#i was not paying full enough attention when i reread this the other day and completely missed that claude pointed & laughed at nat alkjfdsa

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

this was made for @emo-space-gay's bday a couple years back, but sta's fine with me posting it and @neocute1 left kind tags on the original story with these characters so °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° this is a vague soulmate au so idk if it's the exact same world as the first but <3

“It’s just not fair,” Claude whined.

Serenity laughed. “Our relationship isn’t exactly platonic.”

“But it’s not fair,” Claude repeated, flopping their head down in her lap to pout at her. “I wanna be your soulmate.”

“Awwww,” Serenity cooed, shoving down the tangle of fondness that statement brought in favor of rubbing her nose against theirs and baby-talking, “Is someone jealous that I have friends and you leech them off me?”

“I do not!” Claude shoved a hand in Serenity’s face and pushed it away as they sat up. “They’re my friends too!”

“Leech,” Serenity sang, slightly muffled by their hand. “Can’t make your own friends so you steal mine.”

“I can make friends! I’ll make— so many friends, and then I’ll exclude you and say you’re leeching off me, and you’ll be so sorry.”

“Sure,” Serenity said, grin peeking out from behind Claude’s hand. They shoved her face to the side, and she shoved their face in retaliation, and then they got into a minor shoving war that ended when Claude licked her hand.

“Hey!” Serenity snatched it back, scowling through her (still present) grin, and wiped it off on her shirt. Claude stuck their tongue out at her, and she snatched her hand back again.

“Beat you,” Claude sang, smirking in what Serenity just knew was a mockery of when she’d teased them a few minutes earlier.

“Oh nooooo,” she groaned dramatically, flopping sideways with a hand pressed to her forehead. “I’ve been bested. I can no longer be seen around you, the shame is too great.”

Claude snickered. “Haha, loser.”

Serenity sighed as loudly and showily as she could. “Guess I’ll have to go hang out with Luke, then—”

Claude’s face fell, and they crossed their arms, gaze trained away from her.

“Yeah,” they huffed, then turned back to her, flashing a slightly strained grin. “And I’ll go make loads and loads of friends, and you’ll be the leech.”

Serenity snickered. “Alright, have fun, then.”

They nodded jerkily and strode out of the room. Serenity’s smile fell as the door closed, too controlled to be an actual slam but with the same energy. Had she overdone it with the teasing? Accidentally hit a nerve? Were they that bothered by Luke being her soulmate; they knew they were still her best friend, right?

She’d give Claude their space, and then when they got back she’d have to tell them how much they meant to her.

“Stupid,” Claude grumbled, not entirely sure if they were referring to themself or Serenity.

It wasn’t like they didn’t know she was teasing. They’d been teasing too, mostly. (Not about wanting to be soulmates, but that was their fault. They’d given away too much and treated it too lightly, and when Serenity had treated it the same way, it’d cracked a little. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know.)

So feeling upset about it was dumb and rude of their brain, and maybe they’d actually, y’know, communicate some of this to Serenity — key to healthy relationships, yada yada yada — but not before they made a friend and showed her up. Just because they were in the same friend group didn’t mean Claude couldn’t make their own friends!

...Admittedly, they weren’t sure how to go about seeking out people to befriend, but it’d be fine! They could just— go to the marketplace, there were tons of people there, surely someone else there was in need of a friend? They got this!

Okay, so maybe making a sign that read “in the market for friends” was a little too on the nose, maybe reeked of desperation a little, but it was true, wasn’t it? Their sign told people exactly what they were looking for, and since they didn’t have a stall then they could walk around while holding it and have more people see it!

And Serenity didn’t like how crowded the marketplace was, so she wouldn’t be here while they were walking around with their sign and thus wouldn’t see it and laugh at them for it. Their plan was foolproof, surely.

...Except for the part where it took both hands holding it for the sign to be visible. Walking around advertising an available friendship was hard work, especially on a sunny day when they hadn’t thought to bring anything to drink with them. And they were thirsty, and being well-hydrated was important, so they sighed and got in line at a drink stall, tucking their sign under their arm. They’d had the foresight to bring money, thankfully.

Besides, it wasn’t like there was one person in the whole market who would be their friend, and taking a ten minute break to grab some water would mean they missed that person. Claude nodded to themself, taking a step forward as the line moved up.

Except right as they moved, someone crashed into them, sending them both to the ground.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” the someone cried, skittering to their feet and bending to help pick up Claude’s stuff.

“It’s fine,” Claude told them, subtly checking for their money. The person seemed genuine, but Claude had seen good actors before, and it was better safe and hydrated than sorry and not. The money pouch was still there, so they repeated, “It’s fine, you’re fine. I’m okay.”

“Hi Okay, I’m Nat,” they muttered, eyes blowing wide when they realized what they said. Claude thought they might’ve said something about “force of habit,” but was too busy laughing to catch it.

“It’s Claude, actually,” they introduced themself once they’d calmed down. “They/them pronouns.”

Nat grinned. “Nat, ne/nym pronouns.”

“Got an N theme going on there, huh?”

Nat huffed, sounding amused, and picked up their sign, handing it over to them at an angle that allowed nym to read it as ne did so. Nir burst of laughter told Claude exactly when ne’d finished reading it.

“I don’t think you get to judge me, here.”

Claude crossed their arms, pouting at nym, which only seemed to fuel nir laughter.

They waited patiently for a minute for nym to stop, then impatiently for another 10 seconds or so before deciding, “You know what? Just for this. Just for this, I’m making you be my friend now. This is not a choice.”

This, unfortunately, only sent Nat into further hysterics. Claude pouted at nym harder.

“Okay,” ne finally wheezed, “okay, I’ll be your friend. One condition.”

“What?”

“I get to answer any questions about how we became friends.” Ne grinned at them.

“O...kay…?” Claude squinted, trying to find the catch in the deal.

“Great!” Nir grin widened, and ne finally handed Claude’s sign back to them. “Why do you have a sign for friendship, anyway?

“To prove a point,” they answered airily. When Nat elbowed them: “My partner said I leech all my friends off of her, so I came to make a new one to prove her wrong.”

Nat hummed doubtfully. “I don’t know, you do look kind of like a leech.”

“Hey!”

“A distinctly leechy look about you, you know how it is.”

Claude lunged, intending to either shove nir face or wrestle nym into taking it back (teasing Nat already felt comfortable, but they did just meet, and Claude wasn’t sure of the boundaries yet). Nat dodged, taking off, and they chased nym through the marketplace.

