energy, it was still humming around him like bees to a beehive.

It was a moderate amount, which was expected of an Asgardian prince well versed in magic, but something still felt off about it.

There seemed to be a cold sheen to it, as if it were being disconnected from Loki's body, drawn out almost.

It was a strange and very new sensation for Valentina, that's for sure.

What followed after the energy was pain.

Whole-body pain.

It burned flames into her bloodstream and cut into her skin, leaving her pores excreting sweat to alleviate the pain.

She sighed through her nose and closed her eyes tighter, mentally bracing herself for what was to come, then drew from him. She latched onto his aches, and pulled hard and fast.

It burned her mind, searing holes into her subconscious, but she pushed it away with the grit of her teeth, allowing her mind to calm, like a smoothing of a ripple on a still lake.

She continued to pull, suck, and draw from him, until she had felt the pain screech up her back, burrowing deep in to her bones, rocking her frame like a hammer on a cowbell.

It sent spirals of pain vibrating through her limbs, to the tips of her hair follicles, all the way back to her core.

This moment seemed to last forever, the agony of taking from Loki his suffering, but it ended within a minute to the observing eye.

She threw her hands away from Loki's torso, falling back onto her elbows, her body now trembling with aches akin to muscle use. She panted for a moment, a bead of sweat cascading down her forehead, then she collected herself.

Sitting up and pulling the first aid kid from her side, she prepared the necessary items to treat his wounds, now that she had a more intimate understanding of exactly how deep they went.

Loki's breathing became less rugged, and more even.

He had fallen asleep.

Good.

That makes it a whole lot easier to treat him.

And so the silver-eyed woman got to work, dabbing, soaking, wiping, pressing, wrapping.

It was all finished within an hour, and in the end, she fell back onto her elbows again, letting out a content and exhausted breath.

She gathered the medical supplies as quietly as she could, and crept out of the room, scared to wake the man, despite the fact she had not woken him up, even when dousing his wounds in alcohol.

The door softly clicked shut behind her, and she sighed in content.

CHAPTER 7: ARIES

Word count: 1966

[iiseroyama-remade]

Till Death Do Us Part

Hey I uhhhhh made a Camp Camp fic

If the link doesn’t work the story’s being put under the read more

"No offense Davey but this blows." Jasper rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm himself up as the three of them headed up the trail at different speeds. David swung his arms happily as he jogged ahead.

"Aww c'mon Jasp! What could be better than a midnight hike!" He responded with a smile brighter than the sun.

"A midnight sleep, thats what." From behind Jasper, the smaller blonde spoke with obvious discomfort in his voice. He was wearing his boyfriend's oversized jacket, making him look even tinier than he already was. "Forgive me David but I have to agree with Jasper here. Can't we go back home? Please?"

Oh no. He pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. David couldn't resist the puppy-dog eyes. OH NO. JASPER'S JOINED HIM. I REPEAT, STOP LOOKING AT YOUR ADORABLE BOYFRIENDS BEFORE THEY CONVINCE YOU. Avoiding eye-contact, David skipped along, trying to stay positive. He knew they wouldn't ditch him, no matter how badly they complained. As long as he kept going they would too. From behind, he could hear his boyfriends grumbling in annoyance. David knew that he was the only one to like nature in the relationship. As much as the redhead hated to admit it, Daniel had more in common with Jasper than he did when it came to things they disliked. This often resulted in David getting outvoted when it came to most activities. Every once in a while though he found himself able to convince them into doing something he enjoyed, even if they didn't.

A little farther down the trail, the two blondes dragged themselves over to David. "This is whack. Davey's never been able to handle our combined cuteness. He must've really wanted this." Jasper whispered, clearly shocked that the 'double-dog-takeout'(as he had coined it) didn't work. Next to him, Daniel let out a sigh of discontent.

"Yes well, either way I suppose we should just let him have this. He's obviously enjoying it. We shouldn't ruin this by complaining." From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jasper shivering. "Do you need this back? I'm warmer now." He said, pointing at the jacket. The taller man shook his head in response. "Are you sure? You're shaking." He nodded.

"I'm fine really. Moving gets the blood pumpin' after all!" He gave his boyfriend a gentle smile, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Daniel squinted at him in suspicion, but didn't say anything else. Jasper appreciated him for that. While David probably would've kept pushing him and might've even stopped the hike all together, Daniel was more calm and collected about things like this. Not to say Jasper didn't love it when David took care of him, he just preferred when someone didn't treat him like he was some fragile kid about to keel over any second. Taking the smaller blonde's hand in his, they made their way over to their boyfriend and ambushed him with a bear hug.

David squealed like a puppy as the two tackled him with love. They each knew each others weak spots, and the whole thing was just a fight of who could get to who's first.

