#x files theme playing in my head with the zoom in...

[vixentheplanet]

why did you fall in love?

“why did you fall in love? it's a hard fall from way up here."

shuri x black!reader | 18+

summary: You're one of the deadliest assassins in the world in a relationship with a superhero. [18+]

word count: 5.3k

themes: dark themes, assassin!reader, love-blind shuri (she is in love, leave her alone)

warnings: murder, manipulation, knife play, dom!reader (if you tilt your head, then left, and squint), oral sex, bondage, riding, fingering.

hi ✨ PSA this is a side blog to my main one so i can’t follow anyone as vixentheplanet

i’m okay!

i’m just re-uploading my deleted works for now and answering ask

i hope to write again but mentally not there rn

Every day, it is estimated that about 150,000 people die all across the world. Of those one hundred and fifty thousand people, one and seven hundred twenty-eight thousand of those people are homicide victims. When the night draws to a close, and Tuesday takes her daily victims, just one had the privilege of seeing your face last.

Many people make the mistake of believing that women are weak and harmless. These preconceptions force people to drop their guard and fail to see a threat right in front of them. Another widespread misunderstanding is that assassins are always male, grim, and gloomy figures dressed entirely in black. No one would ever suspect you of such atrocities, the girl in the velvet corset and gold metallic miniskirt. You were grinning devilishly to yourself as you walked the short distance from where the taxi had dropped you off to your apartment building.

In prison, you were recruited as an assassin by a criminal organization named Callio. Callio is short for blue coral snake (Calliophis bivirgata). The venom of the colorful snakes is so potent that it can cause all of the victim's nerves to fire at once, resulting in full-body spasms, paralysis, and sudden, terrible death—a fitting name for an organization housing some of the deadliest criminals. Your old identity perished the moment you became a member of the group. Callio aided you in escaping, fabricating your death, and establishing a new identity.

The organization was everywhere: police, MI5, and MI6 were covering things up so you wouldn't get in trouble. All potential evidence against you will be completely eradicated thanks to Callio's assistance. Your only task was to ensure that your target died. With each murder, you left a unique imprint without leaving a systematic trail. Your tasks took you all across the world. Except for Paris, you only stayed in one palace for a short time and did everything you could to blend in. If you wanted to have some fun, you could even go in disguise.

An 'expert' with a degree, desperate for labels, would brand you a psychopath who constantly disregards right and wrong and dismisses others' rights and feelings. It's a made-up phrase by individuals acting as society expects them to. They see the world in black and white, labeling things they don't comprehend because they've been taught to be afraid of the dark and unconventional ways of life.

It felt exhilarating to be able to live your life any way you wanted.

The night chill barely bothered your skin as epinephrine coursed through your bloodstream—the rush of adrenaline thrumming your body with pure excitement. 

When your steps click against the pavement, sirens zoom past you, no doubt on their way to the location you were just leaving. Tonight is one of the few times in recent memory that you didn't have to go out of the city for business. The target was Angus Grant-Taylor, a Scottish businessman who planned to spend the weekend in Paris. Perfect for you. While you were in Tokyo two weeks ago, concluding an assignment on a fashion mongoose, you were given his file.

A key card that granted entrance to the penthouse suite was enclosed with the file. You slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 50th floor. The red light surrounding the button went out, and a bell sounded as the doors opened directly into the opulent living area.

The execution was quick. In a confused combination of French and English, you put on a heavy French accent and informed Grant-Taylor that you were a sex specialist sent by a friend to welcome him properly in the City of Love. He fell for it, a horny filthy man, without even verifying your claims. It was terrible how easily you could convince him to surrender over his belt with the threat of punishment. You were in his lap moments later, looping the belt around his neck and pushing till the leather bit into his wrinkled flesh. You pulled tighter and tighter, seeing the businessman's eyes widen in terror, clawing at his neck in an attempt to end the assault, violent breathy cries leaving his thin lips.

You smile as you watch the struggle leave his body. It will be over soon. “At least your wife doesn't know her husband was unfaithful, right?” You murmured this with mock pity, no longer maintaining the phony French accent. The authorities would declare it erotic asphyxiation for a half-naked man with a belt around his neck. As soon as his body became limp, you were off his lap and fled from the hotel room. You leave the space in the direction of the camera's blind spot.

Pathetic. You thought as you pushed through the revolving door into your residential building, keeping your head low as you made your way through the lobby and up to the elevators. 

Inserting the key into the lock and hearing the click, you withdrew the key but hesitated momentarily before rotating the knob. There was a slight temperature drop, which you're sure was caused by a window opening and shutting. You feel an energetic shift as tension builds on your shoulders. There was a visitor inside. You instinctively reach for one of the solid-steel spikes hidden in your hair, preparing to strike. But, as you proceed further, a soothing fragrance meets your senses. Cherry almond bursts mingled with dense and warm woody ambery undertones.

Instead of continuing with your original plan, you smirk. Exiting the foyer, turn left into the kitchen, grab a glass from the sink, and twist the cap off the whiskey. "You know, I think you have a death wish sometimes," you say into the night, pouring yourself a celebratory shot. Had you not picked up on the scent, you would have attacked. The sofa creeks and footsteps approach from the sitting room while the brown liquid stings your throat.

The footsteps stop, and the light switches on, illuminating the room. Soft eyes land on you. “How did you know it was me and not some creep?” 

You turn to face the voice, welcomed by the woman whose attention you’ve managed to maintain for over a year. A beautiful woman who honestly had no business being involved with you, but staying away from each other proved to be a difficult task. “I could smell your cologne,” A robust and potent scent. Some days, it would bring comfort, cocooning you in a loving warmth you could temporarily allow yourself to get lost in. Other days, when you felt exceptionally vulnerable, it suffocated you with the feelings you left unnamed. 

"Imagine if it had been some creep," you add. A giggle escapes as you bite your lip and catalog how to torture the intruder. If someone made the wrong decision to break into your apartment, you would have considered it a gift from the devil. They must have some pretty fucked up karma.

Shuri's face changes as her expression hardens. She scolds you, "Stop doing that," fully aware of how unsettling your thoughts are.

You scowl at her reprimanding tone.

"Where are you coming from?" Shuri was interrogating you about what you had done tonight, and you pondered telling her the truth for a split second. For the typical person, it was a simple question. For you, it was difficult to answer. You could have been down the street, or you could have been at the scene of a homicide.  It was unnecessary to keep your occupation a secret. Shuri was fully aware of the life you led, but your contradictory morality didn't detract from the feelings she'd developed for you. 

Her justification? Shuri was an avenger; she wasn't concerned with the petty crimes of human existence. It wasn't her responsibility if it didn't pose a threat to her people or the universe. The truth? Love. Loving someone makes you unable to see their faults.

Shuri had been through so much grief and pain that she was at her lowest by the time you arrived. You were an enigma she was trying to solve at first, having met at a gala while you were on assignment. Shuri couldn't stay away once the mystery was uncovered and she discovered the nature of your life. Letting a literal superhero into your world, Shuri falling for an assassin, the relationship was risky for both of you. Secretly, you believe Shuri was drawn to you because of your darker tendencies, recognizing characteristics she fought to keep at bay in you. 

“If you don’t want to hear about what I’d do hypothetically, you definitely don’t want to know where I came from.” There’s a playful glint in your brown eyes as you smirked, bending down to remove your heels. Shuri releases a long sigh that causes you to snap your head at her. “What? Does the mighty Black Panther have something to tell me?” You challenged, throwing your coat into the empty chair. 

The two of you stood on two different sides on the scale of humanity. Things are rarely just black or white, good or bad; instead, they exist on a spectrum of gray hues. The world is filled with nuances, complexities, and shades of gray that require more in-depth examination and comprehension. Killing is a primordial act. Humans have three basic instincts: survival, predator, and prey. Humans would live like savages if not restrained by the rule of law, morals, and ethics. It's what nature intended. It was a waste of time to try to be decent when you could just be good at what you do best, murder.

Shuri saved lives as the Black Panther while you ended them. Shuri had difficulty grasping the fact that you enjoyed what you did. The gruesome sight of the victim’s body makes the detectives feel sick to their stomachs as they come up with little to no evidence. Thrilling.

Some may consider it selfish for a 'hero' to turn a blind eye to the assassin creating chaos in the world, but in reality, no one can always be entirely selfless. So Shuri gives herself the freedom to have this, to have you. As a result, you allow yourself to feel for the first time in a long time. Yet you never let the romance take you away from who you were. Make you abandon your criminal behavior in favor of a comfortable lifestyle with Shuri.

After sensing your anger, Shuri moves from the opposite side of the kitchen to be closer to you.

“I understand the nature of your profession,” Shuri hesitates in her following words, recognizing you’re prone to shutting down whenever the conversation becomes confrontational. "I must know you're safe."

Her sentiments amuse you. "You worry about me, sweetheart,"

"Y/N, I am being serious. Every time you leave on a mission, you run the chance of never returning."

"I suppose I could say the same thing about you." You fired back fast. With so many unknowns, the Avengers could not adequately prepare for every potential threat. You were at least provided with a file including all the required information and resources. On most occasions, you could be perfectly prepared for what you were about to walk into.

The situation was risky, but what's the fun of being cautious? You have a tendency to be impulsive and easily bored. “It hasn’t killed me yet.” You were well aware that you weren't invincible or superhuman. You are just too efficient at your work. But even if protected, you weren’t clumsy; every movement was careful and calculated.

"Would you like me to wait till it does?" 

A droplet slides down your cheek as your eyes water, “Are you going to save me?" You ask, brows furrowed as you look at Shuri with pleading eyes. " Save me, so I no longer have to kill. Please, please save me," you sniffled, reaching out to wipe away the tears that had gathered on cue.

Perhaps the hero knew too much about you. Shuri sighs at your shenanigans, her face heated at your ridicule of her sincerity. "Stop," she mutters.

In the stillness, a manic burst of laughter rings forth. "Wasn't that what you wanted me to do?" You argue back, and the depleted sigh that Shuri lets out has you rolling your eyes. "You're taking away my post-kill buzz." You have a grimace on your face as you turn away slightly. You weren’t in the mood for this emotional connectivity, no longer interested in hearing how much the other woman cares for you. 

Nevertheless, Shuri is right there, caging you against the marble countertop and unwilling to let you detach from her. Shuri's affection for you can be overwhelming. Initially, your emotional detachment was a struggle for the other, who wanted to be let in. She was gentle, always clutching at your rough edges with the hope of smoothing them out, and her understanding and tolerance occasionally roused in you a wish to be more patient with her.

"Don't shut me out," Shuri urges, brushing her gentle lips against your brow. It took significant effort to overcome the impulse to shut down when experiencing emotional distress. "What's on your mind?" she questioned softly.

Her focus is intense. It always fascinated you how much power she could wield over you with a look that demanded your attention. The gaze you give back is enough to convey what's going on in your unsteady thoughts. With Shuri so close, you didn't want to continue your conversation. You wanted her lips on yours so badly after being separated for a while. "Begins with the letter K, followed by the letter I. Finally, it has two of the same letters." You wait for her to figure out the puzzle.

Shuri leans forward, leaving you barely a few inches apart, your back pressed against the cold marble of the island. “Kiss or kill?” She inquires, her lips brushing across yours, close but not touching.

A smirk etches on your features. “Don’t tempt me.”

“The temptress doesn’t like being tempted?” Fucking tease.

"Playing with me may be disastrous, darling. But I’ll spare you. I think you deserve a kiss." Shuri doesn't waste any time pouring herself into you; your mouths move feverishly, embracing the severity of your hunger.

Gradually, the kiss is no longer enough to satisfy the craving. Hands tighten around your waist, pushing you effortlessly into the cool surface, the stone on your thighs sending shivers up your spine. Still yearning for the sensation of Shuri's lips, you bend your head lower. Her hands tremble as she removes the button on your skirt, the discarded garment on the tile. Shuri's movements stutter as you bite onto her earlobe, your teeth clamping down on her jewelry. "You're so sensitive," you joke.

Regaining her composure, the woman slips her hand under the lace of your panties and effortlessly finds her way to your opening. Gentle fingers move inward, gathering some of the liquid that has pooled there. As the pads of her middle finger massage your clit with the accumulated moisture, you draw away from her mouth and let out a blissful moan.

The rhythm on your clit was subtle at first, with just enough pressure to get your breath catching. Shuri’s other hand tugs your corset down to thumb over your nipple before rubbing it between her index finger and thumb. You were both panting heavily in the intensity of the moment. Your nails pinch into Shuri's skin as you press your lips together and hold her sharp jawline. "Go down on your knees."

As the Wakandan falls to her knees, lustful eyes follow her every move. You clutch the counter's edge while your legs lay on Shuri's shoulders. Your stomach muscles clench in anticipation as you feel her warm breath on your core. Your pussy throbbed incessantly, and you're certain Shuri's hesitancy came from her fascination with how your juices flowed.

You have no idea when she will give you what you want. She then went in. Shuri used her tongue to separate your folds, causing you to gasp quietly, then spread you open with a long lick, ending with her mouth on your clit. Savoring the taste.

"Mon amour," you purr, resting your palm over Shuri's curls. As you move your hips slowly, your mouth falls slack. Once the pleasure becomes too overwhelming, you fully relax, laying back on the surface. Head dangling over the edge, a dizzying wave settles in. The rush is intoxicating.

She keeps sucking and devouring. Another glide, a deeper lick, and she comes up for air, only a few seconds missing the taste of you on her tongue before diving back in. When she brushed across the inside of your slit, her touch on your core made you whimper helplessly. You extended your legs wider and pushed your hips up for more, grinding on her face impulsively. Your body understood what it desired.

Shuri did as well. As Shuri grasped your ass with both hands and forced you onto her face, you uttered an involuntary gasp of surprise. "Oh, fuck," you exclaim. She was fully immersed in her task. Nothing mattered but you. Your lustful cries redirected Shuri's attention to your clit, which she licked rhythmically. The actions cause your stomach to spasm and deliver euphoric vibrations throughout your body. You're delirious and feeling so fucking amazing. Shuri has you in such immense ecstasy that you can hardly think about anything else. Shuri sank her face as far as she could, causing your spine to arch and legs to tremble —right there.

Your eyelids slid back as your orgasm rushed over you from head to toe. Everything raced as you felt your release land fast and heavy on Shuri's tongue. You cry out her name, and every drop of air in your lungs escapes, leaving you gasping.

As Shuri gets up, you lift your legs off her shoulders, and firm hands pull you upright. Between the orgasm and the disorientation, you're dazed, but your half-lidded eyes make out her form, and your hands go for Shuri's shirt, bringing her in for a fierce kiss. "You always make me feel so good," you praise, admiring the lovely face paint your cum applied to her.

"I fear I'm addicted to hearing you yell my name." As a result of her exertions, Shuri's voice is low and slightly harsh.

You smile as you attempt to regain your composure. "You're in luck. I plan on screaming it a lot more tonight.” Shuri unleashes an insanity-inducing growl in response to your words, which she only makes when she loses control.

"I have a surprise for you," You speak to her in a hushed tone as though it was a secret. Your expression becomes increasingly sinister. Something unexpectedly made Shuri ache.

With your legs on either of her, you sat slightly on Shuri's chest to avoid disturbing the strap waiting for you to climb. In your palm is a dagger you brought from Thailand. The gold handle is detailed and encrusted with amethyst teardrop crystals, while the silver blade gleams in the Parisian night.

"Beautiful, huh?" you say, admiring the handcrafted artistry.

Shuri’s brows raise, eyes trained on the object you held. "It's lovely, but I thought I warned you against weaponry in bed, my dear?"

You tilted your head, "When I warned you not to tell me what to do,” you counter-responded. “Anyway, that's not a surprise." Shuri opened her mouth to argue, but you signaled her to keep silent with a finger; she obeyed. You put the dagger between your lips and reach for a bundle of scarlet hemp rope. 

You don't ask. Just hold it up with a pleading expression. Shuri gives you a thoughtful look before finally giving in, her gaze flitting between the rope and the dagger. She couldn't deny it, but you knew she was always eager to try new things in the bedroom.

"Fine" was the only confirmation you required, thrilled. "Raise your arms and lock your wrists together," you command, and Shuri obediently complies. The synthetic material is woven into a handcuff knot. Imagining a future in which Shuri would allow you to tie elaborate knots in the rope that encircled her body evoked a primal sense of authority.

Shuri's breath catches when the rope is secured, and she experiences faint, painful sensations that heighten her awareness. Upon noticing that her eyes are closed, you smirk. You ask, "How does it feel?" to determine if she is at ease.

"It's good," she affirms, eyes fluttering open. You admire the vivid crimson thread that binds Shuri's wrist since it stands out against her complexion.

Tightly bound and 'helpless,' you and Shuri both know she has the ability to break free if she so desires. For the fun of it, you place the blade against her neck. "Are you afraid?"

Shuri swallows with her Adam's apple bobbing as her throat comes closer to the dagger. The woman beneath you remains silent for a few moments before shaking her head. "I'm not," she says clearly. "You wouldn't do anything to hurt me, and I know that."

It dawns on you how much faith Shuri has in you. You're a deadly assassin who kills others out of joy, with no remorse or conscience. Any rational person would have been terrified. It doesn't matter how brave they act around you; a knife to the throat will make all pretense of courage vanish in an instant. Yet Shuri's gaze is fixed on you, and she isn't reacting to the dagger you're holding.

Instead of being content with her response, you take things a step further, bringing your arm back and raising the blade above Shuri's head, but she remains unaffected by your actions, continuing to gaze with you. She doesn't even blink when you bring your arm down quickly, stabbing the pillow beside her head. Yet, with your chest pressed together, you can hear her heart pulse against yours. 

You bend down and kiss her on the mouth. The kiss is anything but delicate, full of fire and desperation due to the limited time around each other. Despite being restrained, Shuri mirrors your enthusiasm, her lips moving in sync with her intent. A moan escapes your lips as you pull back and lick a long stripe across Shuri's tattooed neck.

The blade is withdrawn from the pillow when you pull the handle. "This," you declare, waving the weapon in front of Shuri. "It's only a precaution. I'd like you to keep it for me, darling." You request, putting the sharp blade between the lips of the other woman.

You lean in close to her ear. "I'm going to ride the fuck out of you," you confidently vow, and Shuri whines. Her wrist flexed in the precise knot. “Ah, ah- no touching.” You reprimand, grabbing for the lubricant container, squeezing some into your palm, and coating the strap.

You gasp as you lift up and sink down into the shaft. In this posture, you had perfect control over the intensity and motion. "You look so gorgeous," you say, appreciating how she's pliant beneath you, waiting to be used.

When you direct the shaft to your entrance, you inhale sharply, feeling your walls flex to accommodate the length. You balance yourself by resting your hands on Shuri's shoulders and dragging your hips upwards, setting the rhythm. Every time you come back down, your gaze is fixed on Shuri, and a tiny gasp escapes your lips.

Shuri's admiration as she watches you indulge in your own pleasure turns you on even more—symbolic submission, yielding to you and your dark desires. "Do you enjoy watching me use you?" you ask, and Shuri nods, unable to react vocally with the razor blade between her lips. "I'm sure you do. Strong for the rest of the world, yet weak for me." Perhaps it was your possessive attitude, but it was pretty erotic when Shuri handed over complete control; her fingertips flexed, anxious to make contact. If she had her way, you'd be beneath her as she drove into you at incredible speed. The thought got you on even more, and you didn't stop thrusting down on her.