Nat laughed loudly, turning around briefly to stick out nir tongue at them and promptly slamming into someone. Claude skidded to a halt, pointed, and laughed.

“‘Scuse me!” Nat squeaked to the person, who grumbled but moved away without further complaint.

“I found another friend for you,” ne stagewhispered to Claude.

“Friend-breaking up with you,” Claude declared. “They are my new friend, not you, I’m friend dumping you.”

Nat hummed, then told them, “Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope!” Ne nodded. “We both agreed to the terms and conditions, we are officially friends and the contract is not so easily broken.”

“I’m ripping it into pieces,” Claude deadpanned.

“I’ll eat it before you can.”

Claude sputtered. “Eat? You— wouldn’t that destroy it just as thoroughly as me ripping it up?”

Ne shook nir head. “I swallowed it whole, which means it’s still intact and still in effect.”

Claude opened their mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Nat grinned at them.

“It’s been hours.”

“Yep.”

“And I know I wanted to give them space, but it’s been hours.”

“It sure has.”

“I’m starting to get worried.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think they’re okay?”

“I do.”

“Should I go after them?” A shrug. “I feel like I should, but what if they’ve been gone for so long because of me and going after them just makes the problem worse? Did I upset them that much?”

“Serenity.” Claire closed starry book. “This is the fifth time we’ve been over this. Yes, Claude seemed upset when they left, and maybe you did really upset them, but you’re very sorry and it’s not like this is going to be the end of you two.

“They’ve been gone for a while, and yes, it’s a little worrying, but they’re a big kid and can handle themself, and if they’re not back by tomorrow we can go look for them.” Sta made intense eye contact with Serenity. “Got it?”

Serenity sighed. “Got it. Thanks, Claire.”

“No problem.” Claire opened starry book again. “If you come back again, try to wait at least an hour, please.”

Serenity grinned. “Sure.” She saluted star and opened the door to leave, tacking on, “No promises!” and closing the door on Claire rolling starry eyes.

The click of the door closing echoed slightly, and Serenity looked around to see Claude shutting the front door.

“Claude!” Serenity cried, running into them in a hug.

“Hey, Ser,” Claude laughed. “Miss me?”

“Yes,” Serenity complained, hugging them tighter. “And I think I said something that upset you earlier but I’m not entirely sure what it was — I mean, I think I know, but I don’t want to assume — and whatever it is, I’m really, really sorry I upset you, and—” 

“Hey,” Claude cut in gently, squeezing her. “Let’s not do this right in front of the front door. Don’t want people eavesdropping on us, yeah?” Their voice, while lighthearted in tone, sounded tired.

Serenity nodded, squeezing them tight for another few seconds before breaking the hug. She held out her hand, and Claude accepted it, offering her a smile. She returned it and pulled them upstairs into her room.

“Okay,” she said, sitting on the edge of her bed and hugging a pillow to her chest. “Let me go first, and if I’m wrong you can correct me.”

Claude nodded, sitting beside her, and they both turned to face one another.

Serenity took a deep breath, clutching the pillow tighter. “I think Luke being my soulmate bothers you more than you really let on, and I’m sorry I made light of it earlier. I value you so much, and you’re my best friend, and being soulmates with you sounds delightful. I’m sorry I didn’t make sure you knew that.”

Claude made a soft noise and drew her into a hug.

“Yeah,” they agreed, a little wetly. “I— yeah. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Serenity echoed, curling against them.

(“So why were you gone for so long, then?”

“I made a new friend!”

“No way.”

“Nir name is Nat and ne ran into me and then insulted me.”

“No way.”

“I chased nym until ne ran into someone else and ne insisted on being friends.”

“Shut up, that can’t be how it happened.”

“It is!”

“What’s the catch, then?”

“Uhhh… ne wanted to be the one to answer when people ask how we became friends? Otherwise, I don’t—”

“And you betrayed nym? Introduce us, I need to tell nym so ne can friend-dump you.”

“Oh, I already tried that!”

“What?”)

#they are my silly little guys <3 #serenity and claude are in a qpr btw!! they haven't really defined it besides 'in a non-romantic relationship' but they are #they switch between calling themselves best friends and partners bc both are true and they don't care to explain anything to anyone #they love each other so much and i just 🥺 they're my little GUYS #my fics #my writing #original story #original work #i was not paying full enough attention when i reread this the other day and completely missed that claude pointed & laughed at nat alkjfdsa #link goes to the other story i wrote with these guys!! not necessary to read but just as silly

[romancingstars]

So hold me down and never let me go.

rockstar!bassist!remus lupin x reader

warnings: established relationship , heavy flirting , kissing , living together , remus being a huge tease

to all you Remus Lupin super fans you’re probably thinking: ‘Hey! This looks familiar?’ and you’d be right! this is a repost, i’ve moved accounts and i want everything i’m proud of in the same place. so, i hope you enjoy reading, or perhaps rereading this little drabble.

960 words or smthn

“Cute skirt.” Rem complimented, leaning on the kitchen counter. You rolled your eyes in response, walking towards him. “Seriously, love, looks dead nice. Is it new?” he said, looking you up and down. He had done that a couple of times, however you decided not to comment on it. It was best not to feed the fire.

“It is new, got it the other day. With, uh, what’s your little wizard friend called. The one with funky hair.”

“Marlene? And it’s very rockstar girlfriend.”

“Yes, Marlene. She’s lovely. Also, you’re not a rockstar, Rem. You’re getting full of yourself.” you replied, sarcastically. As you giggled, he gave you a look of feigned offence.

“I’m the bassist in a rock band, dove, I am the definition of a rockstar.” he said, once again looking you up and down. You were struggling to resist the temptation of basking in his gaze. If you were religious, Remus Lupin would be the devil.

“You haven’t quite mastered the ‘star’ bit yet.” you joked, attempting to get your revenge. See, Remus always seemed to have the upper hand, when it came to you. He knew exactly what to do and what to say, when it came to you. So, it was a rare luxury to have something to hold over him.

“Ahaha. How many copies did our album sell?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Three?” you responded. Looking up at him innocently, it was taking a lot not to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck off.” he stated, shaking his head. Even though he was faking annoyance at your comments, it didn’t take long for Remus to gravitate towards you. He moved away from the counter he was leaning on and towards the sink, where his mission began. Not paying attention, you started work on making cups of tea for the two of you. You had only just finished filling the kettle, when he decided this was the perfect opportunity to snake his arms around your waist and rest his head in the crook of your neck.