Daniel used his smaller stature to his advantage, dodging David's attempt at kissing him and wrapping his arms around the redhead's neck, giving quick little pecks to every freckle he could see. Jasper took the opportunity and slithered his arms around Daniel's waist, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and hugging him tightly. David was in heaven. Seeing his two favorite people in the world being so adorable made his chest swell with an emotion he could only call love. He loved them so much.

The cuddle session went on for a couple minutes before Daniel felt something tap his nose. Something wet. "Shit." His boyfriends looked at him, both tilting their heads like a dog would. They quickly realized what was happening when the raindrops hit their bodies as well.

Stumbling over each other as they tried to get up, the trio ended up just tripping and falling on top of each other again. The rain picked up rather swiftly, resulting in everyone's clothes being soaked by the time they reached their cabin. When they got inside, Jasper was shivering more than ever, as were the other two. David was quick to run to his room to change, Jasper and Daniel right behind him. Daniel walked over to Jasper and sheepishly handed him his now soggy jacket. "S-sorry." Jasper laughed, taking the jacket and throwing it in the hamper.

"It's fine babe, s'not like you can control the weather. Don't even worry about it." He put his hands on the smaller man's hips, swaying them gently with a teasing smirk. Daniel hated that look. It made his face redder than when he got his first sunburn. "Besides~" Jasper spoke softly, that damn smirk only getting wider. "As much as I hate it, you keeping that jacket on means your shirt isn't wet right? You don't have to take it off. I know you don't like doing that." Daniel's heart fluttered. He had always felt self-conscious of his chest, even after he had gotten surgery. To hear someone acknowledge those feelings, especially someone he felt so close to, made him feel...valid. He gave the other blonde a swift kiss and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"You're freezing. Hurry up and change." David, now wearing a baggy v-neck and boxers, came in from behind and gave Daniel a soft kiss on the back of his neck. He put his hand in front of Jasper's chest, looking like he wanted a high-five.

"Tag me in." He giggled, resting his chin on Daniel's head. Jasper couldn't help but laugh at the gesture. Taking his hand and giving it a peck, he went off the his dresser to get some dry clothes. Daniel turned around to meet his boyfriends eyes. They gleamed with a sense of mischief. He was going to make a comment on them when David pulled him closer, their noses touching. The redhead chuckled at the deep blush that now enveloped Daniel's face. He took one hand in his, while the other rested on his hip. Together they danced around the room, while Jasper looked on with a smile.

"One two three one two three."

"I know how to dance David."

"Why are you so bad at it then~?"

"Fuck you."

"Language, love."

"Oh go drink some kool-aid."

The banter went on until David accidentally bumped into Jasper. The two looked at the taller man and smiled, pulling him into the waltz.

"Ah- Guys no you know I can't dance."

"See Danny, Jasper's willing to admit he's bad at it, why won't you?"

"David I will break up with you."

"You'd be back by the next day."

"Please he'd be back by the next minute."

"I hate you both. I am literally going to break up with you two."

"Awwwww." The two children men gave their saddest pouts while holding each other. "You're so mean. Stop being so mean Daniel." David whined sarcastically, acting like he was about to cry. Daniel rolled his eyes in response.

"Can't believe I fell in love with you two." He sighed dramatically, like the statement was the worst thing he could possibly have said. In spite of it he sauntered over and let them pull him into their embrace. "You're both the worst." He remarked, though there was no real hate in the comment. David cuddled him with happy noises of contentment, and Jasper laughed softly and kissed the top of Daniel's head. The blonde blushed lightly at the affection. "Whatever, I'm tired. Let's just go to bed." He pulled away and crawled onto their queen-sized mattress with a huff. His boyfriends giggled at his reaction. Jasper reached up and turned off the lights, while David rolled into bed and clung to Daniel like his life depended on it. He tried to pull out of the hug, but the redhead wasn't having it.

"Nooooooooo don't reject my feeeeeeeliiiinnngssssss!" David whimpered. Jasper snickered and flopped on top of the both of them. "AHHH JASP NOOOOOO" David cried out in laughter, trying to push Jasper off while still hugging Daniel.

"YOU'RE GONNA CRUSH US YOU JERK AUGH-"

"Whoopsies~"

"JASPER"

"I tripped Davey I couldn't help it."

"YES YOU COULD OH MY GOD DON'T DO THIS"

Daniel couldn't stop himself from laughing. These dorks were going to be the death of him. He loved them though. And he knew they loved him. (Even if they did keep him up all night with their dumb shenanigans) He loved them, and he'd keep loving them.

Till death do them part.