You're chasing your climax with a ruthless drive, your moans rising in octaves at the intense feeling. You let go of Shuri's shoulder, your fingers sliding into your scalp and yanking your hair till it hurts, the stinging exquisite. "Shuri," you scream, your voice never wavering. You keep repeating her name, louder each time, keeping your promise. As a reminder to her, even when she wasn't performing the job, she was always the source of your ecstasy. Shuri looks on as you unravel, sinking deeper into pleasure as the tip touches that delicious soft area. The rush is so intense that you pause, tightening around the shaft. "I'm so close, baby," you assure her. “I’m going to cum for you.” Her pupils are blown as she watches you, hips shifting slightly. You know she longs to be free. Soon. The classic sensation of your muscles tightening emerges deep within your core; you move at a careless but steady pace, chasing to release the tension. 

Your vision blacks out, and it’s almost psychedelic as a millisecond of tranquil, chemically-induced euphoria shoots up from the center of your body. It flows around in pulses so intense that they curl your toes. The tingling sensation coursing through your veins made you shake, and violent cries fell from your lips. Your body bucked reflexively once, twice, and the third time became a shuddering full-body spasm as you drew out the high. 

You hardly had time to come down before lifting off the strap, unsteady fingers working on loosening the harness so you could put your fingers into Shuri's warmth. After watching you ride her, she's glistening with arousal. Her response to you is almost immediate, arching into your touch while you curl your fingers, stroking a rough spot that will have her coming soon.

"When you come for me, I'll cut you out," you breathe, stroking your fingers in Shuri and pressing your palm against her clit. "Would you be able to do it for me, baby?" She nods once before throwing her head back against the bed. Shuri's walls constrict around your fingers as you remove the weapon, forcing her to remain silent, and she moans so loudly that the walls tremble.

"I missed your pretty voice," you say, quickening your pace, eager to hear more of the sweet melody. "Fuck baby, Y/N," she gasps, body trembling. Seeing you are wrecking her brilliant mind, purging her of anything that isn't you, is an electrifying thought.

When you realized that Shuri was about to break, you slid the blade beneath the red hemp rope, preparing to sever the material. Shuri extends her legs farther, enabling you to press in harder, losing yourself in her and caring for her. "That's it, darling, let go," you urge, knowing she's getting near.

You slide the dagger through the rope when you feel the first wave of wetness. Shuri's walls are squeezing around your fingers as she cums, shouting out your name loud and long with a mix of obscenities. Making it clear to everyone around you who was making her feel this good.

Sweaty foreheads pressed together as you breathe into each other coming down from your high. Shuri grins as she scoops you up in her arms and swiftly reverses your position, hovering over you. "You know you're wild," she chuckles, bending her elbows to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, missing her sweetness. “Thank you for humoring me,” you tell her between your soft kisses. "I'm sure you could have gotten out of that."

“I’d do anything for you,” and you recognize it’s not just pillow talk.

"Would you like to take a bath with me?" you ask, your eyes heavy from the sedation of your climax. Of course, Shuri agrees, and you get up as soon as possible. You are running warm water and adding a few extra things: Epsom salt, honey, and lavender oil. 

You're seated comfortably between Shuri's legs, her mouth pressing little nibbles into your neck. Your manicured nail traces over the ink that has become firmly embedded in the skin of your beloved. These were the times when you could let your mind relax. You could get caught up in the moment and believe life was that simple. Except—

Your voice cuts through the silence. “What is it?” Shuri hums. “What are you thinking about?”

“I don’t want to scare you,” Shuri says, deflecting from the question. 

You stop, pausing your tracing. “Tell me,” you demand.  

She sighs deeply, the heat raising the hairs on the back of your neck. "I was simply imagining what it would be like if we were always this way." Shuri quickly adds context to her revelation. "I have no interest in domestic life. I don’t think either of us is suited for that. I only want you."

Shuri is waiting for you to answer in the quiet. You make every effort to comprehend her emotions. Love is a feeling that makes people happy, and happiness is the spark that draws people to love, and the emotion can take the form of people at times. Shuri wishes to be with you at all times. She wants to be happy with you. "One day, you'll consume me. You’ll be all I need, and then I'll want nothing else. And on that day, I'll say yes." 

You turn, spilling the water about as you proceed to sit in Shuri's lap. Her hands naturally gravitate to your waist. "Say it," you beg, and she knows exactly what you mean.

"I love you," the declaration always makes your heart skip a beat, even if you have yet to reciprocate. You bend your neck and pull Shuri down, kissing her until both of you are out of breath.

You let Shuri hold you throughout the night, and when she slips away, believing you're sleeping, she kisses your hair and mumbles, "I love you." 

The rising light gave the morning sky a pink hue. Given your circumstances, whether it was hours, days, or weeks, you and Shuri did everything you could.  Even if you awoke alone, the cut crimson rope and thoughts of the previous night are enough to lift your spirits. You grab your silk robe, tie it snugly around your waist, and head for the kitchen.

The envelope containing your next assignment was on the coffee table, where you had left it before heading for the penthouse last night. You take it as you walk into the, your energy spent from the night before, and you need to eat.

You select a croissant, set it on a baking sheet, then place it in the oven to brown. In the fridge, you take out the orange juice and the strawberry jam, leaving them on the counter as you retrieve a glass for the liquid. You take a crystal glass from the cabinet and pour the orange juice into it, and your gaze is drawn to the diamond pattern. That's how the day begins, basking in Shuri's afterglow, the delicate aroma of the croissant filling the air. This file is thicker than the ones you're used to. Callio has been tracing this person for a time now.  Uncomfort sinks into your gut as you hold the envelope. You're noticing details you didn't previously. It's not anxiety; it's a nagging warning brought on by intuition.

"Get a hold of yourself," you whispered to yourself. You make a clean cut across the seam using one of the spikes on your hairpin. You hold the glass again, ready to take a sip, as the contents pour out of the clean incision you made across the top, but as you read the name scrawled in red pen, your grip becomes unsteady, sending the glassware plummeting. It shatters instantaneously, the liquid spilling down your feet, but you barely react as your eyes scan the name once, twice, three times, hoping for a change; for the letters to suddenly rearrange into something else. Yet it doesn't, and the more you read, the faster your pulse becomes as discomfort takes over your body.

Shuri Udaku

[moonbiscuitsims]

Noodle appreciation on Sims 4 Gorillaz Project

2D's room pics Russel's room pics Murdoc's room pics ("mature") More Gorillaz themed posts

From the wiki: ヌードル (Nuudoru), better known as Noodle, is the official guitarist and former occasional backing vocalist of Gorillaz.

Born: Osaka, Kansai, Japan on 31st October 1990.

Instruments: Guitar, keyboard, synthesizer.

Occupation(s): Songwriter, Guitarist, Vocalist, Ex-Super Soldier

Nationality: Japanese

Religion: Buddhism and Shinto

Created by: Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn

Inspired by D.A.R.E. I used the video for extra reference especially for the front side of the room which i couldn't see well in the reference pics.

Theres a cute little scene in the MTV Cribs Gorillaz short where noodle kicks Murdoc out of her room. The cute ceiling lanterns are missing in this pic because I forgot to start the tab camera from a zoomed out position and they fade when you zoom in my bad.

In the Phase 1 room, that little blue chair was actually Noodle's bed but after she has the white one, so I made it into a chair. If you understand it, please ignore the sign probably meaning something extremely random I can (slightly) read hiragana/katakana but not kanjis sorry I hope it doesn't mean poop or something bad it was just for aesthetic.

I made her room quite messy, because I have an obsession with messy rooms and Gorillaz aesthetics did tend to be quite cluttered and messy.

I like to imagine Cyborg Noodle stole Noodles soldier clothes, so that's why she is wearing them. She is still a badass who loves to train just in case.

The literal description of Kids with Guns. Obviously guns are bad, this is fiction, don't use guns.

I used tons of Cyberpunk 2077 cc for this room and other parts of the building. So that giant head is a Beta version of Shaun Ryder before he could drunk-British karaoke sing D.A.R.E. with Noodle in her secret room. No one is going to convince me that Gorillaz is not slightly cyberpunk, they're a virtual band with holograms, with cyborgs, weird talking robot heads, dystopian and apocalyptic themes and beaches made of plastic.

The bathroom and many parts of the lot were made up but there was no way I was gonna make a poor innocent little teen girl share the disgusting toilets and bathrooms with three dirty grown men ( ×m×) Hers is also slightly dirty but nowhere near as bad I'll post them in future posts.

I created these sims a long time ago, they were so much fun to make, I even made my own (terrible) cc to make certain clothing items more accurate. The lot they live on is Kong Studios, I kind of mixed all the Phases, but my favourite was Phase 2. In the future I hope to do more Phase 3, after that everything is a bit unknown to me as Gorillaz were kind of on hiatus for many years after Plastic Beach and I fell out of touch with them, only to realise quite recently they have tons of new music 🧡

For the inspiration I used I'll leave reference photos I found, from all the old online flash games there use to be, I loved them it's a shame that part of the internet is over x), as well as using their music videos and Rise of the Ogre comic. They're all super bad quality because 240p videos and footage of the 2000's.

Overall I had a really fun time making them and taking these pics, I know they're old but it gives me a lot of nostalgia and I love their music and the entire project. Also I use tons of cc so I don't know if I'll be sharing a CC list, I started making it only to see I was taking 3 hours for barely any of it, so I may (possibly) share it in the future with the lot and sims files, but for now I'm just showing the project. I might also make some cosy lets play videos with them just chilling for my YouTube.

Any support for my posts is greatly appreciated 🧡

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[piraticoctopus]

Y’all wanna know how my train of thoughts work like 24/7? I had a big nerd mind expansion moment while trying to organize my Hollow Knight thoughts where I pulled out my entomology textbook because I was thinking about eusocial insect societies (ants, honey bees, termites)— and when I typed out a description of them in a way that pointed out how messed up it is when you give it morals (in short, I described them as producing a “self-sacrificing, unthinking, emotionless, will-lacking army”), I was like “woah, wait a minute, no mind to think”, and I realized I don't really know all that much about termites or how their societies/genetics differ from hymenopterans (ants, bees, and wasps), but I knew they DO have a king, so I looked into it more and then did a deep dive into reading scientific papers about caste determination and colony structure and then when I went to find a diagram of it—

*fucking x-files theme plays with a dramatic zoom-in*

TLDR; the Pale King’s basically a termite.

Supporting info and other interesting (to me!) facts about termites below the cut:

(Here’s the publication that diagram is from in case anyone wants to read about queen termite reproductive strategies lmao)

Termites are monogamous until one of the pair dies. Queens can produce new queens through parthenogenesis (making babies without a male, so 100% of their genes are from her, but they aren’t necessarily straight clones). So if she needs to she can make a bunch of younger versions of herself.

I googled “are termites monogamous” for confirmation and forgot to specify Google Scholar and there is... so much going on here

Some reproductives are meant to leave the colony to start new ones, and thus have wings (and are called “alates”). Their wings are shimmery and very pretty and like twice the length of their bodies so all those headcanons where people give PK wings are valid.

Irrelevant to my point, but interesting: Unlike hymenopterans, in which males are haploid (only have one copy of each gene), termite males are diploid (have two copies, which is standard in most animals). Honey bees have some weird genetic fuckery because of that which results in the females (all diploid) of a colony sharing an average of 75% of their genes with each other (average full-sibling relatedness is 50%).

Also unlike ants and honey bees, the males don’t fuck off and die after mating. In those groups, the queen can mate once and then produce fertile eggs whenever she feels like it, but in termites the king sticks around and they just... constantly go at it, I guess. (Which, considering that being isolated and bound is enough to keep the WL from making more kids, maybe this one is a point in my favor.)

Workers and soldiers can be either male or female, unlike ants/bees where all workers are female, but are kept sterile via pheromones, so they’re functionally all kept neutral.

Some soldiers produce acids and will straight-up explode themselves during warfare, or use their massive heads to physically block tunnels from intruders, and commit numerous other acts that would violate the Geneva Conventions. Bugs have no morals and by our standards they’re all dirty little sinners running around committing war crimes.

I read something about mass burial pits, but couldn’t find more information on it other than that they exist??

Their architectural skills are incredible. The craftsmanship! You’ve got the classic “cathedral” style towers typically associated with termite mounds (largely constructed from shit, btw— maybe that’s why Ogrim is a fav), but some species apparently make “cartons” (papery nests) up on tree trunks.

Termites love wood. PK’s wife is a tree.

[weelittleweasley]

meet the wealseys (f.w.)

prompt: you met fred at the joke shoppe when you had first arrived from america. after dating for a little while, he asks you to come and meet his family. needless to say, your visit to the burrow was one you’ll never forget.

pairing: post war! fred weasley x fem! american! reader

warnings: mention of the war and death, food and eating

word count: 6.4k

Diagon Alley was much different than what you had pictured, but in the best way possible. The tight quarters were packed with people as you pushed through, looking at the different store fronts, seeing how each one was uniquely different and magical. This was not what you were used to in the States, but you knew that you would become adjusted very soon. The hustle and bustle was refreshing and exciting for a young girl starting a new life abroad. As you continued to stroll along the alley, people called out to each other, exchanging sickles and galleons for merchandise, laughing and hugging each other, poking a smile onto your face. There were many stores to choose from, but you kept your eyes peeled for a store front that jumped out at you.

It didn’t take long for that to happen.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the banner clearly spelt out with a animatronic person, tilting his hat up. Number 93 Diagon Alley. 

Your curiosity stirred inside of you as you shrugged and pushed the front door open. Sounded interesting enough. As you entered the shoppe, you were instantly greeted with screaming children, things zooming past you, and so many colors. The shoppe itself radiated childhood joy which made your heart soar with excitement.

Walking through out the store, you quickly realized that this was a joke shoppe with countless amounts of products. Ones that you were familiar with and others that you had never heard of. You laughed to yourself as you saw Dungbombs and U-No-Poos. “Clever,” you spoke to yourself as you continued to walk through the aisles of the stores. Whomever started this joke shoppe clearly had an affinity for their childhood and having fun; something you could gladly get on board with.

As you walked around, you saw how excited everyone was in the store. It was full of life and nostalgia and joy. There was laughter, smiles, and cheering; how could one not love it here? The store’s energy itself made you want to stay forever. As if England couldn’t get any better.

You filed through the shelves, shuffling through brightly colored packaging and funny titled products that brought glee to your face. Maybe you could purchase a few things and send some of them home back to your family and friends in America. They would get a kick out of these. Slowly, you had accumulated a pile of toys and such in your arms. I must look out of my mind, you think to yourself. A 20 year old girl by herself in a joke shoppe, carrying poop themed jokes. 

 “Need a basket?” a voice calls from behind you as you flip around. Standing there was a tall, well dressed man with flaming red hair gelled swiftly away from his face as he smiled at you. His chocolate brown eyes were warm and comforting and his smile was enough to have you weak in the knees. “Seems like you got your hands full,” he speaks before ducking his right eye down in a cheeky wink.

His forwardness took you by shock. You stammered for a second before finally speaking, “Yeah, sure, thank you.” He hands you a basket that you dump all of the products in. “I appreciate it, thanks,” you smile back at him.

The red haired gentleman speaks, “It’s my job. Literally.” You chuckle lightly, nodding your head, realizing he was the owner of the shoppe. The uniform, the proud badge he wore on his suit jacket, the amount of confidence he exuded. It made sense. “You’ve got a fine selection of products in your basket, I must admit,” he smiles, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Some of our bestsellers.”

You smile back at him, tilting your head, trying to get a read on him. Was he trying to flirt? Or was he just trying to make a sale? “I suppose that’s why I’m buying them. Although, not all of them are for me, I must admit,” you sigh. “I’m sending some to my family back home. Figured my brother will like it.”

The owner nods his head, “Ah, yes. Nothing a brother loves more than poop themed pranks. What a brilliant sister you are,” he winks as you lightly chuckle. “I figure home is the States for you?” he asks as you furrow your brows, wondering how he knew. “Your accent. It’s pretty recognizable,” he laughs as you roll your eyes. “What brings you to London?”

At first, you hesitated sharing your story with a business owner of a joke shoppe that you had just met. But there was something about him that made you want to trust him. “I graduated from Ilvermorny four years ago. I decided I wanted to move out of the States to find other work to see if there were more job opportunities here. I moved here about a month or two ago,” you tell the flame haired man who leaned against the wall, listening to you intently as his eyes darted from your eyes to your body, quite obviously checking you out. You gulp when his eyes meet yours with a smirk on his face. Within an instant, you decide to play his game. “Besides, there are cuter men in London.”

He chuckles at your joke and nods his head. “Understandable. Seems like you moved for very important reasons,” he replies as you blush. “Can I check you out?”

You freeze. “Can you what?”

The gentleman laughs at your surprise. “Your merchandise? Can I ring you up?” he clarifies as you exhale a breath with a blush, lightly laughing before nodding. “Brilliant...besides, I’ve been checking you out since you walked into the store,” he simply states before leading the way to the cash register. Your heart stops as your mouth runs dry. At least he was honest. “I didn’t get your name,” he speaks as he ducks behind the counter, taking your basket and ringing up your things. “I’m Fred.”

Fred. The name suited him. You smile, “(Y/N),” you speak, extending you hand to shake his as he does so with a smirk on his lips. “The shoppe is really amazing. You must be proud of it,” you praise him as he smiles proudly.

“We are,” he speaks as you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “My brother and I run the shoppe together. He’s my twin,” he reveals.

“Twin?” you clarify.

“Yeah, twin. Georgie!” Fred calls out into the shoppe. 

Suddenly, from behind a stack of boxes pops out a figure identical to Fred. “Good God,” you breathe out. The twin, now known as George, walks over to Fred as Fred slings an arm around his brother. As they stand next to each other, you realize just how identical they were. The only way telling them apart was the color of the shirt they wore. This would surely be trouble.

“George, this is (Y/N). She recently moved here from America,” Fred tells George who smiles widely at you, extending his hand to shake yours as you gladly accept it. “(Y/N), this is George, my twin.”

With a large smile, you speak to George, “Pleasure to meet you. I see where Fred gets his handsome looks from,” you joke around, making George laugh wildly.

“Oh, you’re brilliant. I like you already,” George beams before nudging his brother with a knowing look. Fred gave his brother a shove as George smirked at him, knowing exactly what was going on here. Unbeknownst to you. “Well, I hope this isn’t the last I see of you, (Y/N). I’ve got to go restock some shelves, but don’t be a stranger,” George tells you, very friendly for just having met each other. 

And just as quickly as he came, he’s gone, disappearing behind boxes. “He seems lovely,” you tell Fred who rolls his eyes, making you giggle. 

Fred shakes his head, “Ball breaker,” he huffs. “But he’s my brother. Gotta love him,” he smiles. “That’ll be three galleons,” he chimes. You look at him puzzled. There was enough merchandise there to be well over ten galleons, but he was only charging you three. But before you can protest, Fred speaks, “The new girl discount,” he winks as you smile at him gratefully before handing him three galleons. “I hope your brother enjoys his things.”

You look up at Fred and gulp. The fact that this complete stranger had you at a loss of words was beyond you. “I’m sure he’ll love them,” you speak honestly as Fred smiles softly. “I hope this isn’t the last time we see each other, Fred,” you reveal to him honestly. There was something about Fred that made you want to be around him. The life he had inside of him was enticing and exciting; he was different than other men you have met in London. 