“Hiya, Rem.” you whispered, giggling quietly to yourself. You tried to continue with your rather mundane task but, you knew you’d succumb to his enticement - eventually.

“Hiya, love. You’re ignoring me.” he mumbled into your neck. Feeling his warm breath, the hairs beneath his touch stood up on end. You were almost certain you would never get used to Remus acting like this.

“Am not! Let me finish what I’m doing for once, pleasee.“ you complained with frustration thick in your voice. All your efforts were futile -which you had previously predicted- as Remus dropped his hands to your hips and spun you round. Now you were face to face (what was as close as you could get to face to face) you couldn’t deny him anything. Remus was so very tall; it was impossible not to look up to him. His honey brown eyes were burning into your soul and the sensation was irresistible. Melting like putty in his touch, you were completely compliant to his every wish and desire. For the most part anyway, but if he wanted you to jump off of a bridge you’d probably have to think about it.

“There we go. C’mon you’ve been out all week, missed you.” he whined back. You found it a little funny how someone so desperate could have such a tough exterior, but decided now wasn’t the right time to comment on it.

“I’ve seen you every day, Rem, we live togeth-.”

“It’s not enough.” he cut you off, not maliciously. Even if it were, any malicious intent would be cancelled out by the sweetest action that followed. Your lips met. Soft, sweet and somewhat addictive. Far better than any ex, that was for sure. In fact, Remus was far better than anyone else you’d ever met. He moved in sync with you. One scarred hand gripped your hips and the other crept up to the side of your head, burying itself to your hair. Your own attached themselves to his sandy brown locks, tugging lightly at the strands. Feeling like your mind was about to explode, his kisses would always send your emotions into overdrive. You simply couldn’t contain yourself with him and that’s exactly what he wanted.

Breathe. You had to remind yourself to breathe as he pulled away. Resting his forehead against your own, Remus looked at you with what could only be described as love-sickness in his eyes. Cautiously, you peered up at him through your eyelashes, trying not to trigger another outburst; you just wanted to make your tea. However, you would never admit how much you enjoyed Remus when he was like this because after all nothing is fun without a game.

“Much better.” he said, simply. His eyes never left you and you had to admit you couldn’t look away either. Fuck. “Okay, you can go make your tea now.” he added as a sly smirk crept onto his face. Fuck.

“Remus! You’re such a prick- oi. Come back.” uoi whined, frowning at him as he walked away. In response all he did was shrug his shoulders.

Then, he said “Sorry, dove. Got rehearsals with my rock band see you later though. Love you.”. He grabbed his jacket from the hooks beside the door and gave you one final kiss goodbye. It was short and anything but sweet. It was horrifically mean. And just like that, he was gone.

You were left standing in your kitchen starstruck. Unable to think, do or see anything other than him, you found yourself rendered incapable. Somehow, his temptation always had this affect. You just had to pray he’d be in a good mood later, a less teasing mood perhaps.

#remus lupin #bassist!remus lupin #rockstar!remus #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you #rockstar!marauders #i love remus lupin

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Hiding Tears

Lee Felix/ Reader

Friendship Fluff

circa 1900 words

You are stressed out and overwhelmed and Felix is simply there for you.

Way too much happened over the last weeks. While you were dealing with everything that was thrown at you, you had not much time to think, reflect, let alone release emotions and stress. It wasn't too bad in the beginning. You welcomed the change, less time to be bored and overthink, more tasks that actually mattered.

Automatically, you used your phone less, and if you did, there was intention. It felt good, and you wanted to establish a less screen-focused lifestyle, so Felix took you to a bookstore after you mentioned current alterations.

'This one?', he asked and pulled out a book from the shelf.

It was his idea to get a bunch of books, so you have something to read whenever you feel bored. You had no idea what new books you should get, rather interested in rereading the same few that you knew you enjoyed than getting into new stories.

'Don't know.', you mumbled and felt frustration rising in your chest.

You walked along the shelf and had a hard time paying attention to the book titles. The various colours, some shimmering covers, and glittering fonts overwhelmed you. A few shelves behind you sounded the voice of other customers. They laughed and excitedly read out loud the blurb of a book.

'They sound like they found something.', you mumbled, and Felix stepped next to you, carrying three books in his arm.

'What did you say?', he asked and handed you a book he was holding to give you a chance to read into it. You took the exemplar and turned it around, already annoyed by the green cover with black glitter. Fantasy books were always so unnecessarily extravagant, in your opinion. Who wants to have a hand full of glitter while reading? The blurb didn't convince you either. It was the regular plot of the protagonist suddenly discovering that they have superpowers, that they're actually special as if anyone needed to be extraordinary to be special.

'I don't think fantasy is the genre.', you announced, and Felix nodded and brought the books back to their destined spot within the alphabetical order of all authors that perpetuated their personal fragments on those pages.

'I think I'll just order a bunch of books online.', you planned, and your friend looked up from a new book he just picked up.

'Wanna leave?', he questioned and fondly smiled at you when you nodded. After he put the book back, he took your backpack and threw it over his shoulder. With his hand on your upper back, you were led out of the store, saying goodbye to the cashiers and wishing them a good day.

Fortunately, there was a bus stop right in front of the store, and the bus itself didn't take long to arrive. All seats were taken, so you and Felix had to squeeze in between the crowd of people standing in the hallway. The motor was loud, and the air was sweaty. People towered over you, and there was no space to move without stepping on someone's feet when you lost balance due to the bus's sudden stops and turns.

Tears started burning in the corner of your eyes, and when the stupid-looking book covers didn't already overwhelm you enough, then sure, the bus ride did. The bus took another curve, and there was no pole to hold onto for you. Everything was blocked or already conquered by the other people. Quickly, Felix circled one free arm around your waist and gently pushed you against him. He was holding onto a horizontal pole above him, too high for you to reach. His grip was tight, and he probably needed a lot of strength to stabilise himself already, muscles flexed and body stiff to keep up with the vehicle's movement.

'Hold onto me.', he instructed quietly and kept his arm around you. His hand rested warmly on your back with a calming effect, and once you held onto him by simply hugging his torso, he started gently caressing up and down, his protective touch never leaving you.

With each stop, the bus started getting emptier and emptier, people leaving busily, and even though there now was enough space for you to stand freely by yourself, you kept standing close next to Felix whose hand kept resting on your shoulder. When you finally arrived at your stop, Felix adjusted the backpack and took your hand to walk out.