[becccaaawww1989]

I am trying to write more everyday. So here is something I threw together while at work, and I’ll hopefully continue writing after what I had scribbled down on paper. Here we go: 

I told you I would leave your name out of my writing. In rough drafts though, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I see your brown eyes, the way your lips stretch when you smile. I see the way my nineteen year old self looked at you in my memories. I see you smiling on the beam, you’re sideways... because I’m sideways, your blurry as my eyes filled and burned with tears once again thinking about that asshole and wonder if I had never gone to school while in a relationship with Tyler, would our friendship have more potential? I see your blurry body slumped on the beam, the way you used to gleam at my camera after giants on the trap bar, the way I looked at you and our fiery on-again-off-again friendship. It’s complexity deserves it’s story.

So that brings my thought process to text messages. I am in  place in my life where I’m looking back over relationships and interactions with people and for a while I had so many mixed feelings about it that if at one point you asked me, I would have been pissed or had negative emotions associated with that person. But five minutes later you could ask me about them and I would say how much I appreciated xy&z about them. Now I am looking back and trying to understand my own actions and my own head in everything because I want to get it right. I want to get these complex people right. I want anyone who eventually reads whatever book I write to understand how it was complicated to love someone and yet be so disappointed by the way they were talking to me, or the things they were telling me or the way they treated me. So much so that maybe I let it happen. So today I was telling my boyfriend, Evan, about my anxiety and kind of where I thought it originated. I think it accumulated over months of events and MULTIPLE people and MULTIPLE relationships but it kind of hit me one of the reasons why it got so bad. 

We were in the car on the way back from Chicago, the car ride was long, we were all sunburnt and cramped into a car. Somehow it turned into a seven (?) hour drive on the way back. The sex talk had started again, and then when it was over something about Taylor Swift was brought up, and I don’t remember what it was, but there was a point in that car ride where I was OVER it. I like Taylor, everyone knows that, everyone has known that for YEARS, but yet it was them against me (which had been seeming to happen quite often and it was starting to get old). And it event got to a point where Evan was defending Miss Swift, and that’s something that he doesn’t really do with other people. Ya, he’ll chat with me about the complexity of Reputation when I go off on a tangent and admit that she’s an amazing artist and very talented, but he also digs at how dramatic she is (cause boys think that women having emotional reactions to things that ARE emotional is dramatic). But in that car, he started trying to defend her, he tried to make my voice louder since it was like 5 to 2. But it wasn’t working, so I put on my sunglasses, and put my purple beats on my head and just started crying. I found out later that my teammate had tried to apologize, but Evan told her it was too late. 

Flash forward a couple months, September 25, 2017 and I realized I was kind of verbally taking my anger towards the people in that car out on just a couple people. Maybe I expected more from them that day? Or even during that August when I had just stopped going to practice and “distanced” myself from everyone. (And I say that with air quotes because me distancing myself back then was like “I’m not gonna go to practice, but I’ll go to dinner with everyone cause I need social interactions and didn’t have any friends at the time”). I don’t know. Maybe I expected someone or one of them to reach out after that car ride, but that didn’t really happen. So looking back on the beginning of September, I do recognize that I was being mean, but I got called out for it and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulder when we talked things out over text

Flash forward to November 8, 2017, another conversation broke out because of my concern. Suddenly I found out that I was not on the same page with that friend, and I had had no clue. I felt like my name was being used to make me feel inferior and I was being told that I was untrustworthy and yada yada yada. We hash it out, after like three hours we are sending the laughing/crying emoji and we are good. 

Flash forward to March 12, 2018. Once again I received a text. It was because of a decision that I made after the November 8th conversation, but looking back it was so dramatic, and eventually that conversation leveled out again. The whole reason I had gone back and read through those text messages was because every now and then I’d get this weird feeling that once again we weren’t friends. That if I texted, they wouldn’t respond. So when I went back and read about it, and after an analysis of discussing our time together with our friends over the years and how it progressively got worse I realized that one of the reasons my fragility with always wondering where I stood with other people was because I would always think I was good with that one person, and then realize I’m not. And then we’d be good, something would happen, someone would speak and then we wouldn’t be okay again, and it was always this miscommunication, misunderstanding, mishearing. And that sucks. How are you supposed to trust your relationships when you are going on, living your life on a day to day basis and some of them are just fucking rollercoasters? 

[enzaime-blog]

Life-Threatening Brain Tumor survival story

New Story has been published on https://enzaime.com/life-threatening-brain-tumor-survival-story/

Life-Threatening Brain Tumor survival story

To the delight of everyone who knows 3-year-old Rayna Speary, her head is perfectly round and smooth and average size.

Given that the youngster was diagnosed and treated for an extremely rare brain tumor that caused her head to balloon in size as a 4-month-old, and that she underwent a dramatic surgery at Mayo Clinic to remove a substantial growth that occupied nearly half of her brain space, a perfect aesthetic of her head was not guaranteed. In fact, much about Rayna’s development — including her very survival — wasn’t assured.