Looking into your eyes, Fred gulps before speaking, “I’m sure it won’t be. In fact, since you’re still new to London, maybe I could show you around this weekend? I know a few good spots in the area. You know, since I’m a local.” 

His words make a grin appear on your lips as you nod your head, “That sounds really nice, Fred. I’d like that.”

“Wicked,” Fred breathes out as you giggle. “Saturday? We can make a day of it? We’ll meet here and I’ll give you a very comprehensive tour,” he wiggles his brows as you smile with a nod. “Until then, (Y/N).”

You give Fred a small wave goodbye before exiting the joke shoppe with two bags full of pranks and toys. And now a date for Saturday.

--------------------

“Fred, let’s get a move on! The shop opens in twenty and it’s new release day!” George yells from outside the bedroom door as Fred groan, cuddling further into your chest as you rub his back. “(Y/N)! Stop distracting my git brother!”

You chuckle as Fred calls back out, “Leave her out of this, you wanker! I’ll be ready in five!” George groans from outside of the door before you hear his footsteps disappear into the kitchen. Fred looks up at you as he lays on your chest, you brushing his floppy red hair out of his eyes. “I guess that’s my cue,” Fred huffs before peeling himself off you, rubbing his face with a groan.

It had been three months since you had met Fred that day in the joke shoppe. Three months since he had flirted with you and you had gone out on your first date. There was undeniable chemistry between you and Freddie. He adored how you loved to joke around, not taking yourself or anything too seriously. He adored that way you looked around London with such wonder and curiosity with wide eyes and smile. Fred loved the way you threw your head back with you laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. Fred loved when you bit back a smile when you teased him before giving in and falling into a fit of giggles. Fred was smitten with you and you him. You adored his confidence and professionalism, but you adored even more the way he could act like a fool at the drop of a hat. Fred was childlike in the best way possible. He was a breath of fresh air. He was what you needed when you moved here.

“Oh, come on, Freddie,” you sit up in the bed, Fred’s large t-shirt draped over your body. “It’s new release day! That should be loads of fun! Besides, after the work day is over, you know I’ll be waiting for you,” you kiss his shoulder blade. You worked just up the road at the Apothecary, so it was easy for Fred to run over and see you on his lunch break. That was Fred’s favorite part of the day. He secretly wished that you didn’t get another job, so he could easily run over on those lunch breaks to steal a quick kiss and see your face. Even if it was for three minutes. 

Fred begrudgingly pulls on his suit pants, huffing, “I can only hope that this release goes well. George and I invested a lot into this release and if it doesn’t do well, then we’ll lose a lot.”

You give your darling a knowing look, “It won’t do poorly, Fred. You and I both know that.” Fred gives you a gentle smile as he buttons up his shirt. “Come here,” you sit up on your knees as Fred walks over the edge of the bed. You pull his tie around his neck before tying it for him, something you knew he loved. “Today is going to be a brilliant day and you are going to sell out. I feel it in my gut.”

Fred takes your chin in his fingers, forcing your gaze up to his. His eyes look into yours with adoration before he pulls you in for a sweet kiss as you smile into it. Fred’s lips move gently against yours, making your stomach sway in excitement. Kissing Fred never got old. He gently pull away from you, pushing his forehead against yours. “I love you, angel,” he coos as you blush. He pecks the tip of your nose before sighing, “I’ll stop by the apothecary around lunch to update you on how sales are going.”

With a small nod, you watch him open the bedroom door and get ready to leave. “I love you, Freddie. You’ll be great,” you call after him as he sends you a wink.

“What about me?!” George’s voice booms from the other room. 

You laugh and sigh, “You’ll be phenomenal, Georgie!”

“Hah! I got a phenomenal and you got a great, Fred! Guess (Y/N) has a favorite twin!” George teases his brother as you hear a slap and George squeal an Ouch!

“Oh, would you shut your fat mouth and get downstairs!” Fred exclaims at his brother, making you chuckle. 

The sounds of the twins banter slowly faded as they descended the stairs of the flat down to the shoppe below. You smiled to yourself as you pried yourself off of Fred’s comfortable linens and forced yourself to get ready for your own job that awaited you.

Soon enough, the lunch hour rolled around and you were finishing helping a customer purchase a bunch of ingredients for a spell. “Have a lovely day,” you chimed as you handed her a bag full of her things.

As she left the apothecary, you exhaled deeply and arched your back, stretching the kinks in your back. Standing on your feet all day really took a lot out of you. 

The bell at the front door chimed signaling that another customer had arrived. Mindlessly, you begin speaking, “Good afternoon and welcome. Is there something I can assist you w-”

You are briskly cut off by a pair of lips on yours as you instantly melt into Fred’s touch, humming gently into your embrace. Fred pulls away with a large grin on his face. “Hi, Freddie,” you speak.

“How did you know it was me and not George,” he questions you, poking at your sides. “How do you know it’s not George right now pretending to be Fred? Huh?”

In between giggles, you manage to speak, “I know my boyfriend, Fred.” Fred halts his tickling as you smile up at him. “Besides, George has a more square jaw than you do. You also have calloused finger pads from opening boxes and George doesn’t because he carries the inventory,” you recount as Fred looked at you, quite impressed that you had little tells between him and his twin brother. “Anyway, how are sales going? Business booming?”

Fred smiles widely before you jump on the counter, Fred standing in between your legs. “Better than booming. We sold out at eleven in the morning. Nearly an hour after we opened,” Fred gushes as you gasp, pulling him in for a tight hug. You weren’t surprised that the release went well; the boys knew their demographic and always knew what the people wanted. “But that’s not all the good news, my love.”

You give your boyfriend and knowing look. “Really?” you ask as he nods. “Oh, I’m scared.”

“No need to be,” he chuckles. “I called my mum to tell her the good news and she thinks a celebration is in order. She invited us, all of us, to come home for the weekend. Everyone will be home. Me, George, Ron, Percy, Ginny, Mum, Dad. I assume that Hermione and Harry’ll be there too because bloody hell it’s not home without them. Mum even said that Bill and Fleur may stop by at one point! It’ll be a mini vacation! Isn’t that brilliant?” he beams.

But instead of cheering in glee, your heart freezes. Going to Fred’s childhood home to meet his family and his friends? Not just for dinner. For the weekend. You had no idea what to expect. You knew that Fred had a large family and he spoke highly about all of them. He told you stories of his childhood and Hogwarts and he always seemed to speak of it all with such love.

It’s not that you didn’t want to meet his family, you just didn’t want to not meet their expectations that they had for Fred. From the stories Fred and George had told you, Mrs. Weasley was very protective over her children. Especially after the war. With Fred nearly dying, she was especially careful with Fred. The last thing you wanted was to make his mother disappointed in his choice of a partner and even more terrifying, you didn’t want your beloved boyfriend’s mother hate you.

“(Y/N)? You haven’t said anything? You alright?” Fred snaps you out of your thoughts as you shake your head, bringing you back to reality. “Do you want to come home and meet my family?” he excitedly asks you, taking your hands in his as he kisses the backs of them tenderly, looking up at you hopeful for your response.

You couldn’t say no. It would break Fred’s heart. Besides, you were going to have to meet them eventually. With a deep breath, you reply, “Of course I do, Freddie love.”

Fred claps his hands together, “Wicked. Oh, this is bloody brilliant. I’ll have to run back to the shoppe and ring her and tell her to make an extra place setting for tonight.” Fred looks at you, childish joy bubbling in his eyes as you sigh softly, giving him a gentle smile. The look on his face made you fall in love with him all over again. “I can’t wait for them to meet you. They’re gonna love you,” he tells you, holding your face in between his calloused hands as you smile. “Godric, I love you,” he breathes before kissing you quickly. “Okay, I’ve got to get back to the shoppe. But after you’re done with work, go pack a bag, and meet me and George back at our flat. We’ll apparate from there!” 

And with that, Fred is out of the apothecary without another word, leaving you speechless, still sitting on the counter. As you sit there, just puzzled, your co-worker notices your predicament and laughs, “Meeting the family tonight, eh?” 

“Seems like it,” you gulp. 

-----------------------

You stood nervously in the living room of the twins’ flat, overnight bag in hand as you nervously nibbled on your fingernails. George yelled things to Fred from his bedroom as the two twins chaotically packed their bags and gathered things for their weekend stay. “Do you think we should bring our own brooms?” Fred boomed from his room.

“No,” George yelled back. “The ones that are in the shed will be just fine.”

Brooms? Should you have brought a broom? Your eyes dart to Fred who emerges from his room, duffel in hand with a large smile on his face. “Should I have brought a broom?” you ask him.

Fred laughs and shakes his head. “No, all you need to bring is your beautiful, wonderful self,” he speaks, kissing your forehead. “Georgie, let’s get this show on the road!”

“Coming, coming!” George bellows before appearing from his room, backpack on with another small bag in his hand. “Would you like to do the honors?” he smiles at Fred.

“Thought you’d never ask, brother,” he beams before pulling his wand from his pocket. “Everyone ready? Got all their things?” Fred looks at George who gives him a confident nod as you feign confidence and give Fred a small smile. “Brilliant...” he trails off before with a flick of his wand and a whoosh.

And suddenly before your eyes, you are not in the flat anymore. Instead, lush green grass is beneath your feet and the smell of rosemary and thyme floats around in the air. Ahead of you stands a proud, tall house that have Fred and George grinning from ear to ear. They were home.

Within seconds, George speaks, “Last one inside carries up all the bags!”

Fred and George are instantly set in a mad dash as you roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile. You slowly walk behind them, carrying your bag, heart beating hard against your chest. The time was now and there was no avoiding it. 

When you reach the front entrance, George looks at you, “(Y/N)! You didn’t even try!” You laugh and shake your head. “Eh, it’s fine. We’ll force Ron to carry all the luggage upstairs,” George shrugs.

Fred appears and grabs your hand, pulling you inside with a bright smile. “Mum! Dad! We’re home!” Fred calls out before chatter starts blooming from all areas of the house, making your heart race. Fred looks at your nervous eyes and squeezes your hand. “No need to worry. I’m telling you they’re going to adore you.”

First down the stairs is Ginny, the only Weasley daughter. Her eyes land on her two other brothers as she grins widely. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she laughs before George scoops her up in a tight hug, spinning her around as they both laugh wildly. George puts her down only for Fred to do the same thing to his younger sister. “I missed you both so much. Home isn’t the same without you two,” she speaks to her brothers. 

Fred pulls his sister into his side, “We missed you too. Everyday we miss you, little.” Ginny smiles up at her brother. “Gin, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N). (Y/N), meet the littlest Weasley, Ginny.”

“I may be the littlest, but I’ll still kick both of your asses,” Ginny pushes her brother teasingly. Ginny smiles at you widely. “I’ve heard all about you. And by all about you I mean I’ve heard what Fred tells Mum who tells me,” she laughs as you smile. “Can I give you a hug?” she asks.

You smile, “Absolutely.” Ginny embraces you tightly as you smile widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Fred and George speak so highly of you.”

Ginny pulls away from her embrace and speaks, “They better.” You laugh. She had the same sense of humors as her brothers. “Your accent is so pretty. Well, I mean, all of you is pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Well done, Fred!” Ginny compliments, making Fred blush a deep crimson. “You could probably do much better than him, you know that?” she teases, making you laugh. You and Ginny would get along just fine.

“Alright, enough of all that,” Fred grabs your hand, pulling you away from Ginny. 

Shortly after Ginny’s arrival follows bumbling footsteps and a voice that says, “Full house already! Bill and Fleur haven’t even arrived. I’m not giving up my bed for anyone, hear me?” George immediately tackles the Weasley brother to the floor, making him cry out. “George, get the bloody hell off of me, you git!”

George laughs, “Aw, I missed you too, Won-Won!”

Fred bursts out into laughter before George climbs off of the tackled brother. “Hey, Ronald,” Fred messes up his brothers hair as Ron shakes his head with a smile. “Missed you.”

Ron smiles at his brothers, “Missed you both too. Although the tackle wasn’t appreciated.” Ron glares at George who gives him a firm pat on the back. “You must be (Y/N),” Ron smiles warmly at you extending his hand for a shake. “Really nice to meet you.”

“You too. Didn’t realize that it was customary for your brothers to attack you when returning home,” you laugh as Ron shakes his head. 

“Neither did I. Every day is a surprise here,” he huffs. “One second, pardon me,” he excuses himself. “’Mione! Fred’s girlfriend is here!” Ron calls up the stairs. “Gin and ‘Mione have been dying for another girl in the house for forever. She’ll be happy to see you.”

You smile at Ron, “Always good to have more girls. Gotta balance out the playing field.” 

As soon as you say that, who you can assume is Hermione along with another boy with jet black hair comes down the stairs, of which you can assume is Harry Potter. Ron was right about Hermione, she was over the moon to have another girl in the house. To quote her, she said, “Thank Godric. Do you know what’s it’s like living with mostly boys? Do you know how many times I’ve almost fall into the toilet because the seat was still up? Too many times, Ronald Weasley!” 

Harry on the other hand was much more soft-spoken, but equally as witty as Ron and Hermione. Again, making a comment based on how you were way out of Fred’s league. “Merlin, Fred, how do you do it?” Harry said. “(Y/N), blink once if you need help,” Harry joked, making Ron and Ginny crack up. You, of course, played along with the joke, blinking three times, making the friends laugh harder.

“Okay, okay, enough of that,” Fred pulls you away. “Percy! Mate!”

Coming from outside was who you assumed was Percy alongside Mr. Weasley. Both of them in work clothes, covered in dirt and such, from working outside. “Freddie! George!” Percy beams before engulfing his two brothers in bear hugs. The sight made your heart warm. The love that this family had for each other was enough to make you melt. “Great to see you again. You’re (Y/N), right? Lovely to meet you. So glad you could come over for the weekend!” Percy shakes your hand excitedly as you smile.

“I’m glad to be here!” you admit, now truthfully. Everyone was so lovely and warm.  Percy steps away so now Mr. Weasley could meet you. “Mr. Weasley, thank you so much for having me. I’m so delighted to meet you and your family,” you beam.

Mr. Weasley gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen and grabs one of your hands squeezing it. “We are even more delighted to have you as a guest in our home. Oh, and please don’t call me Mr. Weasley. Arthur is just fine,” he smiles. “Speaking of our home, where is your mother?” Arthur looks the the rest of the group as they shrug. “Molly! Your sons and their guest have arrived!!” Arthur bellows up the stairs.

Seconds later, a glowing older woman starts down the winding staircase in the middle of the home, beaming, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I was making their bed with fresh sheets. Now where are my loves?” Mrs. Weasley looks at her twins and tears start to form in her eyes. “Oh, my babies!” she exclaims as Fred and George engulf their shorter mother in a tight hug. “You boys don’t come home enough. I know the business is doing great, but please come home more. We miss you dearly,” she pinches their cheeks lovingly as George kisses his mother’s cheek.

Fred starts, “We miss you, too, Mum. Always.” Mrs. Weasley smiles at her son. “Mum, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N).”

Within mere seconds, Mrs. Weasley has scooped you into a hug, squeezing you tight as you giggle at the gesture. “Oh, my dear, it’s so wonderful to meet you at last. I can’t believe Freddie was hiding you from me all this time,” she gushes before holding you at arm’s length. “Beautiful American thing you are! Goodness, Fred, well done!” Fred rolls his eyes, making you giggle.

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Weasley,” you smile warmly at your boyfriend’s mother.

She instantly starts shaking her head, “Oh no, dear. My name is Molly. Not Mrs. Weasley. Please, I insist.” You smile at her with a small blush on your cheeks. It had only been ten minutes, but you felt more at home than ever. “You are just a peach!” she pinches your cheek. “Adorable. You hungry, dear? Cuppa tea? I have dinner in the oven. We’re having roast chicken. Freddie told me that was your favorite meal. Lucky for you, it’s the dish I’m best at,” she whispers the last part to you as you giggle.

This family was doing everything they could to make you feel at home and it was surely working. You felt like you belonged here. Molly linked your arms together, insisting you tell her everything you and Fred had been doing as a couple for the last three months as she made you a cup of tea. “Mum’s already stolen her,” George nudges his twin with a cocky smile. “Good luck trying to get her back.”

But you didn’t mind being stolen off by Molly Weasley. The woman was a delight. She was sweet, kind, and so thoughtful. Molly loved hearing the way you spoke of her son. “You speak of him like he’s the only man on this planet,” she coos as she poured you tea. 

You blush a wild shade of pink. Maybe you had to get used to blushing around the Weasley family. “He’s the only man on this planet for me,” you shrug. “Fred is a proper gentleman, Molly. Really.” Molly rolls her eyes, knowing how abrasive her own son could be. “No, seriously,” you laugh. “All of the boys that I’ve dated are all back in America, sure, but none can hold a candle to Fred. Honestly.”

Molly squeezes your hand, “And I hope it stays that way, my dear. The way that Fred speaks of you is unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him before. Hold onto each other. What you have already is worth it.”

“Thank you,” you squeeze Molly’s hand back. 

The dinner hour soon rolled around which meant the arrival of more Weasleys. As everyone was finding their seat, two more people apparated into the Burrow. “Bill!” Ron exclaimed before engulfing his brother in a hug. Bill stood tall next to a beautiful blonde haired woman who you assume to be his wife, Fleur. The couple was breathtakingly beautiful. 

Fred leaned down next to you. “That’s Bill and his wife, Fleur,” Fred confirmed your thoughts. “Fleur is part Veela. She has a...complicated relationship with my mother and Ginny. But no need to worry, that ship has sailed. She’s actually quite lovely,” Fred tells you as you nod.

Knowing that Molly Weasley didn’t instantly take a liking to everyone made you think about the initial reaction she had to you. It made you feel better how warm she was towards you, even though you wouldn’t wish coldness from the Weasleys on anyone. 

“Bill, Fleur, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N),” Fred introduces you to his brother and his wife. 

Bill shakes your hand with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you,” he beams. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Bill teased his brother.

“Keeping me a secret, eh?” you look at Fred.

“An American girlfriend! Oh, this is brilliant,” Bill laughs. “Looking forward to getting to know you,” he speaks.

You turn to Bill’s wife, Fleur who gives you a small smile. “Nice to see another girl in the ‘ouse,” she beams. “You are quite beautiful,” Fleur beams as you blush yet again. But this time it felt different. A Veela complimenting you on your beauty. “’ow did you manage to get ‘er, Fred?” Fleur keeps the teasing going as he groans.

“Bloody hell, I get it! My girlfriend is gorgeous, and American, and out of my league! Are we eating dinner?” Fred tries to change the subject which just makes everyone else laugh.

Dinner was divine. Molly really knew how to cook and boy, did she make a feast. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables, gravy, bread and chocolate cake for desert. Fred had told his mother what you’re favorite foods were and she gladly obliged to making all of them to which you thanked her profusely for. 

Ron leaned back in his seat as the dishes were being magically cleaned. “You should come over more, (Y/N),” he rubs his belly, full of dinner, making you laugh.

Ginny sprung from her seat, pulling Harry up with her. “Well, digest quickly, Ron. The sun is setting and George promised me a game of quidditch before nightfall,” Ginny smirks at her older brother who groans.

“Quidditch? After this meal? What are you trying to do, Gin? Make me have a heart attack?” he complains. “Why can’t we do a morning game?”

“Cause you always sleep through morning matches!” Harry defends Ginny who smiles proudly at him. “Get your lazy arse up and get a broom!”

Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, Ron, and Bill all rise from the table and rush to the garden shed to grab brooms. You just laugh along with Fleur and Hermione at the table before you three rise from the table, walking outside to watch the game that would eventually descend into madness. 

Hermione runs ahead of you and Fleur and to the backyard, calling out, “I’ll be score keep!” 

Fleur turns to you and smiles, “’Ow are you feeling? I know the feeling of meeting the family for the first time. Although, I think you and I ‘ad different experiences.”

You give Fleur a knowing smile. “They’re a lovely family. I was very nervous to come here because I didn’t know how they would react to have a complete stranger in their house, but they’re really great. Freddie was right.”

Fleur links your arms together as you walk to a small clearing in the backyard as the lot before you hops on brooms and takes to the skies. “I know I ‘ave my ‘istory with the Weasleys, but they are very good people. Kind people. Genuine. And I know, Fred. I saw the way ‘e looked at you at dinner. The boy loves you very much. And being loved by a Weasley,” she looks up at her husband, laughing on a broom as he pats Freddie’s shoulder, “it’s the greatest feeling in the world. ‘old onto ‘im, (Y/N).”

Your heart swells at Fleur’s words. It was beautiful to see the way she spoke of Bill. How she looked at him. You could only wish that you had that kind of love with Fred. “Thank you, Fleur. That means a lot,” you squeeze her hand. 

The two of you look to the sky to see the lot waiting. “Are you all going to start this game or not? I wanna see some action!” you tease those in the sky as Fleur giggles next to you. “You gonna win for me, Freddie?” you give him a wink.

Fred scoffs, “Of course I am.”

The quidditch game had ended quite quickly after a brief thirty minute game, Harry catching the snitch with ease. “That’s what happens when you challenge the best quidditch player of this generation,” he sticks his tongue out at Ginny who rolls her eyes and shoves her boyfriend inside.

“Wonder what happens if I beat up the best quidditch player of all time,” Ginny speaks as Harry laughs before running up the stairs away from his girlfriend who had just lost the quidditch match.

As the group files back in again, Bill and Fleur make their way upstairs back to his old room. Ron and Hermione scramble into the living room, Hermione challenging Ron to a chess match, giggling as Ron places a sneaky kiss on her cheek, George throwing playful punches at Fred who slaps his bum, running away as George yells at him. Percy, who sits in the recliner groans, “Can you be any louder? I’m trying to read!”

George looks at Fred who has a devilish smile on his cheeks. “Be louder? Alright!” Fred exclaims before he and George link arms and start scream singing a random song that came to their heads, making you shake your head and laugh. 

Percy just leans further back into his chair with a sigh, but there is a small smile on his face as he watches his twin brothers, dance around the living room, occasionally letting a chuckle out here and there. 

You sit on the couch, observing it all take place. To an outside eye, the Weasley house looked chaotic. But really, it was perfectly orchestrated. Everyone had their own thing to do, but still interacted and operated alongside each other without fail. Ron and Hermione quietly playing cheer in the corner, little giggles here and there. Percy reading a book, curled up in the corner. Ginny and Harry running up and down the stairs, in and out of the house. Bill and Fleur upstairs, getting ready for bed. Molly in the kitchen, cleaning up before getting ready to retire to her bedroom where Arthur was surely waiting after finishing the garden work. Fred and George acting like fools in the living room, babbling about the shoppe. The house was like an orchestra, each person playing their part that was very different from the others, but they all clicked together to make beautiful music.

Beside you on the couch, Fred sits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “First day at the Burrow. How are you liking it?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You cup his cheek with your hand, brushing your thumb against it. “It’s perfect here. I can see why you love it so much,” you admit as he smiles, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. “Your family is so sweet. I really adore them already.”

“And they adore you. Mum especially. She was gushing to Dad about you over dinner whilst you talked to Ginny and Harry,” Fred confides in you as your heart swells. His family liking you was all that mattered. “You’re smashing it. But I knew you would,” he shrugs as you giggle. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Kissing his lips gently, you speak, “I’m glad I came.”

----

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff​ @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @lol-idk-oops​ @vogueweasley​

[mrsmaybank]

Gas Station Girl - Spencer Reid x Reader CH 2

Spencer Reid’s first impression of the Reader is mixed. She’s “audacious, promiscuous, clever, and troubled.” and there is so many things Spencer would like to do about it.

A/N: I’m writing a Spencer Reid x Reader multific! The series will be intense and 18+. Age gaps, Explicit sexual content, angst, family issues, dark themes including: violence, suicide, murder, death, blood, and drug addiction. Chapters will of course have trigger warnings depending on the content. Enjoy and PLEASE leave me feedback!

CHAPTER ONE HERE 

A/N2: This chapter definitely gives off “Fixing Somebody” vibes, which is wrong and I am NOT romanticizing it. This story is FICTIONAL, and meant for ENTERTAINMENT purposes only.  If this isn’t your thing, don’t read this chapter! Also, I wanted it to kinda be a slowburn, so there isn’t anything SPICY or explicitly romantic YET, but expect it soon!! 

TW: Language, age gap, ANGST, alcohol consumption, mentions of molly, & mentions of blood 

Fic Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4WYosdR6Tz4y9lsmUghoMU?si=ZvyS_2oqSDW95PxULRs2fQ

It had been a busy two weeks since Spencer had met his gas station girl, and everytime his mind had a second to wander they thought’ve her under the neon lights. Her voice above the zoom of speeding cars, and the perfect shape her lips made when she exhaled the smoke in her lungs. The way she sang in his car like a public flaunt of freedom, like she had no responsibilities or a care in the world. It made him think more, where’d she come from? What’d she been through? Under what circumstances was this mystifying character for a girl been procured? It didn’t take a BA in psychology to decide the circumstances probably weren’t entirely pleasant, and the thoughts made him more sad then he cared to admit. That being said, there wasn’t much time to let his mind wander. As cases seemed to be piling up on different sides of the country, the Doctor spent almost every hour in the past two weeks working alongside his team to solve them.  

Now it was 7:30 on a Friday night, and the members of the BAU were preparing for something they were all in desperate need of. A Rossi dinner party, with lots of pasta and lots of wine. Spencer closed the file, at last he was finally finished with all the paperwork necessary to officially close the case. He walked over to the coffee station, pouring himself a cup with too much sugar, looking over the office to see his team members doing the same thing he was a couple minutes ago. Frantically dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s so they could get out of this damn office and have a nice dinner with their friends.

Morgan got up and threw his hands up in victory. 

“I’m done man! I am done for the day!” he practically threw his files into the cabinet. “Rossi’s probably already home by now. Pretty boy ride with me to the liquor store before we go?”

Reid took the final sip of his overly sweet coffee, “Sure, see you guys there?” he asked his co-workers. 

Penelope muttered an “Hmmhmm”, but the rest of his teammates were still eyes glued to their screens and paperwork. 

Derek and Reid got in the car, laughing and talking about random things.

“I know it’s out of the way, but Prentiss and I are in a challenge to see who can find the most expensive wines for cheap, and I read online that this specific liquor store sells a 1962 bottle of red from Italy dude, for $19 dollars. I don’t care if it tastes like rotten grapes, I just wanna win this stupid ass game.” 

Spencer laughed at his antics, “You guys are weird.” 

“Coming from you!” Derek rebutted, pulling into the parking lot. 

Spencer did a double take, but he recognized her instantly. Dirty sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tiny gray tank-top, a beautiful face framed in messy hair. What the fuck was she doing now? As he got a better look though, his concern grew. Her once bright eyes were dull, ringed with make-up that looked like residue from sobbing, her lips were puffy and it looked like there was dried blood on the bottom one, dirt on her knees. She looked awful, well still beautiful, but awful.  

Derek noticed his friend’s intense stare at the broken-looking girl, sitting on the sidewalk, brown bagged drink in one hand, cigarette in the other. “You know her?” 

“Uh, yeah. We met at a gas station once.” 

Derek parked and looked him right in the eye, “You met at a gas station once?” 

“Yeah.” Spencer unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car into her direction. 

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped in surprise and fear, and Spencer’s heart broke at her reaction. 

“Spencer?” She looked like a deer in headlights, nothing like the tough, independent girl he’d met that night at the 7/11. 

“Hey.” he said softly, “Are you okay?” 

She seemed to break out of her trance at the question, a wall rebuilding, a strange glint in her eye, and Spencer noticed. “What? Yeah. Totally cool.” she said, followed by a spit of blood and a wipe of her mouth. 

“Not to profile you or anything, but you don’t really seem okay.” 

“Dr, FBI, sir, you don’t actually know anything about me. Who are you to judge if I’m okay or not?” She slurred defensively. It wasn’t evident before, but she was absolutely wasted. 

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But I can’t leave you here. Not safe. Is there somebody I can call?” 

“Yeah, yeah, my sister, Carmen.” 

“Okay, I’ll call her. What’s her number?” he said pulling out his phone/ 

“Oh fuck, I forgot.”

“Her number?” 

“No, no.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “She's probably strung out on molly naked on a park bench right now!” She laughed almost manically. 

Spencer felt his heart break a little more, this girl needed help right now. “A friend?” 

She laughed again, it was a broken, sad laugh, and Spencer hated the sound. “It’s Friday. My friends are probably--” she noticed the concerned look on Spencer’s face. “Nevermind.” 

“Y/N, is there anybody?” 

“Yeah, yeah there’s somebody.” she put out her cigarette. “Call him. His name is Teddy.” she handed him her phone. 

She played with her shoes as she heard the number dial, and the familiar voice of her ex, answering with an all too familiar irritation that stung more than she’d like to admit. 

“Teddy? It’s Dr. Spencer Reid. Hey yeah. I’m with Y/N here, she’s not doing so well. Can you come pick her up?” Pause. “I’ll send you our location.” Pause. “Cool, thank you.” 

Both Spencer and Derek waited for Teddy to arrive, Spencer next to her on the sidewalk, Derek in the car, with so many questions. When Teddy did arrive, Spencer couldn’t help but profile him. 

The way he interacted with her, they must be close, or had been at some point. He took off his flannel and wrapped Y/N in it. It was so cliche a girl like her had a guy like this at her call, Spencer thought. Though it wasn’t obvious, he was younger then Spencer, slightly taller, tattooed and undoubtedly a little rougher around the edges. 

He politely thanked Spencer for calling him, put Y/N in his passenger seat, and as as they pulled out of the parking space, he could hear him tell her something, “Fuck Y/N, what the fuck happened?”

Spencer watched as they drove away, utterly speechless. They were practically worlds apart, and Spencer had this absolutely burning desire to figure out hers. What was going on in that beautiful head? What was going on in that melancholy short film for a life? How could he fix it? 

______________________________________________________________

Taglist (Comment to be added!) : @hailey-the-heathen @sailorjade125@criminalmindzjunkie

[quartzwriting]

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader

Description: You offer Bucky coffee, with an accidental espresso shot, and the caffeine gets to him. Fall themed!

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev on Jan 21, 2019 /  Sorry if Bucky feels out of character, I blame the caffeine I gave him / Written for Alex 

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

“Where is he?”

Steve looked up from his breakfast and pointed to the open door of the fridge. Tony was rummaging through it while mumbling to himself, but perking up at the sound of your voice. He had a strawberry in his mouth, there he goes snacking again. Food never seems to last in the tower.

You held up the tray and Tony's face lit up. He wanted you to do his morning Starbucks run. Even if the tower had plenty of coffee and tea options, he needed his pumpkin spice latte and he wanted it done right. You never thought Tony would be that type of person, to like sugary and basic white bitch drinks, but he is apparently.

“I’m not Pepper.” You said blankly, eyeing the man as he approached to claim his drink. “Why did I have to go and get your coffee?”

“Because you’re the one who messed up on the last mission, (Y/N).” Tony answered with an fake innocent smile.

“I tripped!” You gasped in defense, really you tripped. It was an accident but it made a domino effect and you almost costed everyone the mission. The guys in the tower were not going to let you forget anytime soon, it was too embarrassing. And you were thankful Sam didn't have a camera because that would be the worst.

“You just need to have your pumpkin spice latte.” Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Get in the fall spirit, Rogers.” Tony said, taking one of the cups from the tray greedily.

“I can only imagine what he’ll do on Halloween…” You mumbled under your breath. The over the top decorations and his making everyone play along with his enthusiasm...Oh no what about Christmas...you didn’t even want to think about Christmas.

Before you knew it Tony left with his coffee, not even thanking you for going out in the cold to get it. Something wanted you to go follow him and shove the other three steaming hot cups down the front of his shirt, but you refrained since you wanted one of them for yourself.

Instead you bottled up your frustrations and you took one for yourself and gave one to Steve. Tony paid for it so it doesn't matter, free coffee for you then!

While taking a sip of your own delicious latte, you heard heavy footsteps enter the room. Soon Bucky groaned and dragged himself into the kitchen.

“Morning Bucky.” You said, taken aback by his sudden appearance. He simply nodded in response, he was not a morning person. It seemed that your heart jumped to your throat every time he acknowledged your existence, and you’ll take a simple nod as one.

“Come on Buck, wake up. We got training to do.” Steve announced, cleaning up his dishes.

“Yeah yeah I know. God, you’re so loud.” Bucky looked like he could use a few more hours of sleep, or a few gallons of coffee. He slowly made his way to the pantry and stumbled dug for the breakfast bars, a quick breakfast before training.

"Hey Bucky, you want one?" You offered him one of the coffee cups, knowing it was a dangerous game you were playing by speaking to him this early in the morning. But thankfully he didn't chop your head off, he merely turned around to see what you had offered.

"What is it?" He asked, staring at the cup with a blank face.

"Pumpkin spice latte."

Bucky looked skeptical, but took it and raised it to his lips to take a sip. The sugar hit him before the caffeine.

"It's sweet."

"See its not that bad." Steve chimed in, drinking his own latte.

"The future is weird..." He mumbled, sending a slightly amused-looking smile in your direction. You didn't know if you wanted to scream or run to your room and hide.

"Technically its the present." Steve tried to be smart.

"Shut up." Bucky started to walk out of the room, still slightly groggy (the caffeine would kick in soon though) but he looked back. “That scarf looks good on you.”

You glanced down at it, fleece and yellow plaid. You grew shy and scratched the back of your head. “Thanks.” You realized it came out as a mere squeak.

He smiled and left after muttering "Thank you, (Y/N)", probably to get ready for training. Deep down you didn't want to see him go, and you heart pounded when he said your name.

"Weird."

"Hm?" You turned to Steve.

"He usually hates mornings, he looked happy."

It just dawned on you. Everyone feared bothering Bucky when it was too early, and on a normal day he would go into full Winter Soldier mode when anyone dared to step across the line of 'I'm too tired to be alive right now and I'll murder you and burn your body if you get in my face'. Maybe it was the latte you gave him, to your knowledge Bucky didn't drink coffee much.

Then you realized something...

Oh Shit.

"Oh no," You knew Steve would scold you, so you changed your wording in your head before it came out of your mouth.

"What?"

"I gave Bucky the one with the espresso shot..."

The Captain chuckled and patted your shoulder, "Its fine, he needs it."

You slightly laughed, if it made him a little less of a morning grump then why not.

"Don't worry, it probably will not turn out as bad as that one time when Pietro had just regular coffee." Steve remembered.

So many things in the Tower were broken that day, Tony was furious. There was plenty of yelling, and the speedster almost passed out from the overdrive. From that day forwards, Pietro was never allowed to have coffee ever again.

"But I kinda needed that espresso shot..." You groaned.

"Calm down, you'll live." He said it so simply you almost wanted to knock him upside the head. Then he mumbled something; "Also I don't think the coffee was the reason he was happy-"

"What?"

He ignored you.

"Well I'm gonna head to the training room, see ya kid." Cap left the kitchen, leaving you with your latte (that sadly wasn't strong enough to kill your exhaustion) and you finally could have your breakfast. Because someone didn't let you do anything until you fetched their morning coffee (Tony "Im Iron Man and Im Superior To You" Stark).

~~~

"Who gave Bucky caffeine?" Sam announced to everyone in the training room while eyeing the man, who was now finishing his latte.

"You're just a sore loser." Bucky placed the empty cup back on the table and was ready to spar with his friendly rival again. Bugging Sam was his favorite past time.

"No really, who thought that would be a good idea?" Sam didn't drop it.

The glass doors to the training room opened and you walked in, holding your tablet and flipping through the new file you just received from SHEILD headquarters. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, you were abruptly interrupted.

"It was her." Cap threw you under the bus.

"What did I do?" You whined.

And the next few seconds was a quick-fire dispute, remarks shot through the air like bullets.

"You gave Bucky coffee." Sam pointed at you.

"So?" You asked.

"That's a bad idea." Sam snapped.

"Sore loser~" Bucky sang.

"Shut up." Sam shot.

"You are a sore loser Sam" You mocked.

"Shut it!" Sam warned.

"Sooorrrreee loooser!" Bucky stretched out.

"QUIET!" Sam barked.

"I need another." Bucky sighed.

"You are not having another." Sam snapped.

"(Y/N), can I have another?"

"Bad idea" You admitted.

"Enough!" Natasha raised her voice and the arguing stopped suddenly. "God, you three are like nagging seagulls. You don't shut up."

"Sam's the seagull." Bucky made one last snarky remark, making you snort while you tried to hold in your laughter.

Before Sam could attack again, you finally spoke up. "Just got a new mission file from Fury. He says it's urgent."

Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Clint (who had been enjoying the argument quietly) all gathered around you. You projected the file into a hologram and blew it up so everyone could see.

"Security breach at a lab in France." Nat read the notes.

"So? Just a lab," Bucky shrugged, then thought about it, "right?"

You zoomed into the picture on the file, the logo looked strikingly familiar.

"Haven't we been keeping tabs on them?" Clint asked.

"We have." You worked quickly and pulled up a case file SHIELD had been watching carefully. They matched, the lab's company specialized in fusing technology into human anatomy, in the most illegal ways, sketchy black market stuff.

With a few more buttons pressed, you pulled up the live security cameras of the laboratory. There was a black van parked outside. It hit everyone.

"HYDRA." Steve breathed, and everyone knew it was important to leave to France as soon as possible.

"So who's going, Cap?" You asked, and soon everyone was looking at him with anticipation.

He didn't even need to think, he knew who he wanted. "Nat, Clint, Sam, you're with me on this one."

Those selected celebrated, there hadn't been a decent mission in a while. While those who weren't going, meaning you and Bucky, pouted.

"HA!" Sam jabbed a finger in Bucky's face. "You're not going!"

"Don't care!" Bucky shot back, pretending like it was true. It was a lie.

~~~

With some of the Avengers gone on a mission the tower was a little more quiet, probably because it was still early or because Sam and Bucky were separated. Both were very likely. With everyone else asleep, you and Bucky were the only ones up. After the others went on the mission, you decided to look through some more case files to see if you could find anything that could help down the road.

While sitting in the lounge and listening to some music, you tried to stay focused. You tried to stay awake while simultaneously trying to stay warm from the cold weather outside. It was beautiful and sunny, but it was freezing non the less. Snuggling under a blanket had proven to be a solution to only one of your problems,  you were growing drowsy again. If only you had got that extra espresso shot.

Speaking of that espresso shot...

"Hey (Y/N)!"

Jumping from the sudden voice, you looked over and saw Bucky enter the lounge. The couch dipped down as he sat beside you, and he seemed to be full of energy.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Someone's cheerful this morning." You sat up and tilted your head as you spoke.