He actually was quietly taking care of you, and it seemed so natural that you began tearing up again. Too much bad, too much good, it didn't matter anymore. The second you felt something slightly intensely, it brought you close to breaking down. You wondered how long it would take today.

You stopped walking, and Felix turned towards you. You expected him to be surprised, questioning why you didn't keep walking, but there was no sign of that. He just looked at you patiently, rubbing your upper arm in a comforting manner, and all you wanted was to fall forward into his embrace, hiding from the world, hiding from yourself.

Suddenly, you looked away, pretending that something next to you was very interesting. You searched for something that could genuinely distract you. Your sight landed on two kids giggling at each other, one holding some daisies in their hands. You smiled and felt your tears going back.

Ready to look at Felix again, you wondered if you should tell him what you felt or if you were collected enough to just ignore your sudden overwhelm and keep walking.

'You good?', he asked, and before you could even think of how to answer, you were already shaking your head, and the sting of tears appeared again.

In a hurry, you turned around and pretended that you had to cough.

'Bit thirsty.', you laughed it off and continued walking, just wanting to be home and hide away. It was already embarrassing enough how often you could have started crying today, but you were even more embaressed by your weird attempts on hiding your tears from Felix, especially knowing that he had no problem with experiencing people crying.

Arriving at the front door of your apartment complex, you expected Felix to give you your bag back, but he just stood there, unimpressed, looking at you with a calm and knowing gaze. Hesitantly, you pointed behind him.

'Uhm, do you want to keep that?', you asked and thought he may have simply forgotten that he was carrying your stuff, but he shook his head immediately as if he was ready, already waiting for you to ask.

'Okay?', you asked, a bit amused by his mysterious quietness.

'I thought we could spend the whole day together. I have nothing else scheduled for today.', he explained straightforwardly and added, 'If that's okay for you, of course. I'm not gatekeeping your belongings.'

You huffed, feeling the tears again. However, this time, because you were happy to have such a great friend. You nodded repeatedly, 'Sure, sure.', turned around and opened the door, holding it open for him and then took quick steps up the stairs. Maybe you would end up so out of breath that you had no energy left for crying, you hoped.

His quiet behaviour today was unusual for him. You thought that he just didn't talk much to not annoy the people in the bookstore, but now that you fiddled with keys and opened the door with him standing behind you, still all quiet, you realised that he'd been like this the whole morning.

The second the door closed behind you two and the safe, familiar atmosphere of your apartment was supposed to engulf you, you recognised the chaotic state you left it. The way you forgot about the unwashed dishes that piled up next to the sink, the laundry that was waiting next to the washing machine, probably smelling already and the random objects that were laying around, not at their destined place, made you feel deeply embarrassed.

'Sorry, I, ahm, didn't tidy up. I forgot that it's a mess here.', you informed Felix who was taking off his shoes. He looked up and snorted when he looked around.

'You know, you're probably the only one I know who would consider this a mess.', he reminded and listed how his apartment's default setting was three times worse. '..., but I have pretty lightning in my room, and that easily overshadows my mess.', he laughed.

'Funny.', you plainly remarked and wondered if you just needed more light in your life that could overshadow your mess. Felix might have realized by now that you were truly uncomfortable because he stepped closer and playfully poked your cheek. 'If it's bothering you', he nodded towards the general space of your apartment, 'let me help you tidying up. Maybe you can finally relax then.' A bit quieter he added, 'You've been tense all day, am low-key worried.'

There they were again, the tears that desperately wanted to escape, freely fload down your cheek, but you fought against them once again.

'Sure.', you spoke, voice shaky, so you cleared your throat, 'I'll just get some, ahm...'. An excuse to leave him for a moment was what you were searching for. The best you could come up with was, 'Boxes. I wanted to sort the plates and bowls into boxes.'

Without waiting for his reaction, you left to go to your bedroom. Some small cartons that you kept from stuff you'd ordered online were under your bed, covered by a layer of dust. When you returned to the living area, Felix was already busy washing plates, bowls, and clutter. To your surprise, he was almost done with everything, and you wondered why you thought the task would've needed at least half an hour to be completed.

'Got the boxes?', he asked and turned around, a wet plate in his hand.

You nodded and weakly waved them in front of you, not able to smile the slightest. A tear rolled down your cheek, and you turned around in shock. You didn't realize what happened, when you dropped to the floor in heavy sobs, the cartons still in your hand as if that was the only thing that you could hold onto - a silly excuse.

Silently, drying his hands with a towel, Felix sat down on the floor in front of you, patiently watching you. He slowly extended on arm, offering you his hand. You didn't take it. However, he didn't pull back. He just waited. After your sobs calmed down and the tears silently ran over your skin, you managed to look up at him, realising that you still held onto the cartons.

You placed them on the floor next to you and looked at Felix's hand and then up into his eyes questioningly. He just nodded, and you shyly placed your hand in his. Gently, he pulled you up against him and, with a sight, embraced your ebbing figure. He didn't say a single word and just held you, rocking you from side to side in a soothing manner.

The rest of the day was defined by tidying up your apartment with quiet music as background noise, Felix always by your side the second you start tearing up again. He wouldn't hug you immediately. He would just stand there. Sometimes you took his hand, sometimes you leaned against him, and sometimes you just looked at him and automatically broke into a thankful smile.

It was weird how he didn't talk much today, but you understood that his company was helping you to deal with your emotions without any distractions, but with all excuses and all followed break downs that you happened to come up.