In September 2014, doctors in the Departments of Neurology and Neurosurgery at Mayo Clinic’s Rochester campus informed Rayna’s parents, Wendy and Bob Speary of Oronoco, Minnesota, that their infant had developed a rare brain tumor called a desmoplastic infantile ganglioglioma, or DIG. Had it not been for the instincts of the resident pediatrician conducting Rayna’s four-month well-baby exam and understanding of the condition by Rayna’s pediatric neurosurgeon David  Daniels, M.D., Ph.D., Rayna’s outcome could have been vastly different.

“She’s kind of the benchmark case, as far as I’m aware,” Wendy says. “There’s not been a case that has had the results she has had.”

When the tumor was identified and images were taken of Rayna’s head, her care team discovered that a cerebrospinal fluid-filled sac filled nearly the entire space where the right half of her brain should be. Her brain tissue occupied a narrow sliver of space along the perimeter of her brain cavity.

“There was just a thin ribbon of brain pushed off to the side,” Dr. Daniels says. “If you look at the scans, you say, ‘How is that possible?'”

Sharp skills, swift intercession

Before Rayna’s diagnosis, she was a normal, happy baby. Having two older children, Wendy and Bob knew that children develop differently. So they weren’t initially concerned when, at her well-baby checkup, Rayna’s pediatrician from Mayo Clinic’s Department of Community Pediatric and Adolescent Medicine told them her head had increased in size from the 50th percentile to the 100thpercentile. The following day, however, the pediatrician’s office called back requesting that the Spearys return for some imaging.

“One of the amazing things about this story, and one that we’re really appreciative of, is that this resident took the time and went the extra step,” Bob says. “Her attention to detail and value in placing the needs of our daughter first were some of the things that saved her life.”

“One of the amazing things about this story, and one that we’re really appreciative of, is that this resident took the time and went the extra step. Her attention to detail and value in placing the needs of our daughter first were some of the things that saved her life.” — Bob Speary

Experienced in caring for children with uncommon brain tumors, Dr. Daniels was able to quickly diagnose Rayna’s condition. The news that Rayna had an extremely rare brain tumor — according to Dr. Daniels, Mayo Clinic has recorded only six instances of it in the past 20 years — was followed by the alarming information that brain surgery was her only chance at survival.

“It was a lot to digest,” Wendy says. “We were shocked and terrified. They were very honest with us with what to expect.”

The rarity of the tumor makes it difficult to provide long-term results, says Dr. Daniels, who with his colleagues in the Division of Child and Adolescent Neurology, is in the process of publishing a report on a series of seven DIG patients.

“Half of these tumors occur in outer hemisphere, and the other half occur deep in the brain,” Dr. Daniels says. “The kids where it occurs in the hemisphere do well.”

Surgical success, remarkable recovery

In Rayna’s case, the tumor was closer to the outside of her brain, making it easier for surgeons to get to. However, given the distortion her brain had suffered, it was unclear how her tissues would arrange themselves after the softball-sized growth was removed. That put her development moving forward in question.

In addition, it was possible that taking out the tumor would cause the infant’s skull to sag inward, resulting in her head being misshapen after the surgery. There was also the possibility that Rayna would not survive.

As difficult as that was to consider, “we knew that Dr. Daniels had done this surgery before. He was familiar with these cases,” Wendy says. “And we were at Mayo Clinic, and Mayo Clinic had the highest number of cases for this specific tumor. We’re at the best place in the world, so that gave us confidence.”

Bob adds that he’ll never forget a conversation he and Wendy had with Dr. Daniels just prior to surgery.

“He said, ‘Don’t worry. I have kids, and we’ve been through hard times, too. I’m going to take care of Rayna just like she was one of my own.’ I know he meant it.”

“[Dr. Daniels] said, ‘Don’t worry. I have kids, and we’ve been through hard times, too. I’m going to take care of Rayna just like she was one of my own.’ I know he meant it.” — Bob Speary

Waiting out the surgery was the worst experience of their lives, says the Spearys. So when Dr. Daniels emerged from the operating room to report that he was able to completely take out the tumor, they were overjoyed.

Since the surgery, MRI images of Rayna’s infant brain reveal that it has found its way back into its designated space and expanded to fill in the cavity.

“It’s actually quite shocking,” Bob says. “If you compare her post-surgery MRI with an MRI image from today, you would never believe it is the same brain.”

While Raya continues to undergo yearly MRIs to monitor her brain development, there’s little chance that the tumor will return.

“I think she got a surgical cure,” Dr. Daniels says. “We just took it all out, and I don’t think there is anything more to do.”

When Rayna is older, her parents intend to explain what happened to her when she was an infant.

“It’s an encouraging story,” Wendy says. “It was scary, but it turned out really good. You just look at her and are reminded that life is fragile. You never know when it’s going to change. We are so thankful for every moment we have with our kids.”