"I think it was the coffee you gave me." He chuckled.

"Yeah about that..." You started shyly, "I accidentally gave you the one with the extra espresso shot..."

It clicked in his head, "Well that explains it, I guess I couldn't taste it from how sweet it was-" He caught himself, "not that it wasn't good. I liked it. I appreciated it, thanks (Y/N)."

Regardless of his growing awkwardness, which you wanted to explode from because he was too cute, he was speaking a mile a minute.

"You alright, Buck?" You asked, "A little hyper."

"Maybe Sam was right...no more coffee for me." He admitted to himself, looking a bit sad. He must have liked the pumpkin spice latte while it lasted.

”Maybe you need to burn it off.” You suggested.

”Tried to during training, not working, still buzzed.”

“Maybe try going outside, go for a run maybe.”

He gave it a thought, then turned to you with something in his eyes. "What do you say we go for a walk? It's pretty nice outside." Bucky smiled at you.

Forget how cold it was today, going outside to hang out with Bucky was worth it.

"Sure!" You said, maybe sounding a little to enthusiastic.

”Alright, can we go now? If that’s alright?” He said shyly, practically bouncing in his seat.

”Yeah sure, no problem.” You both got up off the couch.

”Okay dress warm, meet you back here.” Bucky dashed off to get his coat. You laughed at how energized he was, and assumed this would be like taking a dog on a walk (or more like a dog taking you on a walk).

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [07]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption w.c; 3.5k a/n; the beginning of the end! like my mama said while i was cleaning my room, it has to get messy before it gets clean! that being said this is a series for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! now that we’ve gotten this far, would you say our heroine has truly lost her mind? 

[06] [07] [08] -> masterpost

Something is off and Jungkook doesn’t know exactly what, and therefore he has no way to approach it. 

HIs knee is bobbing uncontrollably as he throws his phone back and forth from one palm to another. He’s in a recording studio downtown, in an unfamiliar area that made Jungkook thankful that he decided to leave an hour early. He hears some hushed voices from another room, and he tries not to fiddle around too much as the chair in the waiting area is rickety and on its last limb. 

You texted him this morning with your usual pleasantries, saying you had a fun lesson to teach today and you couldn’t wait to set up your classroom. You’re also equally excited for Jungkook’s first recording session, and you urge him to “knock the socks off this producer guy.” 

But since that night you slept over, you haven’t brought up the tears you shed in his sheet. You’ve been painfully amicable, insisting that you’ll tell him when the time is right. 

Jungkook wants to be patient for you, and he will be. But he doesn’t know how to help you, help the two of you move forward without any context. He gets that the memories that are holding you back are painful, but he wishes to help ease that burden. Jungkook’s head starts to spin at all the possibilities that he could get you to feel comfortable enough to talk. 

“Hey,” Jungkook’s reverie shatters when a small guy in all black comes up to meet him. Jungkook shoots up, hand immediately darting out to shake the older one’s hand. He chuckles, “Jihoon sent me your demo last week. You have some killer vocals.” 

“Thanks,” he replies bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Jungkook, by the way.” 

“Right,” the producer nods, gesturing for him to follow him down the hall. “I’m Min Yoongi.” 

Jungkook nearly trips over himself. He’s heard that name before, he’s sure of it. He tries to wrack his brain for the memory, something he’s brushed to the side after so long.

“Jungkook!” you cried. He was paralyzed when you first met, a frazzled woman shoving herself on him like you’ve known him his entire life. He didn’t know why you were trying to hide him, but you looked so terrified he couldn’t formulate a quick enough response. “Kook, what the fuck? It’s broad daylight, you can’t be out like this without a mask! Where on earth did you hide that bike? Dispatch will have your ass and the devil Min Yoongi’ll kill you again for sneaking out—” 

“Uh, Yoongi?” the pair step inside his little studio, neat and monochromatic. There’s a comfy couch in the corner, and Jungkook seats himself there while Yoongi slides into his rolling chair. “Do you by any chance know someone named y/n?

Yoongi shrugs, too busy going through his computer files to take notice of Jungkook’s wheels turning. “No, should I?” 

“Guess not,” Jungkook mutters, “what about Dispatch? Are you involved with them?” 

The older one swirls around in his chair, knuckles nestled in his milky cheeks. “Is this an interrogation?” 

Suddenly feeling hot, Jungkook shakes his head. “Sorry.” 

“But to answer your question, thankfully no,” Yoongi leans back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, “thankfully they’ve been smoked out ever since they got sued for defamation against that SNSD member, among dozens of other women. That was what, two years ago? But my artists are always squeaky clean.” 

Jungkook grapples the pieces in his brain, feeling the sudden itch to text you. 

“You’re askin’ a lot of weird questions, kid,” Yoongi says simply, “but since you have the voice of a fuckin’ angel on Cloud 9, I’m willing to overlook it.” 

The younger one nods wordlessly, letting Yoongi go on a tangent as he describes the song he has in mind and how he wants to approach it. He tries to focus, and intermittently fails as he falls in and out of thought, always coming back to you. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Hoseok, I feel it.” 

“Feel what, nausea? Heartburn, indigestion? Upset stomach? Diarrhea?” 

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Noona?” Bogum is sitting next to you on the picnic blanket laid out for the both of you. Today was supposed to be Hoseok’s off day, but Bogum’s mom offered Hoseok a pretty penny to take Bogum for the day while she had to attend a last-minute work project. 

“Yes, Bogummie. Although it was a terrible joke,” you admonish, sending a playful grin to Hoseok. 

“Do you like my new shoes?” with the attention span of a squirrel, Bogum hops up and jumps up and down on the grass. His new Elmo sneakers light up and make little squeaking sounds, “isn’t it cool! My shoes talk while I walk!” 

You giggle, “Yeah, now we’ll never lose you when you go off to the bathroom,” you reach for his sippy cup and instruct him to drink water, “go play on the slide, we’ll watch you from here!” 

Bogum immediately agrees, shuffling away with rhythmic squeaks from his sneakers as he bumbles over to the small playground on campus. Without the presence of children, you feel Hoseok’s eyes train on you as you try to formulate a response. 

“I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I felt a little too… settled?” you taste the word on your tongue, hoping it matches with the turmoil going through your brain. You continue to stare at Bogum, not a care in the world as he goes down the slide for the nth time, “my life isn’t moving forward anymore. It’s so, peaceful?” you nod at your question, then turn to smile sadly at Hoseok. 

“This might be the last time we see each other.” 

While you don’t know the rules and regulations of whatever fate or magic that brought you here, you always knew that this time had to end. You feel like you’ve experienced enough in this small lifetime to feel this kind of contentment. Any further into this life and you could change it however way you wanted to. 

You didn’t want to do that. You wanted to go home. 

Hoseok’s smile is equally sombre, but he plays it off with a scoff. “I guess this is the part where you leave me and I have to go on with the rest of my life questioning whether these past two months were real or a crazy drug trip while I spend nighttimes TL;DR-ing our story on Reddit.” 

You break into laughter, clutching your stomach as you try your hardest not to think too heavily of this moment. “Hobi, you won’t be alone in this. I’m going to tell Jungkook tonight,” you confess, “I don’t know how he’s gonna take it, but try to be there for him. For me?” 

Hoseok tilts his head to the side, “In your world, were me and Jungkook close?” 

You hide your grin by taking a sip of your water bottle, “Very close. He sobbed himself a river when you wanted to quit the group.” 

“Hm, maybe we’ll be close someday too.” 

“Maybe,” you pull out your phone, instructing Hoseok to do the same as he waits for whatever you’re about to send him. 

Hoseok phone pings and he opens the document you just shared with him. His brows knit at the neat notes, zooming in the small font. “What is this?” 

“For when the other me comes back in my place,” you lean over him to point out the details highlighted in light blue on your digital document. There’s addresses, student details, lesson agendas, even the money you spent while you used the bank account. “it’s in her drive, but I think she might… freak out regardless. If I really got hit by that oncoming truck, I don’t know what she’s going to be feeling. At least this is a quick cheat-sheet, so she can catch up on the past two months and continue on with her life.” 

You try to tamp down the guilt that you feel, knowing your alter-self could be in a far more dangerous situation than you right now. 

“So if you can stop by the apartment tomorrow—Taehyung and I changed the keycode a couple days ago, maybe bring over some coffee so you two can talk it out?” 

“Of course, don’t worry about us,” and Hoseok starts to get teary, which makes you get teary as he says his next words, “once you go back, I want you to be happy, okay? We can’t exactly text or—or F-Facetime like we always—oh shit,” he shoves the sleeve of his hoodie in his eyes, “w-why does it feel like you’re dying or something?” 

You throw your arms around him, letting him cry on your shoulder. You sigh into his amber bangs, his long fingers digging into your wrist but you don’t care. Knowing letting go was going to be hard, you’ve emotionally prepped yourself since this morning, but it doesn’t hurt any less when you’ve become so close with Hoseok. 

“Who knows?” you run your fingers through his hair, in an attempt to soothe him, “maybe I’ll have another taste of that angel wine. You’ll show up in my dreams or something.” 

He shakes his head, “Hell no. What if Jungkook really decks you with his motorcycle the second time around?” 

“True,” you say, “I’ll miss you, Hobi.” 

“Do me a favor when you get back, yeah?” he breaks apart from your embrace, squeezing your shoulders. “Go find me and try harder to be my friend, alright?” 

You deflate a little, “But you’re so cool, I’m a little intimidated. It’s different when you’re surrounded by kids like a mama duck.” 

“I know I’m cool, but just try,” he says, “and I’ll try to be your friend again, too.” 

The two of you hug again, this time not saying anything. At this time Bogum waddles up to the two of you, sweaty and damp as he collapses onto the blanket. The two of you laugh as Hoseok presses a paper towel to the boy’s head. 

Bogum scrunches his nose, “Why are you crying?” 

You sigh, reaching to lightly pinch his forearm. “I’m going to be gone for a little bit. So take care of Hoseok while I’m gone, okay?” 

Bogum frowns, but puffs his chest out and nods, “When will I see you again?” 

Instead of you answering, Hoseok cuts in for you. “Soon,” he says with finality, eyes darting between you and a satisfied Bogum. He looks at you and mouths, we’ll figure it out. 

This time around, you know you don’t have to worry. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Jungkook’s waiting in your room,” Taehyung jabs a thumb in the direction of your shared hallway. “Probably passed out and took a nap.” 

“Oh?” you check your phone, “he’s early then.” 

Taehyung shrugs, the strap off his backpack sliding down to his elbows. “Looked a little frazzled. Maybe he had a long day.” 

“Yeah, he said he had his first recording session. Maybe it was overwhelming.” 

Taehyung nods, moving past you to get to the door. “I gotta go back to the studio,” he grimaces, slipping on his loafers, “literally don’t give two fucks about Tiffany’s seniority. Her fashion taste is complete garbage and I’m ready to spend the rest of the night fighting her for it.”

“Good luck,” and in your haste, you wrap your arms around his waist. 

Taehyung’s surprised by the sudden bout of affection, but he returns eagerly as he squeezes you back. “See you in the morning, we’ll go finish that Kim Seokjin drama we started.” 

You force a smile back, “Yeah, see you.” 

You don’t leave the little space by the door until you’re sure that Taehyung is completely gone from your vicinity. Relaxing your shoulders, you pull off your layers and bag and place them on your corner of the living room. 

Padding quietly, you take your time in turning the doorknob to your bedroom in case Jungkook is still sleeping. 

To your surprise Jungkook is not sleeping, however. He’s hovered over your desk, looking up at you from your yellow notebook. 

“Y’know,” he says, tone sharp, “you really shouldn’t just leave your stuff laying out here like this. Anyone can read it.” 

You bristle, shutting the door behind you even though Taehyung was already long gone. Maybe you wanted to contain everything in your room, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t run away at the story you had behind this. 

“Usually people don’t come into my room to read stuff off my desk.” 

“What is this?” he asks, “some sci-fi novel you’re concocting? Why do you have so much information about me?” 

Over the course of your two months, you’ve added more and more to your logbook. It was the little things at first, like the differences between the Hoseoks and the Jimins. But then you felt like you were starting to forget your life back in W1, so you got to writing memories. Stupid, little tidbits about your relationship with Jungkook. Or the brands of wine you and Sehlyung would fawn over during your nights out. 

But Jungkook is pointing to a particular page in your notebook, fingers digging so hard that his nails are turning white. You step further into the bedroom, taking slow steps as you approach your desk. 

One sleepless night, you took it upon yourself to write the lyrics to Still With You. The lyrics are written plain as day, glittered with star and moon designs and a little air conditioner decorating the margins.  

Your heart drops as you see the hurt marring Jungkook’s features. 

“I haven’t told anyone about the songs I’ve written,” he says, pain dripping from his voice, “not even Yoongi. How on earth could you have found my song? How could you have known that I wrote it one night against my air conditioner?” 

You feel like cotton is blocking your throat, “Jungkook, I wanted to tell you tonight—” 

“What, that you really are a crazy stalker?” he steps back, whirling around so now he’s the one in the direction of the door. He takes two steps back, closer to the exit. “That I’ve been so dumb to believe your lies? That I should’ve left you on the street? That you still see me in whatever Jungkook you once knew and now you’re taking it out on me?” 

“Jungkook, please listen—” 

“Because now I know you and I can’t work out,” he spits with finality, hands finally finding the doorknob, “we will never work out—” 

“I know!” you finally scream, and Jungkook falters. You’re shaking, but not erratically. You’re sobbing, shoulders wracking as you let your body collapse against the desk chair. This conversation feels startlingly familiar, as if you’re back to square one. “Dammit Jungkook, why won’t you listen? I knew we would never work out.” 

Jungkook itches to hold you, and comfort you. Instead he sticks by the doorknob, feeling true to his findings. After all, the evidence is all in your notebook. While hard to decipher, it’s clear as day that you always knew a lot more than you’ve led on. He wants to ask more, but he’s far too hurt to continue tonight. 

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers, and slams the door to your bedroom shut. 

Your body gives out, and you feel two tons heavier as you sink into your uncomfortable desk chair. Jungkook’s gone. Your heart’s not so much broken, but you feel awful for getting him mixed up into this. Seeing the betrayal and pain in his eyes is heartbreaking, especially coming from you, someone who doesn’t even belong here. 

The whole room seems to be suffocating you, swallowing you whole. A shelf filled with medical textbooks and science jargon. A corkboard filled with pictures of your friends and family, all memories that don’t belong to you. This isn’t your life. 

You need to get out of here, now. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1, four months before. 

Namjoon is sitting between Jungkook and you, like two children and a parent having to intervene. Only this time, you two are being child-like adults and Namjoon is taking up all the leg space sitting in the middle of the back row. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being squeezed through the open window, Namjoon refusing to adjust to his equally large size. He glares over his shoulder, finding you are paying no mind. He scoffs when he sees you nuzzled up against Namjoon’s blazer, babbling like a brook because you’re too wasted to form coherent sentences. 

“What were you going to achieve by doing that, huh?” Namjoon’s voice is devastatingly low, not bothering to look at the younger man. 

He sighs, letting the night breeze tickle his loose strands as he recalls what he did do. It’s all too clear on his end. Entering the bar was easy, after a few rounds with the gang Jungkook decided it was time to mingle. It doesn’t take long for a pretty girl to slide up next to him, with practiced ease finding her way to slot herself between his stretched out legs. And he let her. 

And you? You were livid, of course. He could practically feel the burn of your gaze singing at the back of his head. But you weren’t going to cause a scene, instead you favored Taehyung’s inability to relent and inhiberation to the highest degree. 

Which is why you’re all going home early, before it got too messy. 

Jungkook doesn’t answer in the quiet car, but your soft sobs do. 

You probably haven’t even registered that Jungkook is in the same vehicle. After all, they had to haul your deadweight into the seat because you could barely walk. 

“Why, wh-why Joonie?” your voice is muffled by the thick fabric of Namjoon’s tweed overcoat, nails digging into the seams. 

“Why what, bub?” 

“Why doesn’t he want me?” 

Jungkook’s throat clenches. 

“He’s just stupid,” Jungkook feels dumb, listening to Namjoon and you speak as if they’re all not pressed up against each other like skinny sardines in a too-hot van. “Not to be intrusive, but the two of you are in a complicated relationship.” 

You hum in agreement, your previous drunkenness mellowing out and turning into a tired haze. When you finally arrive at the apartment complex, Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to be the one to carry you upstairs. He barely gives Jungkook the opportunity as he sweeps you into his arms, making the way to your room. Jungkook follows the both of you like a stubborn duckling. 

When Namjoon manages to get the door unlocked, he turns to Jungkook. “You should go up with everyone else. Don’t bother coming in here unless you’re gonna apologize.” 

The door is wide open, and Namjoon straightens up as you float away to your bathroom, insisting you can wobble your way to get your makeup and clothes off. Jungkook tries his best to look confident in front of his elder, steeling his features. 

“I’ll apologize, you go up first.” 

Namjoon pulls his wristwatch out, “You got fifteen minutes. You can’t stay here tonight.” 

Jungkook flinches when he coolly brushes past him, slamming the door on his way out. He then busies himself in your small kitchenette, finding your favorite Hello Kitty mug and pouring you a glass of water. He places aspirin and the water next to your bedside table, ready when you need it. 

It’s been ten minutes since then, and he’s running out of time. Standing in front of your bathroom, he makes a move to knock. No answer. He can’t hear the water running, or faint lo-fi hip hop that you always liked to listen to before getting ready for bed. 

Taking a chance, he turns the knob only to find it unlocked. You’re sitting on the floor, knees hugged and only in a long t-shirt. 

“You can go,” you mumble into your knees, not wanting to make eye contact. “I’m fine.” 

Instead he fits himself into your bathroom, sitting next to you. You don’t bother to move and make room, so Jungkook has to squish himself to fit. “Listen, pretty girl–” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

He sighs, “I’m sorry. I was being a dick and you don’t deserve that. I disregarded our feelings and that isn’t fair to either of us.” 

“I said it was fine,” he sees how hard you’re glaring at the tile on your wall, nothing interesting but your eyes are ablaze. “I know why you did it.” 

He stays silent. 

“You want to push me away before we get hurt,” you state, “but you don’t get to decide that on your own, Jungkook. I’ll give you time, but don’t wag yourself in front of my face like I’m some shameless puppy begging for attention,” you get up shakily, and you hold out a hand in refusal to Jungkook’s immediate reaction, “it’s either all of me or none of me.” 

And for the second time that night the door slams in Jungkook’s face, forcing himself to make a decision. 

[taexual]

HOLIC - 34 | jb x reader

     gif cr. @jaelousy

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: sort of angsty but with fluff on top and some suggestive themes ;)

words: 4.4k

           prev / next

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Jaebum shook his head, still frantically pressing buttons on his phone, trying to understand where was the turn that he was supposed to take. He’d already pulled to the side of the road as he attempted to locate where you were on the tiny Google-supplied map but his phone refused to cooperate further.

“I can’t do anything with this thing,” he growled, tossing the phone on his lap in exasperation as he reached over the backseat to get his travel bag. “The battery’s almost dead.”

“Great!” you threw your hands in the air, nearly hitting the roof of the car in the process. “So, you got us lost and now your phone’s—”

“I didn’t get us lost,” he cut you off, pausing to give you a stern look. “If anything, it was you and your game. I got distracted and must have missed a couple of turns.”