#straykids imagines #stray kids fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #lee felix fanfic #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee felix fluff

[lemon-shortbread]

👀 did someone say horny at work?

i sneak into work with you with loads of snacks and other goodies to feed you. i'm hiding to make sure that i don't get kicked out and i can keep you well fed during your shift. i want to make sure you're kept full and happy even when you're feeling too full and it feels like your stomach is going to burst through your uniform.

maybe when you're not paying attention i'm there rubbing your belly to remind you i'm there and the reason you're steadily growing around the midsection. i even sneakily take pictures (definitely asked for your consent to do that before we go to your job) to tease you how big you'regetting, how gorgeous you look rounding out like you're pregnant.

maybe it's purposeful so i can have you crave carrying babies. maybe specifically my babies if you're okay with it. i want us to come home and you feeling so flustered about your size while going on and on about how unfair it is that you're this big with no baby to speak of. or maybe you're just complaining that you're not full enough because you're still hungry so the rest of the night is spent with filling you with more foods and ending the night with your stomach so tight you're whining and asking me for belly massages to ease the tightness?

bro the way ive just been staring at this in my inbox for days just rereading it is absolutely fucking OBSCENE, omfg id be a stuffed mess 🥰

what do you want for sending me gold like this?? this is like everything i love

#preg kink #stuffing kink #wg text #alfjfhjfdjfjfjf #dude you cant keep getting away with this i WILL melt my mind #top favies

[alphaofdarkness]

Okay Dany, convince me to ship Kidge. What is the appeal of this ship? (genuinely asking because I've only watched season 1 and I'm curious)

⁉️👀⁉️

Not gonna lie anon, your question caught me off guard at 2am on a Sunday,, I was like 😳

“Oh shit someone's asking me?? About a ship?!” The intimidating question was so real and all I could do was literally go on a feral tirade on why I love Kidge so much and legit made no sense and just kept wondering in between moments of clarity on how I can properly defend myself on why I like the ship 😩 (not that I need to or have too, enough time has passed where I can say,,, just let me ship and be blissfully happy UwU, I do not car e anymore lol)

I will say that I want to keep this brief (as best I can, because heck I went feral just talking to myself on why I like the ship), I’m not the best at explaining things like some other amazing people might in the ship tag. But take what I say with a grain of salt and hope I don’t scare you off with whatever I do type.

**Note: This is not entirely brief liike how I wanted and I hate myself,, feck,,, I failed step one immediately**

Imma do bullet points, thoughts and prayers y'all cause I did my best to explain my chaotic thoughts lol ;;w;;

First and foremost! I definitely recommend that you watch the show in the general scope of a viewer and not just focusing on a ship. I think everyone should and would be aware of that~ but much like my initial watch I wasn’t paying much attention to the show and lore and story because I was distracted~. It wasn’t with Kidge at the time, but it definitely impeded my watch in the beginning as well as me falling off the fandom for a while into season 3-5. Plus, me rushing through those seasons when season 7 was coming around like, blood hell Alpha.

I think it goes without saying because the show is really good and love the found family aspect of it most importantly 👏🏼👏🏼 I am a sob and a fecking mess about this trope and I will forever cry over it.

I highly recommend watching the show in increments too instead of just binging it because you will lose information much faster 😭 and also it is just so fun to look forward to watch it the next day. I had so much fun this month just rewatching the show and am kind of depressed that it’s over lol 😔

Don’t cry because it’s over be happy for the journey (and all the fanfics you can reread again with full, understanding knowledge 😌)

Additionally, it is fun to reflect on the episodes re-watched, to better retain the info, at least for me, I can be slow with digesting new information (especially after so long), but it also made me giddy just talking to myself about the silly or serious shenanigans happening in the episode.

Second of all! I don’t want to convince you to ship Kidge 😩 I want you to convince yourself on why they would be good and cute together from your perspective! 👏🏼👏🏼

I personally think that they just work so well together, and while their initial interactions are short and brief, I love seeing them just standing next to each other or sharing panels during the fight sequences through much of the early seasons! I will say liike season 7 (even season 8) is like a holy grail for Kidge shippers because— 😩👏🏼 AH, took a while to get there, but we made it besties!!

Considering you’ve only seen season 1, I won’t dive into too many spoilers! To the best of my ability, I will say, I tended to focus on where the two stood by one another a lot and how they interacted in their lions and as Voltron and outside of it! ~

1. They both have family members/familial others on the trip to the Kerberos mission and just the whole concept of them looking for their respective familial figures.

Like that’s is the first part of the whole “WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL 😩” the way the two of them are shown to fight tooth and nail to save and go out of their way to figure out where their family members are is just 🤧✨ I truly believe if there was an opportunity to grow and develop them together it would have been over this.

I also find it incredibly fascinating that they are two of the most prominent characters that dive into their backstories in flashback sequences through the seasons ahead (we got a glimpse of Pidge's backstory in season 1 with a few more down the line). And how similar the two are in some of their experiences like school and being bullied and how their familial figures guide them (Shiro to Keith and Matt, and her father, to Pidge).

Hell, all of this could have been played as platonic all the way through or something more. Like I was there for it 👏🏼 I feel like this is a strong cemented stone on why I ship them a lot and keep me going on the potential their relationship could have been if they knew one another before the pilot episode. I just think it would have been cool, two conspiracy theorist bypassing the government to search for the truth!

2. They are literally the right and left arms of Voltron; the sword and shield ✨

I sincerely wish so much that again their relationship could have been developed more in the early seasons with this aspect, especially since we see how developed both Lance and Hunk are with each other (I mean they are literally best friends at the Garrison, I needed most of that with Kidge especially since they would be the opposite to them so it would have great to see them develop together as the arms of Voltron 🤧).

I just think it would have been nice to see it play out on how well they work together on the field and off it. I will say! It isn't all lost, especially into season 3 and like late season 6 and onwards! I say the dynamic of Shiro and Pidge in their lions and as Voltron currently is what kind of develops in Keith and Pidge later! I hope you can make sense of that later on as you keep watching 👀!

3. Other general things about their tropes and personalities just give me more fuel to ship them, such as:

Them both being introverted to heck in their respective ways; the techie nerd and the emo loner like,,, sillies!

I am always someone who loves looking at character color palettes and how they mesh well together; so believe me I lost my mind when Kidge shippers literally came up with Kidgemas cause of their red and green colors and I just *screams* 🌿🔥

I love both their personalities and how similar, yet different, they are to one another in that respect; they both have a drive and fire in them, their sarcasm and jibs to the others is so funny.

I'm not over season 1 episode,,, 2? Of the team training together and like,,, first of all, the two's small spat because Pidge couldn't concentrate during the mental exercise, but literally leaping to her defense when Allura threw food goo at her like,, Ah I just love her sarcasm to Allura then "The princess of what, your not ours--" and i just like go off queen, but also please no fighting 😩 y’all are going to be family ah,,, i love my dysfunctional family so much ya'll

Keith making a face at the action and immediately "Go loose, Pidge" LIKE AH! 👏🏼👏🏼😩😩

But they also have their calm moments of serene clarity and peace that is heighted with their interactions with the other characters as well!