“So it’s my fault now?” you scoffed. “All I did was just try my best to keep you awake because you didn’t let me drive.”

“I told you I was fine,” he shot back, sitting down properly now that he’d found his charger. “And it’s dark now. You shouldn’t drive in difficult conditions.”

“And why not?” you crossed your arms, offended. “Because I crashed into a pole once? It wasn’t that big of a deal—”

“Yes, it was,” Jaebum disagreed, angrily plugging the charger into the car’s cigarette lighter. “You could have gotten hurt. I’m not letting that happen again.”

You rolled your eyes, your current state of mind not allowing you to appreciate the sentiment. “I can drive just fine.”

“I’m sure you can. When it’s light and clear outside,” he snapped, his hands returning to the wheel even if he didn’t start the car again. Driving around aimlessly at night didn’t seem like a good idea, he wanted to avoid getting even more lost. “After I saw you that shaken up, there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let you drive anywhere if I can do it for you.”

“That’s infuriatingly bossy of you.”

“Yeah, well, sue me,” Jaebum said. “You’re not getting into any more car accidents. Not if I can help it.”

You took a moment too long to come up with a counter-argument and the brief pause was enough for you both to realize that you’ve drifted off-topic and that wasn’t helpful to your situation in any way. Picking your own phone up, you turned on the navigation to hopefully get you two out of here quicker, even if the connection in the wooded area was much less than ideal.

“It should be me being paranoid about driving cars,” you mumbled, still going on about the same thing. “Not you.”

“Clearly, your sense of safety is warped. But thank God you have me,” Jaebum replied, his voice full of sarcasm but his words completely honest. He leaned over the center console to look at your phone. “Does it say where we are?”

“Yeah. Right here,” you passed him your phone so he could take a better look. “I don’t think we’ve driven too far from the right road.”

Jaebum retreated back into his seat, zooming in on the screen to hopefully recognize the surrounding area. After another minute or two, he sighed and placed your phone on his lap, right next to his own charging one.

“Yeah, I think it’s just a few kilometers,” he said, starting the car again. “I was supposed to take an exit and then turn right a little while later, but, of course, I was too busy talking to you to do that.”

You groaned again. “I can stay quiet for the rest of the drive if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“No, what’s done is done. You might as well keep talking now,” he replied, making a very nonchalant illegal U-turn to return to the spot on the map where he’d seen the exit he’d missed before.

“You’re not supposed to do that,” you reminded him, once the car was heading back down the road.

“It’s late and there are no cars around,” Jaebum countered, although it was clear that he was uncomfortable breaking the rules as well, especially after having preached about how warped your sense of safety was. “No one saw.”

Pointlessly, you replied, “I saw.”

“Hmm,” he acknowledged your response with a grin. “File a complaint against me. Then you can come visit me in jail, it’ll be a nice change of scenery for us.”

“I’m sure we can come up with other ways to entertain ourselves,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “And, besides, they wouldn’t put you in jail for that. But just in case you decide to do anything else that’s illegal, how far away is the motel?”

“Uh,” Jaebum looked down at your phone on his thigh. “Another hour or so. If we don’t get lost again, that is.”

“Any gas stations on the way there?” you asked. “I’m parched and I need to use the bathroom.”

He sighed, never understanding why you called him bossy when he was essentially just following your orders and stopping whenever you asked him to stop.

“I’ll stop at the closest one,” he said, knowing that there was no use in refusing you; you’d still find a way to convince him.

“Thank you.”

Jaebum nodded and, approximately five minutes full of going way over the speed limit later, the two of you had finally reached the spot on the road where it had all gone wrong. This time, Jaebum took the correct exit and didn’t miss the right turn another kilometer later, either. Both of you simultaneously exhaled in relief as soon as you were back on track, heading towards the motel.

A gas station, however, only showed up on the side of the road after you’d complained about there not being any, at least, five times. And then, once Jaebum finally pulled onto the side of the road, he didn’t settle on waiting in the car but headed into the convenience store after you – both of you were obviously craving to feel the night air on your skin after having spent so much time inside of a car.

This store was just as empty as the one you’d visited before – even if it was four hours away from here – and, after noticing that the selection of snacks and drinks here was just as awful as it was in the stop before, you concluded that people just preferred not to shop at gas station convenience stores.

After a quick visit to the vacant bathroom – the entire place here was almost deserted – you suggested you and Jaebum finished your coffee drinks – that tasted more like water, to be truthful – on the bench out back. It would be nice to spend some time in fresh air before returning to the car, and, after pointing out that this was probably a spot where teenagers came to make out, Jaebum reluctantly agreed. He may not have admitted it but he needed the fresh air as much as you did.

“I’d forgotten how bad gas station coffee was,” he told you almost as soon as you two sat down. “I mean, the guy who sold this to us looked genuinely apologetic when I was paying.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason it’s so cheap,” you agreed, taking a sip nevertheless. “Is it weird that I still kind of like it? Even though it’s bad.”

“Not really,” Jaebum said and then added with a teasing sneer, “you don’t really have great taste.”

“Okay, hold on. What?” you raised your eyebrows, feeling only slightly offended because his eye smile made it difficult for you to actually get mad at him. “I’m going to need examples of all the times I could have lead you to believe my taste was anything but impeccable.”

“Oh, I don’t have to think very hard about that,” he replied. “You like me and I’m the furthest thing from impeccable.”

Your heart rate picked up when he mentioned you liking him so easily – even though you’ve already confessed to having feelings for him back when you were playing 21 Questions in the car – but you kept your composure.

“That is not true,” you announced and then paused dramatically before hissing back a playful, “you may be the furthest thing from impeccable but to say that I like you is a reach.”

Jaebum was taken off-guard for just a moment – he was obviously expecting you to defend your taste and, therefore, compliment him – before he burst out laughing, the sound making your own smile widen.

“You know,” he started then, taking a sip of his coffee mid-sentence and frowning at the taste, “okay, no—I can’t drink this,” he grimaced again before putting the half-full cup on top of the trashbin behind him. “Anyway—I didn’t get to answer your question back in the car.”

“Oh,” you felt hot all of a sudden. “That’s right, you didn’t.”

Jaebum caught the apprehensive undertones in your voice. “Do you still want me to?”

“Yes,” you said even though now you found yourself anxious about what he was going to say. He’d already told you so much – it was hard to believe, really, how much the two of you still didn’t know about each other even despite having texted back-and-forth for countless days leading up to your first—catastrophic—meeting – and yet it seemed as though the most important things had still been unsaid.

Jaebum took a deep breath before speaking and—most likely unconsciously—scooted closer to you on the bench.

“I think I’ve had some sort of feelings for you—although I refused to acknowledge them back then—since the first time you encouraged me about my music,” he admitted, swallowing thickly. He made it seem like saying this was the easiest thing in the world, but you saw the way he kept nervously twitching his leg and toying with the distressed material of his jeans. “Do you remember that?”

You raised your head from his legs to his face and waited until he looked at you before gently reminding him, “I’ve done that a lot of times since I’ve met you. I’m not sure which moment in particular—”

“Yeah, but this was, I don’t know, one or two weeks after we’ve started to talk? You didn’t even know me that well yet.”

Your confusion only deepened because you couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. “When we were texting? We haven’t even met back then, though. You didn’t even know I was a—”

“None of that mattered,” Jaebum cut you off. “It’s just—you were the first person – excluding my friends – who encouraged me to really work on my music. And you didn’t even know me or had heard my music. Yet, you still trusted me enough to encourage me not once, but literally as many times as the topic came up. You – a stranger – believed in me while the people I was once the closest to didn’t.”

You swallowed, not responding to him because all words had escaped you – which wasn’t a bad thing, considering that you didn’t think there was anything for you to say in the first place.

If you had to pinpoint a precise moment when you’d realized you had started to fall for Jaebum, you were sure the moment would have been a lot more superficial. It would have been influenced by not only his words, but his actions, his looks, his decisions, and many more factors that required the two of you to exist in the same room at the same time. Meanwhile, Jaebum sat here, right next to you, telling you that he’d started to fall in love with you when your words was all that existed with him. He hadn’t seen you do anything, he didn’t know what you looked like, he barely knew where you’d come from or what you were even like – but he’d read your words and that was enough.

You would never be able to guess how much the things you said affected another person or even changed the course of their life, but right there, in the eerily peaceful resting spot behind the gas station, you realized that you have unknowingly been the first stranger who’d supported Jaebum instead of bringing him down for his unrealistic dreams.

“And all of that meant the world to me,” Jaebum concluded. “Of course, I thought all of our past conversations were going to turn into a big fat chunk of nothing as soon as we saw each other in real life, because, shit, how was it possible for two people to get to know each other seemingly so well, and yet somehow not know about one of the, arguably, most important things, right?”

“In retrospective,” you replied, “I’d say it was important that we knew we were both human. Sometimes that alone is enough to know when you meet someone online.”

He chuckled. “Right. That’s not what it seemed like the moment our eyes met, though. But then you proved to me that my heart – the traitor – wasn’t all that wrong about you. You proved that everything we’ve talked about before was real when you supported me and my music again after we, uh, argued—or whatever that aggressive conversation was—after I had—well, after I’d slept with Lily.”

Suddenly, you got lost between the timezones again.“Lily?”

“Yeah,” Jaebum said, confused by your confusion. “The neighbor?”

“Oh,” you blinked, looking away from him. The memories of the first few days in your apartment slowly returned to you. Lily was the girl who had bought some cupcakes over and then, consequently, slept with Jaebum only to run right into you the next morning. You hadn’t seen her since. “Yeah, I remember that.”

He couldn’t resist, “and you had the audacity to call me disgusting – at least, I remember their names.”

You glared at him. “Is that the part we should be focusing on?”

“Right,” his small smile disappeared from his face when he inhaled slowly. “Well, you did it again. You constantly proved that you had my back, even when I refused to see it and chose to give in to my paranoid side instead – which I blame purely on my deranged survival instinct, by the way – and my initially budding feelings for you just kind of, you know, continued to bloom with every passing day, or whatever,” a beat of silence followed and then, “I saw you cringe at that last part.”

“I didn’t cringe,” you laughed in spite of yourself – it was difficult to hide your smile when he was so adamant to dismiss his own impactful words. “I remember you saying you weren’t going to submit your song, though. That very first time we’ve talked about this in real life.”

“Well,” he snickered, “I say a lot of things, don’t I? But I think it was those blooming feelings,” he paused again, rolling his eyes at his choice of words but still saying them purely because he could tell by your smile that you liked hearing them, “that finally threw me over the edge. I wouldn’t have submitted that song without you, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” you lowered your gaze. Your stomach may have been bursting with butterflies at his acknowledgment of your appreciation for his music but your mind lingered on the day in discussion – just a few days after having slept with Lily, Jaebum had invited you over to Mark’s bar where you met Jiho and Jaebum made the decision to call his ex-girlfriend. “You did… um, reunite with Suji after that conversation we’ve had, though.”

He hated the word. “We didn’t reunite.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jaebum sighed because he did. And he also knew that the two of you had already approached this topic before – although back then, he didn’t have it in him to admit the plain and obvious truth to himself, let alone tell you about it.

“That’s on you,” he said then.

“What?” you raised your eyebrows. “How can that be on me? I surely didn’t contact her for you and you’d already told me before that you couldn’t understand your reasons for texting her that night.”

“It was because of you,” Jaebum said shortly.

You watched him for a moment before saying, “I don’t understand,” even though your heart seemed to know precisely what he was saying.

“No, I think you do,” he said, sighing softly again, “you just don’t want to believe it. Neither do I because, well, that night never makes sense to me, no matter how many times I remember it. You and I barely knew each other at that point. I thought there was simply no reason for me to be angry—or jealous—about you going out on a date with someone. And, I’d tried to convince myself that it was just jealousy about you starting a potential relationship while I just, you know, stumbled around, meeting whoever, sleeping wherever, but never really being sure what I was doing with myself.”

“You told me that this wasn’t it.”

“It wasn’t,” he confirmed. “It only took me literal weeks to admit it to myself but, clearly, I was jealous about you dating someone who wasn’t me.”

You inhaled sharply. “I see.”

“I never thought it was possible for me to feel this way about someone I barely knew,” Jaebum continued, making your chest burst with every word you’d been dying to hear ever since you realized you had started to fall for him. You weren’t sure if it was the secluded spot at the back of the gas station, or the comforting night sky above your heads, or perhaps the previous confessions in the car, that made him admit all of this to you with little to no difficulty, but you desperately needed to hear his version of the truth because maybe, it would finally put an end to your endless speculations about yourself, about him, and about you-and-him. “I still don’t really understand it. You… you were impossibly quick in completely wrapping me around your finger.”

He said it with humor in his voice but when he raised his eyes to yours, they were full of honesty. He wasn’t ashamed of admitting this to you – not as much as he thought he’d be – but he still wasn’t sure what the right way to confess this was.

“Jaebum,” you started slowly, “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but you’ve literally had me thinking about you non-stop from the moment I saw you for the first time, so I’m not sure who’s got who wrapped around their finger.”

This eased his mild discomfort and he found himself grinning. “Yes, but that was purely my intention.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like being the center of everyone’s world.”

“Ha. Keep talking,” you said dryly, a sarcastic smile on your face as you put your coffee cup down on the pavement next to the bench. The drink was getting cold now which only amplified the already unbearable bitter taste. “I can feel my feelings for you disappear bit by bit.”

Jaebum laughed.

“I’m kidding. It’s just you. I like to make you flustered,” he said. “But you, on the other hand? You were never purposefully trying to make me lose it over you and that’s exactly what happened. Sometimes I think that I started to like you so much and so early precisely because you weren’t actively trying to make me like you.”

Trying desperately to keep your internalized screeching actually internalized, you cleared your throat. “Are we approaching the moment where you tell me about all of the girls that have gone out of their way to make you like them? Because I will stand up and leave if that’s the case.”

“Oh, I wasn’t actually going to bring that up but now that you mention it—”

“That’s it,” you got to your feet but Jaebum—through laughter—grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you back down on the bench.

“Come on, I’m just trying to get a reaction out of you,” he said, his voice still humorous.

“That’s all you ever do,” you told him, now seated right next to him, his chest pressed against your shoulder as he kept his eyes on you.

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his smile and the smell of his cologne making it harder for you to come up with a witty response. “I like to know how much you like me.”

“Don’t you know already?” you asked, meeting his eyes and losing your train of thought for just a minute when you saw his features from up close; you knew you’d never get used to the sight of him. “I’m fairly certain all of my friends – and yours, too, probably – know how much I like you.”

“It’s easy to be perceptive when you’re watching everything play out from a distance,” Jaebum said. “But you never suspected I liked you the whole time, too.”

You scoffed. “That’s because you literally accused me of attempting to take over your life at one point.”

“I…” the atmosphere turned serious all of a sudden. You thought you heard him swallow. “I know. I was afraid.”

They said that kissing was the most intimate form of talking two people could have with each other and yet, sitting so close to Jaebum and literally talking about something so personal felt much more intimate than all of the times you’ve kissed. Maybe because now you were completely baring your souls to each other, no longer cowering behind the protective armors around your hearts. Now you were finally voicing all of the words that your hearts had already shared with one another whenever your chests would press against each other.

“Are you still?” you asked him.

“I am,” Jaebum admitted. You wondered if the rapid beating you heard in your ears came from your chest or from his. “But it had already happened, anyway.”

“I would never try to control you the way she had,” you said, articulating each word with careful precision.

“I know,” he nodded, his hair brushing against your cheek with each gust of wind. “And that’s why I’m not fighting this. I know you have the power to make me do anything you want—”

“I don’t think I do.”

You looked down as you said this and did not see him frantically shake his head.

“Oh, no, I mean it,” he insisted. “You do. I know you do. I don’t know how else to live my life – when I care about someone, I end up giving them the possibility to do with me as they please. And I… I have feelings for you – too much for my own good – so, naturally, I’m powerless. I’m yours completely. But I trust you to never use this power for selfish reasons. I trust you to never try to change me into someone you’d like better. I-I trust you.”

You didn’t know what to do with yourself as you looked into his eyes again – just when he was going to pull your face to look at him – and whispered, “thank you.”

Jaebum was so close to you, you could feel every beat of his heart and hear every single breath that passed his lips. You were dying to bottle this moment up and carry it with you forever. You were dying to remember the words exchanged on the lonely bench on the back of the gas station for the rest of your life. You didn’t think either of these wishes were impossible to achieve because you’d been dying for so long to earn Jaebum’s trust, and you had it now. And you knew you were going to die if you lost it.

“Take care of that broken and pathetic little thing I call my heart, okay?” he asked, the most vulnerable he’s ever been with you. “I don’t think it can endure any more breaking.”

“Jaebum,” you spoke breathlessly. “I—”

“I want to kiss you,” he said, his heart shutting his brain down and claiming his ability to speak.

You felt your skin shiver but the gentle breeze blowing past had nothing to do with it. “Please.”

He caressed your cheeks, your nose, and your lips with his eyes before leaning in closer and then pausing.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop,” he added in a voice as shaky as your heart, hammering wildly inside of your chest.

You realized unsurprisingly that you would have allowed him to reach inside of you and rip your heart out so he could see it beat for him only as you exhaled, “please.”

Hearing the longing in your voice mirror the feelings in his chest set off an explosion inside of him; he had met someone that, for the first time in his life, was just like him in every way. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You would have allowed him to do anything to you just like he’d have allowed you to do the same. And you fell for him just as hard as he’d fallen for you.

He kissed you then, his hands on your face, his lips melting into yours. And each time you kissed him back, just as eagerly, he felt the broken pieces of his heart put themselves back together as though no damage had ever been done.

In a moment of overwhelming bliss caused by the simple sensation of your lips touching his, Jaebum felt it – he physically felt the missing half of his soul right at the tip of his fingers when he gently touched your cheek. It was right there – the connection people wasted their entire lifetimes looking for. You and him were holding it in your hands.

This realization was electrifying and he suddenly inhaled sharply, pulling away from the kiss.

Surprised, you watched him breathe heavily for a few moments. Your chest had swollen with all the various emotions he’d passed onto you through his kiss and you couldn’t find the words to ask him what had happened but you didn’t have to because, a moment later, Jaebum leaned in again, pressing another kiss to your lips – just to feel the euphoric fire in his stomach burn harder – and then standing up.

“Please,” he said, extending his hand to you, his eyes dark. “Let’s go back to the car.”

   chapter directory

[ohthathurt]

Aaaaaaaaaaand I’m back with another pointless, fluffy drabble! Did you ask? No but I’ll shove it down your throats anyway :))

In which, Ziam create a joint Youtube account for the purpose of posting day-to-day vlogs, to offer fans an insight into their personal lives. It turns out very differently of course...

***

“No, listen you do it.” Zayn shoved the laptop towards Liam and onto his lap. They were sat in their comfiest pajamas in bed, blankets strewn across and tangled in their legs. Liam put his cup of coffee down on the side table and gave Zayn all his attention.

Lately, with all the media circus and hype around the two of them, frankly which was expected since they came out, the fans were getting antsier by the day, desperate for a view into the lives of ‘Ziam’.

Liam giggled into Zayn’s shoulder as his husband scrolled through his twitter feed, their mentions rife with the hashtag, even having made it a worldwide trend.

“This is mad,” he whispered into the soft material of Zayn’s hoodie, only getting a gentle peck on his head from the other man as a response.

He knew Zayn was, too, in awe of the positive response, both men having expected to have lost a chunk of their followers. But it didn’t happen, and now the worst was over, the coming out dealt with. Now they had their entire lives to look forward to, to be as they are and always will be: together.

Liam frowned at his husband’s blank expression and looked down at the screen of the laptop, a red and white themed page open on it. He sighed and regarded Zayn with a gentle gaze.

“Babe, it’s easy, don’t worry.” He chastened the other man, only pulling a tentative look from him but not much else. Zayn had always thought his lack of tech knowledge was a weakness but Liam was always there to ward off such thoughts.

He pulled on Zayn’s hoodie (Liam’s merch from his first album) and tucked him into his side, a strong arm preventing him from squirming too much. A few clicks and a few details added and their new joint Youtube account was ready to use. Liam smiled triumphantly at the screen then turned his face to look at Zayn who was –

–slumped across Liam’s chest, with drooping eyelashes and an open mouth, fast asleep.

He grinned down at the sight; maybe this is what he should start with, he thought devilishly, slowly pulling his cellphone towards him from the side table and switching on the camera app.

***

It was well after a few months when Zayn decided he’d had enough for a whole vlog-like video to be posted on their account. Of course, they loved their fans and wanted to share their lives with them too, but there was only so much vlogging they could squeeze in, with their busy schedules and hectic routines.

Zayn had taken to recording during breaks at the studio with Liam giggling intensely at Loki rolling around on the floor, snorting between munching on fries. He zoomed in on Liam’s red face, beard growing thick and scruffy and a snapback worn backwards perched on his head. He looked every bit the teenager he fell in love with, just a bit more beefy. Reprimanding himself mentally, he continued recording until Liam’s laughs had resorted into loud snorts, his body bowing with the force of his laughter and the camera shook because damn his giggles were infectious.

Unbeknownst to Zayn, Liam had also taken to capturing those soft, sweet and quiet moments between the two of them, where not a stitch of designer wear was on their backs, where no deal was left to be fulfilled and where no one could see them.

“They don’t know about us”, Liam whispered into Zayn’s ear, giggling slightly as he pulled a clingy Zayn onto his lap, the sounds around them drowned in lazy, sloppy kisses.

At the moment, Liam sneaked across their lounge and hid behind one of the sofas, his feet bare to hide the sound of his steps, he grinned to himself as he switched on his camera app.

Zayn was stood with his back to the lounge, humming under his breath and slightly swaying from side to side as he cut some vegetables on the counter.

“We need to start eating healthy, Liam.” His hand was given a sharp slap when Liam attended to sneak another fry from the dinner table. He pouted but his husband fixed a pointed expression, and Liam deflated with a heaving sigh.

Well if he was gonna be eating healthy for the rest of his life, at least he can get some revenge in for it. He edged closer from behind the sofa until he was almost right behind Zayn, only a few feet separating the two. He was still recording when he heard it, the smoky undertones sounding out familiar hums and lyrics.

He was singing songs off Liam’s album. Liam quickly turned the front-facing camera on, his hands shaky and heart beating with the force of the love he felt for his husband. He recorded himself listening to Zayn singing and humming in the kitchen while he mouthed the words, “I love him!” to the camera.

***

They sat across each other on different sofas, facing each other with laptops propped up and a video file open on each screen. Liam had Zayn’s laptop with a video ready to play and Zayn had Liam’s. The two had decided after gathering enough footage and little snippets to make their own edits of the video clips. That is of course, Zayn had made two, his first one being too ‘artsy’ for Liam. Sue him, he liked filters.

But right now, the two needed to watch each other’s edits to finally decide on which one should be posted. They both pressed play after a quick nod and with headphones on, watched the videos.

By the end of it, Zayn was in tears but so was Liam.

***

When fans had logged onto their social medias, they had been absolutely gobsmacked to find a video, an edit rather full of unseen footage of Liam and Zayn. But most importantly, an edit of Ziam made by the very own Ziam.

Ecstatic and helplessly breathless, with one click they all watched the video one by one. And as expected were in tears after it.

Tears of hysterical laughter, of course.

You see, while they had anticipated a romantic view into the lives of a married couple, what they had gotten was snippets of hysterical giggling, antics of Not-a-Morning-Person Zayn, Loki attempting to fit himself into a vase and also Zayn laying in a strip of sunlight, shared grumpily with the rest of their pets.

“It’s art, Liam.” He proclaimed, voice mock-serious.

“What, laying in the sunlight?”

“Ye-ow! Loki no- Liam! Your son is being annoying.”

“Oh, so he’s my son when he’s annoying but it’s ‘That’s my boy!’ when he sits on my face when I’m sleeping!”

There were also cute moments of the two sharing a slice of cake but that clip ended when a drunk Zayn smeared chocolate icing on Liam’s forehead while shouting ‘Simba!’

Also on the video, was when Liam had accidentally set fire to roses on a dinner date –

“It’s symbolic, Liam.”

“Shut up, Zayn.”

- and when Zayn had ended up walking out in the middle of a meeting with Liam’s music video producers and Liam’s social media intern had swung the camera around to capture Zayn in all his morning glory.

Of course, Liam’s mouth had gone dry at the sight of a shirtless but grumpy Zayn prowling around in his boxer shorts, hair adorably standing up and a scowl ever-present on his face. Yup, after all these years, that turned him on the most.

The others had tittered nervously at the sight of him and Liam had laughed it off, following his husband to the kitchen and getting some cuddle time in; which consisted of Liam clinging onto Zayn with arms wrapped around his waist and his head on his shoulder, as Zayn grumpily shoved spoonfuls of Weetabix in his mouth.

All this and much, much more was what greeted fans on the eve of a very important date, 25th March.

Those little shits.

Hope you enjoyed! x

[pjstafford]

Ending 2020

As we end this strange year, there are many thoughts running through my brain.

Let’s keep this last year a little personal and condense to two main themes.

1. Uncertainty of the future

2. Evolving relationship with the personal and social constructs of life

1. I am joyful to be waving goodbye to the most historically significant year of my lifetime. (I was born in 1961). While the global pandemic had us in our grips I will forever think it was made worse by the Trump Presidency and what might have been a historically significant year became a nightmare in the United States due to having a unqualified and clear cut narcissistic personality as our leader. At least for me, it impacted me adversely and I am fortunate that the leadership in New Mexico has been so exemplary. I am hopeful about the inauguration of the new President, but still nervous about what may occur in twenty days. I am hopeful about the vaccine but know the worst days will be in the next few days, there are new variants emerging and unsure if, due to my history with vaccinations, neuromuscular paralyzers and pain and cold medication, if I should take the vaccination. I am not anti vaccination at all. I just have a personal history which makes me nervous.

So last year, recovering from frozen shoulder, tired and fatigued from too much work stressed in personal life, I eagerly looked forward to 2020. Now, WTF? The only thing comforting, under the guise of misery loves company, is this has been a hard year for majority. So I am not sure, given the known and unknowns, if I can look towards 2021 with the tarot card countenance of the fool- knapsack in hand, dog by my heal, eagerly anticipating whatever adventures await me. I can however, bid farewell to this year with a hearty sentiment of farewell and don’t let the door kick you in the way out.

I, also, think this is the healthiest way to approach this and every New Year and it took me almost sixty year to recognize it. We don’t know what the future brings. So we look towards the positive and don’t ignore the negative and know that change is the one constant in life.

2. I miss human touch, a random night out with friends, travel and concerts. Yet, this year has seen the world and long distance friendships become open to me in a way heretofore unknown. I have virtual events to look forward to in the first three months of next year. I have always been an introvert. Even as a young child I spent hours alone in my room playing solitaire. I say here and now I have still not had enough me time to last a lifetime. So while I want to give the world a hug right now and be hugged in return, I don’t want want my zoom calls with friends in other states or my access to events in New York to end.

One of the unexpected things about even living through a pandemic is my relationship to time which I wrote about in previous blogs. How can 2020 be over when we all paused in Spring? Isolation, indoor activities, a lack of social structure and routine means time has both slowed down and sped up. It takes me longer to do basic things. Other trappings of a Holiday season I gladly let go. I stare into space while drinking my coffee more. A walk in the sun can feel like water to a thirsty man. It’s odd and, yet, worthwhile to have spent this time in this way. Not a moment of it...even the moments wondering if I should bother to get out of my pajamas feel wasted. Yet, I realize that Christmas Day is the first Day this year I felt truly relaxed...with no strain in my muscles or additional stress. It took three days honestly of concentrated no news, meditation, exercise, indulgent long showers and good food and some drink to get there. I slept like a log and immediately had nightmares Sunday night when work loomed the next morning. I got up early to catch up on the news from four days.

I think the combination of time orientation, stress and existential anst changed, at least temporarily, my embrace of the things I have been passionate about.

I have written blogs and a handful of poems. I outlined a novel about Corona Virus 25 I called to mask or not to mask and let it lie dormant. I didn’t do any work on my Hic Sundt Mondragon novel. If I only I have more time to write, shake my fist in the air, for decades and, yet, where does this thing I live but have never succeeded at fit in this year? Reading seemed difficult to me as well; so I read things I’ve read in the lost past looking for the spark they had for me in my teenage years. I found that spark again now, but largely, I think due to attending some writer’s events. Television and movies? Yeah, finally watched Breaking Bad. Found Travelers and couldn’t stop watching. Not as eager to binge as I have been. ( except X-Files, of course).

Music is the oddest. I cannot get, for the life of me, the song from Jesus Christ Superstar out of my head having seen a version on Easter. “Listen, Jesus, don’t you care for your race. Don’t you see we must keep in our place. We are occupied. Have you forgotten how put down we are?’ I realized it is not the anthem of the Black Lives movement , but somehow it has gotten entwined in my brain. Wait for what and how much longer? If not now, when? This is the first year in forever I have stayed up till midnight anticipating a new song would drop. God bless Dylan for Rough and Rowdy Ways and all his music. There are times I have done nothing for a couple of hours but sat in the dark listening to him again. But I miss live music and this summer, especially I couldn’t listen to anything for the reminder of all we were missing.

One thing that have sustained me is leading a fan based Twitter account where we have managed to stay distracted and focused on entertainment of my favorite writer and actor. At midnight tonight I pass it on to another fan. I have become too attached and too dependent on this as my “worthwhile fun” and I know I need to return to writing and reading and listening to music again to feel like I’m transitioning back to normal in whatever that becomes this next year.

So now it is New Year’s Eve Day. 2 pm where I am. I spent the morning being lazy. Just got off the phone with a work colleague. Now i am drinking my last cup of coffee for the year with a healthy dose of Baily’s. Tonight I will have a good dinner and a few adult beverages. I have a virtual ticket for the Bob Weir and Wolfe Brothers show tonight. In 2021, it’s about opening my heart, mind, soul and time. It’s actually always is. I am going to be scared, joyful, nervous, angry and elated at some point in 2021. Oh, I will have all the feels. I will hear and be moved by music. I will read words that will stay with me and haunt me at odd, random hours. Perhaps, I will write some words that might do the same for someone else. As we moved back to whatever the new normal will be, I will, at the age of sixty, have the opportunity to appreciate things as new. Going to a movie, having dinner out with a friend, a long, lingering hug. Here’s to 2021.

[girlyandunruly]

Quarantine Days

Kevin and I have been making the best out of staying indoors. Two things we are very grateful for:

We are healthy (though Kevin gets paranoid from time to time “my stomach hurts, do I have the rona?”)

We still have our jobs. Luckily our jobs can continue to be done remotely. That being said, everyone’s hours at my company, Barr Engineering, have reduced to 32 hours a week, reducing my pay. And Kevin has been having a bit of an issue lately trying to sell services with the current situation. Nonetheless, things could be worse. We could be one of the 22 million people filling for unemployment.

We spend our weekdays very busy working until 5pm. Kevin upstairs in his “Business Center” he calls it, which is basically a camping table set up in our bedroom, with a chair from our dining room and a monitor from his office. I’m downstairs in the office area, I already had a monitor and standing desk since half the time I already worked from home. So I was set.

When 5pm comes around, we do home workouts. Either online yoga with friends through zoom, boxing class, HIT (High Intensity Training), ab workout class, dance class with my mom… we are trying to stay active.

When we’ve had nice days, we go outside to the park to play frisbee, bike or go for a run.

Last time I saw any friend/coworker (people I normally interact with) was March 10th. It’s strange to realize it’s been over a month now. Time has passed by really fast for me. Luckily, I have many hobbies and things I’ve been wanting to do but never had enough time. Well, I’ve been doing all of them now!

1. I created two new hats for upcoming Kentucky Derby parties (yes, for the years 2021, 2022). That’s how far in advance I plan and here’s one of them, garden gnome themed:

2. I’ve gotten back into my Rosetta Stone studying French. My daily goal is to do 30 mins. I’ve been pretty consistent!

3- I sewed a bunch of clothes I’ve been wanting to hem/fix.

4- I’m finishing D-Day Girls book.

5- Reorganized EVERYTHING

The tool box (as in go through every crew and tool and categorize them).

My tea collection, separated them by type in different cans (green, black, chamomile, fruity, etc).

Went through my clothes to decide anything I don’t wear anymore.

6- I’ve been doing some Instagram challenges like putting a t-shirt on while doing a handstand:

7- Online shopping hasn’t ended for me, eek! I mean, I had to get some comfy cute quarantine clothes like this one:

And also cute “Rachel Green” dress when things go back to normal, gotta be prepared ;)

Kevin has found new pastimes:

1. He dusted off his x-box and has been playing Grand Theft Auto – never seen him play before but he now plays a bit every day.

2. He made a delicious moist banana bread for the first time.

3. He’s gotten into every kind of home improvement project he could think of:

           A. Pantry Upgrade:

                 A.1. He removed everything from the pantry.

                 A.2. Painted the pantry walls.

                 A.3. Bought new shelves and installed them.

           B. Painted the windows.

           C. Changed all the old electric plugs.

           D. Currently upgrading our lights from the ceiling ** IN PROGRESS**

           E. Done some intense cleaning!

                 E.1. Moved the refrigerator/WD/oven to clean under (SO DISGUSTING!)

                 E.2. He cleaned the oven with a power tool:

4- He cut his own hair!! I, on the other hand, made a hair salon appointment for May 12. Fingers crossed I can still make the appointment because this hair needs some work!

We order groceries to be delivered. And we obsessively clean the packages when they arrive. We also splurge once a week and order food from our neighborhood sushi, thai, pho, Greek or Venezuelan place (those are our go-to joints!). Gotta support our local restaurants!

I’ve been getting creative with my vegetarian meals:

Besides working out together, other activities we do together:

1. We play board games

Santorini has been a new favorite.

I even bought a new board game: Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Life.

Giant Jenga - Apparently Kevin has never lost in his life. Winning steak continues.

2. Watch a movie every other day. A few favorites so far:

JoJo Rabbit

Parasite

Molly’s Game

Knives Out

3. We have our rooftop to enjoy lunch and drinks with city and mountain views. We’ve recently discovered we can see Red Rocks Amphitheater from our rooftop. Might be the lack of industrial activities clearing up the air pollution.

4. Take many bubble baths.

5. Participate in #FormalFriday where we dress up, cook a fancier dinner and have cocktails.

6. Every night at 8pm we howl at the moon and hear the neighborhood play drums, trumpet, put out christmas lights. We pulled out our vuvuzela which I got in South Africa World Cup 2010.

Even though we are away from our friends and family, we’ve been staying connected quite often:

1. Do a weekly Happy Hour call with friends (pretty consistent with Kate and Rayelle) through GoogleChat and HouseParty app.

2. Do a weekly yoga class with Kevin’s friends.

3. We celebrated both our dad’s birthdays through Zoom and GoToMeeting. Their birthdays are 7 days apart (April 2, April 9).

4. I sent flowers to abuelita cause poor thing, she hasn’t seen anyone and needs more attention.

5. Emailed grandparents photos so they are up to date with what we are doing.

6. Mailed my brother a couple of books – one for Demi and one for him.

7. Mailed Kate her favorite popcorn (Kettle Head Popcorn Jalapeno Cheddar flavor).

8. Mailed Carla a 4-pack energy drink we used to drink in South Africa back in 2010. I randomly saw it on amazon and made me remember such a great time we had together. And thought it would brighten her day to remember our South Africa trip.

I’m not the only one that have been sending surprise packages. My family has been very sweet to me:

Parents have sent surprise Venezuelan treats in the mail

Grandpa sent me a book: American Dirt

When I do have to leave the house to run errands like drop off packages at UPS or USPS, I wear a “mask” (made out of a bandana) and wear gloves. Everyone around is wearing masks as well and staying far apart. Feels very doomsday.

Overall, things have been going well for us. That being said, we are extremely privileged to be able to do all these things. Unfortunately there are others that cannot work from home, have filed for unemployment, have lost their health insurance due to it or have kids in the house which makes it harder to work and homeschool their kids. Domestic violence has skyrocketed. There are families that cannot afford internet and their children cannot do their school work online. Single mothers who work multiple jobs cannot be at home to help their child with homework when school is expecting for parents to take over. There are older people that are struggling with the new technology changes and it’s giving them increased anxiety and stress to learn how to use online conferencing (I know it seems normal to most of us, others are really having a hard time). There are people with health issues that have increased anxiety of contracting COVID-19. Healthcare workers, grocery store workers, delivery services, waste management services, cleaning services... they are all putting their health at risk everyday to help us continue to live “normal” lives. 

They are the true MVP.

Best thing we can do is to stay home, stay positive and find creative ways to have fun. Here is Kevin faceswap with a barbie:

[marvel-ously-blog]

And We’re Live

Tom Holland! Peter Parker x Reader 

Author: Cosmo  |   Edited by: Grae

Word Count: 1622   |    Warnings: brief mention of mugging, kinda long (sorry!)

Summary: Every blogger wants to get recognized, but no one knows what secrets you’ll dig up in the process.

A/N: Reader is kind of based on Alya from Miraculous Lady Bug. This kind of has potential to be a multi-part story so uhh comment if you want a part 2!!!

“3,2,1...and we’re live in New York City!” A cheerful, yet out of breath voice called out of view of a shifty cell phone camera pointed at the sky. “I’ve got something amazing to show you all-” Inhaling deeply the camera focused on the sky finally. A red and blue blob appearing in the sky, “our one and only Spider-man” very shakily the camera zoomed in on the blob and focused seconds after. Showing the spider themed hero zipping across the city. “This is amazing..oh, oh my god!” As the hero started to disappear, the image of the recording started to bounce rapidly and footsteps were heard on the payment chasing after the hero. A few seconds later- the image cut off.

Hitting the spacebar to prevent the video from playing again you turned to look back at a very confused Peter Parker. Wiggling a bit in your desk chair you waited for a response from your boyfriend of just a few weeks. He had originally came over to pick you up for a date but somehow you ended up gushing to him about the new video of Spider-man you recorded.

“I didn’t have my camera so the footage isn’t that great, but that’s the closest I’ve seen him and- Well..?” You ended up rambling after a few minutes of silence.

“That’s what you do in your free time?” He nervously laughed a bit as you huffed and rolled your eyes. “Well until I get noticed by someone yeah pretty much, everyone want’s to know more about spider-man but no one has the chance to get too close. I mean if this blog goes anywhere I could use it to get a job or something.” Peter had nothing to really say to you. He knew how persistent you were with your passions and while that could be dangerous for him, he couldn’t exactly tell you to stop. And he definitely couldn’t tell you he was Spider-man.