I also noticed how they both tend to be the mature ones in some cases and some situations when around the other or a shared mature figure like Shiro; Keith by like a lot, clearly, but I was increasingly surprised by how Pidge maintained some serious temperament during missions, especially when around Hunk and most definitely around Lance lol (It is funny tho how serious and mildly annoyed she gets to his flirtatious ways, but can also immediately just let her guard down and have giddy fun with him when something catches her interest, it's so cute and hilarious 😌).

I also just love their development through the show of just letting their guard down around the others overtime! Especially with Keith and how his lone wolf personality melts away (believe me I lost my mind at how many sweet moments were between him and Hunk and IM just here crying at how Keith was able to smile and have fun around him 😭 💛❤️ got me all emotional i fecking criED). As well as Pidge with the others, especially after she told them about her true identity and how she wants to be able to work with them better without any secrets (On a side note, I wish there was more moments with Allura and Pidge earlier on ;;;o;;; SHE LEARNED ALTEAN FOR HER AND CORAN AND IM JUST,,, sweetie I love you! YOUR HONOR THEY ARE SISTERS! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼).

Ah shit, is that season 1 or 2? ;;w;; well, she learns it a nice fact! My girl is such a genius like how did she not like,,, move up grades in school, she is so intelligent , i could never. Not gonna lie, I feel like the team wouldn't be as successful with intel if they didn't have her and her tech wizard skills because DAMN.

Also how Keith was so up and arms when Pidge wanted to leave initially like!? Please ;;w;; sir has abandonment issues, please don't leave sweetie (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀); but also a similar scene occurs, very briefly, later on in reverse :) so take that as you will! It is very small, almost negligible if you aren't paying attention to it.

It is made better by a concluding panel that Kidge shippers just lose their minds over ! (Me, I am kidge shippers and I lost my mind over and over because they are just — *cries and sobs* perfecto!)

Very minor thing, but the height difference (in general im weak in the knees for this) always gets me crying, screaming, throwing up, going feral on the ground. My dearest Pidge, she may gain some legs later in life, but like she is definitely still tiny and I sob, give us short queens some representation because it is so hard out here, and we will kill you (not Allura bending down to her height in that episode she was planning to leave; how NOT to talk to a short person Allura lol 😩)

I think it goes without saying that the whole team, including Keith, are protective of Pidge like as they should be and I just *grins mischievously* can say with confidence that he do 😌

Definitely more of a personal headcanon, and there is a Kidge art of it floating around somewhere in the tag, if they actually had more moments and trained together, but I love Pidge being taught on how to defend herself, especially one on one and like her managing to take down Keith in training and he's just like "⁉️⁉️😳⁉️⁉️” God, I love a woman that can kick my ass trope *chokes*.

I am a sucker for hearing their voices and tone and emotions, so you know for damn well I am listening to them just say the others name in a soft or sarcastic tone lol (I love Steven Yeun's voice, my Glenn 😭, I am a mess for not appreciating Keith before in my initial watch of the show).

Ah, I can go on and off about them, especially about the later seasons but like you're just going to have to take a look of it yourself as you go into it 😌

Once again, I definitely recommend you watch the show for what it is in its storytelling and lore and character development; you can keep a close eyed view of Kidge in the background, but definitely rewind for the moments or stop and pause or rewind for the information given in story.

I hope you enjoyed my nonsense speak and take something away from it or ignore it altogether. I don't mind, I want you, overall, to convince yourself on why you would like to ship Kidge as you watch the show, if at all! We are all here for a fun and good time after the show's initial debut 😌🌿🔥

Have a small doodle of Kidge! My first time drawing them after like 4 1/2 years and I am just,,, yelling at my growth in art and how cute I made them look; mild spoiler, I suppose, of their older selves appearances~ Hope you like! 😌✌🏼

Enjoy your day anon!

#kidge #alpha rambles #alpha howls #voltron #sorry about my nonsense rambling if it makes any sense at all #i love kidge very much they wormed their way into my heart out of nowhere late into the seasons #and I've just love the what could've been should've been-would've been for me

[redux-iterum]

As Predicted, Lynx is a Nerd

This is my third time rereading the series, and it’s been at least five years since I last gave a full reread. For some background, I first found WoF back in 2015 shortly after catching up with most of the Warriors books published and had a blast with that. Funnily enough, I still had WoF on the brain when I discovered worldbuilding, so guess what came under the scalpel.

Because I can’t come up with anything better to comment on in this book, let’s see how many worldbuilding inconsistencies I can poke holes into, followed by a tracker of how much time in-universe has progressed.

I think the first biggest question sitting in the back of everyone’s heads is how these cities of apex predators haven’t caused ecological collapse. Do you realize how much food needs to be produced in order to feed a city? And not only do these dragons have at least one major city, but they have villages! The implication is there’s at least a thousand dragons per tribe (barring exceptions), and that’s not ecologically sustainable.

Another thing is that all the dragons of the continent speak the same language when they’re largely isolated for the most part. You could make an argument that they're using a lingua franca to communicate for the purposes of war, but backwater villagers (as much as they don’t exist in WoF A1) wouldn’t need to learn the language. And when A3 gets here, don’t you worry, I’ll bitch about that too.

So! Peril. The only yandere I actually like. Let’s measure how hot her scales probably are. She melts gold pretty easily sometime later in the series, which melts at 1063°C (1945°F). She melts iron pretty easily in this book, which has a melting point of 1538°C (2800°F). And later in the series, she makes talonprints of glass in the sand. Glass has to be blisteringly hot to make the pretty stuff for jewelry or the clear stuff we use nowadays, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and say she only made crude glass. That’s 1700°C (3092°F) at the bare minimum. Granite, the rock with the lowest melting point, melts at 1215-1260°C (2220-2300°F), yet Peril—to my recollection—never melts a rock. Neat. Anyway.

As for the timeline, I reread this book part-by-part, paying attention to the passage of time. From Clay and Kestrel sparring to setting out to the Kingdom of the Sea, it’s been eight days. I knew it felt like a short time but it wasn’t until now that I realized just how much the DoD are trying to speedrun wrapping up this war. Like what Dullard said, “kids’ book”, but reading this hot off the heels of fellow fantasy books The Wheel of Time and Mistborn whose first books take months to do everything, it’s quite a bit of whiplash. Even Into the Wild took three months from “fire alone will save our Clan,” to “your new name is Fireheart,” (though two were time-skipped over).

In honesty, it’s somewhat amusing how Dullard and I flip in disposition when referring to Warriors or WoF. One gets riled up in a tizzy griping about every little thing done wrong and the other is acknowledging flaws, but isn’t so hung up on them. Maybe it’s having the cardboard background of worldbuilding crumple upon leaning on it.

#lynx #editor #readmore #wings of fire #book club

[karioke13]

Who are your top ten favorite Thor characters? Why are they your faves?

Hello 👋🏼😄 and wow what an interesting question! I’m going to based the Thor characters based on the comics and the movies as well!

1. Jane Foster -When I first was in middle school, my school had a book about all the comic heroes and she was on there. And something about her story really stuck with me. I thought “wow this character is so cool! I think she’s my favorite superhero” Then of course I watched Thor and I figured out that Jane Foster was played by none other than the fantastic Natalie Portman who I knew because before being a Marvel fan I was a huge Star Wars fan and I thought Padmé was so cool. And over time as I started watching more movies with Jane and finally last year getting most of the Mighty Thor comics, she is by far my favorite superhero and character in Marvel. She represents what a hero should be in my opinion.

2. Thor - Now when I watched Thor I was really fond of him. I loved how he saved the people of Jane’s town despite knowing them for about a couple days. I really loved MCU Thor mostly. Chris Hensworth did a fantastic job as Thor. No one could have done it better. I love Thors kind and compassionate heart and his need to help others. His backstory as well is so interesting! To this day, Thor remains one me of my favorite Avenger!

3. Darcy - I know she’s not part of the comics but one of the best parts of the first and second Thor movies for me was Darcy’s humor and how sassy she was. And I love how she became a doctor like Jane in Wandavision. Overall she was such a fun and relatable character that kept me laughing!

4. Freya/Frigga - One of the things I loved about reading the Thor comics was whenever Thors mother Freya was on. She is such a fascinating character. She’s intelligent, a good queen and mother and overall a badass! I always loved her relationship with Thor and I feel like we never got enough of that in the Thor franchise. And side note I also loved her friendship with jane and how they are always there for each other! I really wished we had more of Freya in the movies because she’s just so amazing

5. Heimdall - I love Heimdall in the movies and in the comics. I loved the bond that he and Thor shared throughout the movies and comics. And I love how he was sort of like a second father to Thor and Loki. What makes me sad is that both versions end up dying (rip Heimdall) I hope we do see more of him though!

6. Roz Solomon - Roz Solomon is so underrated in the comics! She’s an amazing SHIELD agent who’s such a badass! I loved the relationship she and Jane had especially! It just felt so natural and they greatly respected each other! One of my favorite parts in the comics is when Jane tells her she’s Thor showing how she trusts her and Roz goes “can everyone stop turning into things now” Overall such a sassy, awesome character! I was sad when we didn’t see much of her in the Valkyrie series!

7. Fandral - I remember reading both the comics and watching the first Thor I never really payed attention to the warrior three. But recently I watched the dark world thanks to @beheworthy 😄 and Fandral kept making me laugh the whole time. And I love Zachary Levi too so that made it even better! And then I reread some of my thor comics he was briefly in and he was great in that too. He’s just an overall funny character!

8. Volstagg - Out of all the warriors three, in my opinion, Volstagg had the kindest heart. He would help Jane being senator in the Congress of Worlds as well as just being a good friend! The saddest moment he had is when he picked up the War Hammer and was becoming rage full. It made me so sad that kind Volstagg was the War Thor. And he was great in the movies too! Rest in peace Ray Stevenson 😢

9. Sif - I’ve recently been loving Sif! She’s such an amazing warrior as well as protective of Asgard in the movies and in the comics. I love how in the comics they made her the new gatekeeper to replace heimdall. I thought that greatly suited her. She’s truly a fierce fighter!

10. Valkyrie (Brunhilde) - Valkyrie’s death killed me in war of the realms. I was not expecting her to die so horribly in War of the Realms. I also really enjoyed Valkyrie in the Marvels! She was really funny and her dynamic with Carol was adorable!

Those are all my favorite characters in the Thor franchise. I also decided to make a list of characters I liked the least in the Thor franchise

1. Odin - I HATE HIM SO MUCH! I am not even kidding you I despise Odin I could write a whole essay on why I hate him (perhaps another time) but my blog is an Odin hate blog. He’s at the top of the list for a variety of reasons I won’t list right now.

2. Loki - I’m only putting Loki on here because I love to hate him. Loki was never really one of my favorites when I first became a marvel fan but I just love to hate him. That’s the only reason why im putting him on here.

But thank you so much @zndr315-blog for asking me this! I’ve never really gotten to list my favorite Thor characters so thank you! 😄🙌🏼

#marvel #thor #jane foster #darcy lewis #freya #frigga #heimdall #roz solomon #fandral #volstagg #sif #valkyrie #odin borson #loki laufeyson #mcu #marvel comics #thor comics #favorite characters #🧡

[ovaryacted]

For the get to know the writer thing!

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic, i want to know ALL, i just LOOOOVE this things and the process of art/job, please don't be shy and share with us all you think before and if you're satisfied with every piece of your creative process.

—🎨 (the art anon)

Me getting an anon with an emoji makes me feel like I’m the leader of a country omg. It’s nice to meet you, and I’ve been meaning to answer this but I wanted to give you the best answer since mine would be more in depth lol.

So, my creative process can be very lengthy and hectic most of the time because I just have an active brain. It all starts with a thought, usually the tropes or ideas I get when it comes to writing come to me during the most mundane times. They’ll pop into my head when I’m listening to certain songs, or when I see something in particular outside I find for inspiration, but most of my ideas come to me in the shower or in my dreams crazy enough.

Afterwards, I come up with a vague idea branching off of that one thought I had, it’ll be a theme tied to a song maybe, like a regular bullet point that I add to my notes app and revisit later. When I have the energy or motivation to focus on that one singular thought, that’s when I brainstorm, which usually involves me chugging some coffee or wine to really get my brain working. I write random things about what I want to achieve, word count goal, keywords I want to add or pay attention to, and what I want the piece to show.

Once I’m happy with brainstorming, I outline to make up how I want the writing piece to flow or how I want readers to feel after they’re done reading it. I usually don’t do outlines even when I was back in school I didn’t use them. But with my own writing it just helps me keep my ideas organized so I don’t lose track of what I plan on putting down on the page.