“And with you being at the Stark internship all the time, what else am I supposed to do?” you said teasingly. It was hard to get Peter out on a date so time’s like tonight were rare.

And here you were making him feel guilty, he even sounded a little hurt saying “let’s get going”.

Chuckling softly you reached back to shut your computer. “Sorry, sorry- let’s go!” Patting your legs you walked towards Peter and turned him to face the bedroom door. Placing your chin on his shoulder you started pushing him forward.

----

The walk to the pizzeria wasn’t too bad- you lived close to it and well- time just went by when you were with Peter. The two of you talked about random things or sometimes nothing but just being around each other was good enough.

When you reached the pizzeria you stretched out for the door and Peter gave you a look. “Oh get over it, a woman can hold the door open for a man it’s 2017,you  huffed” you said accusingly. Peter walked through the door with his head bent slightly down.

“It’s not about that Y/N”

You walked through the door and jumped to hug Peter from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder. His hands reached up to where yours linked around his chest and you kissed his cheek.  “Eh, just be faster next time then.”

He smiled and you moved to his side and grabbed his hand. He ordered for the two of you, one pizza and one drink between you.

“You know, I may gush over Spider-man...” Leaning over you nudged him gently before reaching the booth.

“Yeah, well- he’s cool so-”

Cutting him off you let a wide smile form as you sat down “You’re way cuter!”

“He wears a mask though?” Peter said in confusion.

“I can just sense it.”

In an attempt to not seem as flustered, Peter took a sip from his drink but you still saw the side of his mouth tug up in a smile from behind the cup.

----

Both you and Peter had lost track of time during the date and when you finally bothered to see that the store was closing soon, it was already dark outside. It was you who suggested that Peter go straight home instead of walking you- even though he insisted it was fine but knowing Aunt May would be worried about him and since you lived closer to the pizzeria anyway you assured that everything would be fine and weren’t worried about walking by yourself….

And that’s how you got into this situation.

Walking quickly you made sure not to look back- if I ignore them maybe they’ll go away- you thought to yourself. Shutting your eyes tightly for a brief second when you heard the footsteps come closer.  Shoving cold hands into your jacket pocket, thin fingers felt around for your phone. Pulling it out you unlocked it and dialed Peter. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to magically appear next to you but at least if you were talking to him you’d feel safer.

But to your dismay..he didn’t answer. “Jesus Christ, Peter-” you groaned, trying again to call him. When he didn’t answer you huffed and got the nerve to look behind you and see who was following you- and how far away they were but no one was there. A few guys sitting at the bus stop nearby but no one trailing in the shadows behind you. Circling a bit to make sure no one was hiding anywhere, you shoved your hands back into your pocket and sighed before walking backward a bit before turning to finish your way home. You had barely walked a couple feet when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Keeping your head forward you attempted to shrug the hand off your shoulder and run but failed. The grip was too tight- and before you could even take a step you were being shoved back.

Knowing there was no way to fight off these goons on your own you let out a blood curtailing scream- someone would hear, right?

Although the only thing screaming had gotten you so far was being pushed into a wall. The only good thing about that was it made some distance between you and your attackers- but there was no way you’d be able to run and push past them. Not with them surrounding you.

Looking at them with a glare you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“Empty your pockets!”

“I don’t have any money-”

Your words must’ve gone on deaf ears because they didn’t seem to care at all. Instead, they just stepped closer and repeated their words from earlier. All you had on you was your phone, it’s charger and some change left over from when you helped pay for the pizza.

“Please I swear I don’t and I won’t file a police report if you let me go now”

“Queen’s police won’t do anything about a stupid teenagers mugging.” One of the bigger guys had said, and there was a gut wrenching feeling when you knew that they were right. It was queens, they had gang bangers and bank robbers to worry about. No one would look twice at you.

“No, but I will” He moved too fast for you to see him at first but the second you saw Spider-man you rushed away from the scene only realizing a second later that you and your blog would never again have an opportunity to get this close to him. Dodging behind a dumpster you brought your phone’s camera up and started recording what was left of the fight.

By this time Spider-man had taken out two of the guys for sure. You hadn’t tallied the monsters during their assault on you but now there was a clearly countable four. While the two that were down for the count were small and unimpressionable, the two still standing were bigger and clearly dangerous.

So you moved closer.

It was hard to define one as bigger than the other but one was definitely taller. The tallest one had pulled a knife that wasn’t really impressive and it took Spider-man a while to finally catch his arm at an angle that the knife couldn’t be used to slice it open. However, in the process of catching the taller, the shorter (with a knife of his own) had made a jab right for Spider-man's neck. While the move was narrowly avoided, the blade had made a cut to his jawline. The tight mask exposing his eye and part of his nose.

Inhaling sharply at how close the goons had gotten to him you looked past the camera and at the superhero. Eye’s widening when you saw him looking directly at you.

This must have given Spider-man motivation to finish the fight faster because before you could blink, the last one was down and he was gone.

--

You practically jumped out of your seat when you finally rewatched the footage in the comfort of your own room. You had ran as soon as you finished calling the police and now sat excitedly looking at your computer. The quality was still low but you saw Spider-man’s face, this couldn’t not be uploaded.

Just before you could sync it to your blog you heard a knock on the door.  Jumping in your seat a bit you huffed before getting up to go and answer the door. Outside was Peter and- he looked upset? Blinking a couple times you couldn’t believe he was here-

Opening your mouth to speak he stepped forward and placed his hands on your shoulders, intensely staring into your eyes. “You can’t upload that video!”

[incorrectmidc]

Love Actually

Note: Inspired by the movie Love Actually. This is a story of unrequited love btw. Read at your own risk.

P.S. Listen to Glasgow Love Theme by Craig Armstrong while reading this.

Pairing: Leo x MC, (one-sided) Giles x MC

"Are you in love with him?" "What?" With a one swift motion, Giles Christophe closed the video camera he was holding and turned to the only person who dared talk to him at the wedding reception of his best friend, Leo Crawford. He raised an eyebrow, the only indication that he was surprised at the sudden query. "What are you talking about, Cosette?"

Cosette Brunois shrugged, her sharp eyes intently focused at the couple dancing at the center of the ballroom before they turned to the man beside her. "I just want to know if I asked the proper question," she replied. "If you want someone to talk to about it with..." Giles immediately shook his head at that, effectively cutting the woman off. "What you're insinuating is preposterous, Miss Brunois," he said in the most formal and coldest tone he could muster in the hopes of scaring her away. He didn't need to talk to somebody about anything, especially his feelings. Cosette silently regarded him for a moment before speaking once more. "So you're saying it's a no?" she asked for clarifications. "Yes, it’s a no," Giles replied patiently, biting back a sigh. Why is this woman so nosy today? As far as he could remember, they weren’t exactly friends. They’re just acquaintances as far as he’s concerned seeing that she’s the girlfriend of Leo’s twin brother, Alyn. "What gave you that idea anyway?” "You look like you're sulking, Giles," Cosette replied, earning her another raised eyebrow from said male. "People are thinking that you might be in love with Leo and is broken hearted when he got married. You two are very close you know." "Ridiculous," Giles muttered as he stood up from his seat, wanting the conversation to end. "Now if you excuse me, I have to go check on that DJ before he plays another music that might make all of our ears bleed." Then without waiting for the Cosette’s reply, he walked off into the other side of the ballroom.

Ring! Ring! Muttering under his breath while rubbing his right eye, Giles reached over the bedside table and with his free hand, grabbed his phone that was making an awful noise so early in the morning. "Giles Christophe," he half-stated, half-slurred as he tried his best to fight off the sleep that was threatening to overtake his mind once more.

"Good morning, Giles!" a familiar feminine voice spoke on the opposite line that made him blink rapidly. Pulling the gadget away from his ears, Giles realised that the person on the opposite line was none other than his best friend's wife, (Y/N). "I apologise if I woke you up," she sheepishly added when he just remained silent. "I just have a favour to ask you." "It's alright, (Y/N)," Giles replied as he sat up on the bed, knowing that sleep would be impossible right now. "What is it that you need?" he asked as he ran a hand on his tousled purple locks. Catching a swift glimpse at the digital clock on his bedside table, he calculated that he still have two hours before he's required at work. "Anou, the videographer totally messed up the wedding video it was beyond repair," (Y/N) began. "It was troublesome for we didn't have any other video aside from that but I seem to remember you taking several videos during the wedding ceremony and the reception. If you don’t mind, I would like to have a copy of it." Giles was again silent, but for a full minute this time, causing the woman on the other line to think that he may either have fallen back asleep or hung up. "Giles?" "I apologise, (Y/N)," Giles said, his tone firm, leaving no room for arguments or protests. "But I seemed to have misplaced the video file. I immediately burned it into a tape but now I'm unable to locate it." "Is that so?" (Y/N)'s voice was laced with disappointment for a while before it brightened again. "Giles losing things is quite unusual," she observed. "How about I help you find it?" "I don't really have time for this, (Y/N)," he frankly stated as he approached the life-size glass window and drew the curtains back causing sunlight to stream in his room. He scowled as he pulled the curtains back, letting darkness envelop the room once more. "Please, Giles? I just want to see myself in a wedding dress where I don't look like a bloated pumpkin." Giles let out a quiet sigh before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I apologise, (Y/N), but I really have to go now." (Y/N) was silent on the opposite line for a while. "I understand, Giles. I'm sorry if I bothered you." And with that, she hung up before he could say anything else.

"Strawberry milkshake?" Giles blinked owlishly as he stared at the beautiful woman standing in front of his apartment that afternoon and offering him a cup of her favourite sweetened drink. He blinked again before taking off the reading glasses perched atop his nose. "Don't mind if I do," he said as he leaned forward and was about to take a sip of the beverage offered to him when it was suddenly pulled away from his reach. "Giles, you've broken my heart," (Y/N) whined with a deadpan expression. "You know how much I love my strawberry milkshakes." "My apologies then, (Y/N)," he replied. "What can I do for you?" "Aren't you going to let me in?" (Y/N) asked back instead of answering. "Ah, of course. Where are my manners?" Giles moved to open the door wider so (Y/N) could get inside. "So what brought you here?" he asked again when she was inside, looking at the pristine surroundings. (Y/N) turned to him before answering. "I was at the neighbourhood when I decided to drop by and maybe help you in finding that missing video file," she said with a persuasive smile. "You know what they say, two pairs of eyes are better than one." Giles barely managed to suppress a sigh at her words. "(Y/N), I was serious about not being able to find the file," he said, his tone reverting into that practiced one that intimidates people. She stared at him for a moment, not saying anything, which caused Giles to squirm a bit inwardly. He prided himself in being able to swiftly read the thoughts and feelings of others but he was constantly frustrated when it came to (Y/N). The woman was probably the only living person in the fictional world that he couldn't read. And she was one hell of an unpredictable person as well. "Can I say something?" she asked. "Of course," he replied, obviously curious as to what she would want to say. (Y/N) heaved a deep breath before speaking again. "Giles, you’re Leo's best friend and I know that you never really got along with me." She raised a hand when Giles opened his mouth in an attempt to say something. "Please listen to me first. We were really never friendly with each other but I want you to know that I'm nice. Well, if you disregard my blatant obsession to strawberry milkshakes and anything that has strawberries in it. I hope that you'd find it in you to be friends with me." She was giving him a hopeful look, as much as her expression could manage, which made Giles sigh loudly this time. "Fine. I'll be friendly," he conceded, not liking the fact that it was her who managed to make him submit. "But it doesn't mean that we'd still be able to find that missing tape if we became friendly," he added when she began browsing the series of tapes stacked onto a shelf in the living room of his apartment. (Y/N) let her index finger ran through dozens of tapes secured on the shelf before it stopped at a certain one. "Then this tape with the label Leo & (Y/N)'s Wedding might be a great start, isn't it?" She smiled at him as she went to the player so she could watch it. Flashing Giles a smile, she sat on the single couch located in front of the huge flat screen television. "It's worth a try," he said as he stood rigidly behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. He was silently cursing himself for not hiding the tape in his safety deposit box immediately after he burned it. "Definitely," (Y/N) replied as the tape began. A delighted smile then showed up on her face as she watched herself, along with her father, walk down the aisle in a white wedding gown. "This is perfect." She turned to smile at him. "You did an amazing job, Giles." When Giles didn’t respond, she turned back to the video and went on watching. The video then showed her standing beside Leo in front of the altar. A giggle escaped her when the camera zoomed in on her face. "You were always close, Giles, ne?" She looked at him once more, a wonderful smile on her face that had Giles’ eyes subconsciously softening. "I look quite pretty there." "Yes. Yes, you are," Giles murmured, his eyes lingering on her form for a moment before they settled back onto the flashing screen of the television. (Y/N) smiled at the video. Obviously, Giles did a greater job than the official videographer. She was watching a particular scene where she was subtly rubbing her nose while listening to the priest's sermon and was about to make a joke of it when it finally dawned upon her. The smile on her face slowly disappearing, her delighted expression replaced by something akin to surprise and awe, she went on watching herself dancing at the reception with Leo, laughing and talking and eating and drinking. It was all her. Her gaze turned back to Giles who was staring intently at the video, his expression unreadable. Looking down at her feet and biting her lower lip, she murmured, "They're all of me." "Yes," Giles replied, his voice the quietest of all whispers, the trace of any cold demeanor gone from him. When she looked back up at him, she saw that his eyes were quite red, as if he's going to burst into tears any second. "Yes, they are." An awkward, almost suffocating silence permeated the living room when the video ended. (Y/N) tried to think of something articulate to say but words seemed to fail her at the moment. "B-But... But you never talked to me," she stuttered as she looked up at Giles again. "You always talk to Leo. You don't even like me, Giles." She knew that she was in denial of what she have just discovered. It's completely impossible that the high and mighty Giles Christophe is in love with her. Right? Giles was about to speak when the ringing of his phone startled them both. Grateful for the distraction, he immediately answered it. "Giles Christophe," he greeted, his tone now business-like. "Yes, Sid." He listened to the other line for a moment before he nodded. "Yes, I'm fine with it. Tell them I'll meet them there in ten minutes. Okay, bye." Hanging up, he turned back to (Y/N). "I have to go meet a client. I hope the video was useful." He glanced away for a moment when he said those words. "You can show yourself out." Then without waiting for any reply, he turned for the door. (Y/N), who was still in shock at the revelation, just stared at Giles’ retreating figure. She then blinked when he halted in his tracks and turned to look at her, his expression that of a defeated man. "Distancing myself from you," he whispered, his voice barely audible and his smile bittersweet. "It's a self-preservation thing, you see."

[helpingheroes]

Hey, cuties! I’m back again with another iconning tutorial! This time we’ll be using PicMonkey which is a free online website. There are features on the site that you have to pay for, but we won’t be using any of those. As far as iconning goes, you can do just about everything you can do in gimp. In this tutorial, I’m going to teach you how to make a basic icon, add effects, and make your icons into shapes all using PicMonkey’s free features. Let’s get started!

First, you’re going to need the image(s) you’ll be iconning. As before I recommend using screencapped.net or making your own using this tutorial. I recommend saving all your screencaps or images for a particular batch of icons into one folder so you’ll be able to easily navigate to it. (Or you can do like me and just save them to your desktop then delete them or move them to a folder when you’re finished.)

Now head over to PicMonkey. You’ll have to make an account to use the site but, if you prefer, you can use 10minutemail which lets you use a temporary email so you won’t get emails from PicMonkey on your personal email. Once you’re logged in, your screen should look similar to this with whatever username you entered in the top right corner:

Opening Images

First thing��s first, we have to open up the image we’re going to be working on. On the top row, you’re going to hover over Edit and then click Computer.From there you’ll find wherever you saved your image(s) and click on the image then click Open.  

Now we have our image open so let’s talk about the tools we have.

Intro to Editing Tools

Below the picture, we have a small toolbar that’s fairly self-explanatory so I’ll just tell you from left to right what each button does: Layers Palette, Undo, Redo, Hold to see Before & After (very helpful), Zoom in and out, Zoom Percentage, and Fit to Window.

On the far left side of the window, we have a few different categories that I have labeled for you above. The ones in pink are the ones we’ll be using for this tutorial, though I encourage you to look through and play around with all your options when deciding on your own style!

Cropping & Basic Editing

In Basic Edits, you’re going to select Crop.

It opens up to give you a few options. For this tutorial, I’m going to be making square icons.

Select the drop down toolbar where it says No fixed proportions and click Square. 

Adjust the highlighted square over your picture by resizing it (dragging the corners of the square) and moving it to the part of the picture you want to crop. Make sure before you crop the picture that the section you are cropping is not smaller than the size you want your icons to be.

Back in the Crop settings, click Apply.

Now you should have a nice square. But it’s not the right size so we’ll need to fix that.

In the Basic Edits category, you’re going to scroll down to the bottom and click Resize. This will open up your Resize settings.

You’re going to change the size to the size you want (I’m doing 100 x 100) and then click Apply. Now your square should be smaller! Next, we’re going to sharpen the image and change the exposure.

Back in the Basic Edits category, select Sharpen. 

Play around with the settings for Sharpness and Clarity until you like the way your image looks (your image should give you a preview as you move the sliders around). When you’re finished, select Apply.

In Basic Edits, select Exposure. 

Play around with all the settings until you like the way your image looks then click Apply.

Now you’re finished with the basic editing of your icon. If this is all you want to do, you can skip to the Saving Your Icons section of the tutorial.

Adding Effects

Effects in PicMonkey are kind of comparable to psds. It puts a nice filter over your image and they’re all easily customized. Anything with the crown symbol in the bottom left corner means you must be a member (meaning you have to pay) to use, but there are a lot of nice free options as well. To get to effects you just select Effects on the left sidebar (the one that looks like a magic wand) and then just look through the different effects offered. There are more effects under Themes which is where I’ll be getting my effect from.

I’m going to Themes on the left-hand sidebar (the apple) and selecting the Comic Heroes theme.

Click on the effect of your choosing to bring up the options for it.

Fiddle around with the settings until you’re happy with how your image looks and then click Apply.

Now you’ve added you effect(s) to your image!!! If you want to stop here, go ahead and skip to the Saving Your Icons section of the tutorial.

Icon Shapes & Borders

Now we’re going to change our icon into a shape instead of the normal square. On the left sidebar, go to Frames. This section is also where you can add borders, though there aren’t many to choose from. If you want a rounded square, click Rounded Corners. If you want any other shape, go to Shape Cutouts.

You can see you have eight different shapes to choose from. I just went with the circle. One you’ve selected a shape, you may have to adjust the size or the angle to get it the way you want. From what I can tell, if you’re doing a 100 x 100 icon, 73% is about as large as you can go for the circle size. Unless you want a colored background, make sure Transparent background has a check in the box next to it and then click Apply.

Your icon should now look similar to this one! Unless you’re wanting to add a drop shadow or add other details such as overlays or text, it’s time to save our icon!

Saving Your Icons

On the top toolbar, select save. You will be redirected to a new screen.

Name your file whatever you’d like and then select Save to my computer. Choose the location you’re saving it to and then click save. Congratulations!!! You finished your first icon in PicMonkey! Once the save is complete, you’ll be taken back to the editor.

To start on your next icons, select Open on the top toolbar and then Computer. Find your next image and then repeat the process you used to make your first one.

Finished Icon: 

If you have any questions or you’d like to see another tutorial, feel free to send me an ask! Please give this a like or a reblog if you found this tutorial helpful.

Hayley Kiyoko PNG Credit