Then really it’s just writing out my ideas as best as I can the first time around, which is always the hardest part for me. What I like to do is I like to finish writing everything in one go, no stress just write what first comes to my head. After I’m done, I’ll sleep on it for a day, and then come back to it to reread and edit it completely. I edit in 3 phases as crazy as that sounds but that’s what works for me and this is what it looks like:

1 - changes to the flow of the piece or additions to the idea/theme

2 - edit repeating words and phrases so I find synonyms or other ways to describe things

3 - grammatical errors and formatting of paragraphs, etc.

This was also the same way I’d do my big academic papers in college so it just carried over when I’m writing lol. I know it probably sounds a bit neurotic and crazy with how I’m describing it, but most of the time it takes me about a full week to write something I’m happy with. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever been like super happy with my work. I always feel like I can do better or change things, and I have a bad habit of comparing myself because I take this seriously and only want to show ppl the best of my work. I know in the end I’ll only get better, but I’m glad I have a routine that works for me when it comes to creating. I will say, I’m getting more confident in my writing so I hope it sticks. :)

#ovaryacted asks #this was so nice to think abt tho cause I haven’t thought about my creative process like ever #₊˚⊹♡ ─ my art anon 🎨

[asoiaf-essays-collector]

I saw how many Sansa antis hopped on your girl in grey post, so I wanted to drop in and say how much I enjoyed reading it even if others yell at you in a futile effort to convince themselves it won’t happen. 😆 I recognized those bloggers and they’re notorious Sansa haters who look for new victims, so don’t take any of their criticisms personally. Blocking makes the tumblr experience so much nicer and is often necessary as a Sansa fan.

Your art is gorgeous btw! 💛

Hi, anon!

It's been a while... sorry for answering several months later.

I was done with tumblr for a while actually. When I got all those responses for that post I found out that, unfortunately, I'm one of those snowflakes who can't handle negative comments on the Internet very well. For a little while I got kinda paranoid about it - those reblogs made me feel very stupid even though I knew that most of their "takes" are just a huge pile of bullshit. And I just don't take feeling stupid well enough (thanks to my classmates for this trauma).

(I can see where I could be wrong in my take depending on the future books. I felt kinda in the wrong in the start but I stopped paying much attention to those reblogs after I saw the words "Sansa is classist and sexist"🙃 and a bunch of other antisansa shit. It still kinda hurt though. I even stopped my asoiaf reread because I couldn't concentrate on books, it kept reminding me of all the hate.)

The whole situation made me feel sick of the Internet culture where you can shit on a person all you want even though all they did is writing their theories and opinions. (Like really, even though I've seen a tremendous load of posts I don't agree with - I've never shitted on people like that in reblogs or fought in comment section, I just don't understand it). And unfortunately, Tumblr is epitomy of this unhealthy and toxic culture.

In addition, just at that time (literally the same day) my life got an unexpected turn so even though I got over that thing my hands were still full with all the life stuff and my tumblr routine was long gone.

Long story short, in a few days I'm moving to another city and starting a whole new chapter in my life all because that one day I saw all the negativity I got and thought "well, my day can't get any worse".

I've seen your ask much earlier though - and I've felt so much better about the whole situation. I think I was able to get over this all thanks to you.

Thank you so much for your support💛. I used to think that if at least one person likes the thing I wrote - it was worth it. Apparently I forgot about my own belief for quite some time. Thank you for reminding me that.

I think when I'm done with moving I'll post another art.

Lesson learned though. Never will I ever tag any other character in my posts.

[writingforfun0714]

Hello everyone, sorry I have been inactive for about a month or so.

I’ve also been hard at work on my very first request for @depressed-sasuke

I wanna thank you for being so patient with me. Like I said earlier, I ended up doing a rewrite and took some stuff out cuz it had started to trail on a bit too long. I also noticed quite a few typos doing a quick reread so if there’s any others I missed, I’m sorry—I really just wanted to post this today. I hope you like it🥰

Maisy

Request from @depressed-sasuke : Jungle Book (2016) OC character

About the character

—Name: Santi

—16 M

I also added a few other OCs just to fill out some human characters.

Warnings: Spoilers for Jungle Book 2016, 3rd POV, OC character/s, long fic

10,433 word count

A Chance Encounter

3rd POV

It’s a warm day in the Seeonee jungle. The breeze is light and there’s not a cloud in the sky. Shere Khan, the law-breaking tiger, has been gone for 6 years, ever since his fight with the mancub, Mowgli. The boy himself saw the tiger fall into the Red Flower. Despite stealing the forbidden Red Flower and nearly burning down the jungle, Mowgli had shown great courage and strength in choosing to side with his wolf brethren and using his intelligence to outsmart the ferocious tiger.

After the great elephants put the flames out, Mowgli had decided to remain with the wolfpack that his mother, Raksha, now leads. For 6 years, the jungle had known peace and tranquility. In those years, Mowgli has grown into a strong, confident, if a bit wild 16yr old. Remnants of his childhood is still visible with his red loincloth still in use and his boyish face not having grown into that of a full-grown man’s face, though his hair has gotten longer and his body is no longer scrawny and small but muscular and lean, littered with a few scars.

Despite Shere Khan’s defeat, there are rumors that he lives. Men from the manvillage claim to have seen shadows of a monster. Among those men is Dev, an accomplished hunter of the village. Mostly hunting for food, Dev has only hunted in order to protect and feed the manvillage unlike those who view hunting as a sport and kill for fun.

Dev is a single father who has a 16 year old son named Santi. Santi has soft brown skin and jet black hair with the same intense, dark eyes as his father. Santi’s mother, Dev’s wife, was killed bringing Santi into the world. While Santi loves the jungle, he also gets along well with the other children in the village. In fact, he’s with them right now as the adults discuss what to do about Shere Khan.

The adults are gathered around the fire pit in the center of the village. It’s mostly men, though there are a couple women also gathered too. Santi is keeping the kids out of the way but they’re still close enough to overhear what the adults say. They are worried about their cattle disappearing.

“No one has seen anything? Really?” A middle aged man asks, looking around at the crowd. People murmur ‘no’s and shake their heads.

“It’s a monster-“ a woman says, garnering attention.

“A monster?” A young man asks and she nods.

“We all know monsters are not real,” the first man argues.

“It had burned flesh and a blind left eye,” the woman insists. Whispers of Shere Khan, the tiger, flow through the crowd. An argument suddenly forms between the woman and the middle aged man.

“Khan burned in the forest fire 6 years ago-“ he says.

“Did you see it? Did anyone actually see the tiger perish in the flames?” The woman asks the crowd and no one answers. Some even look away. The arguing continues, but Santi has stopped paying attention and started remembering the day the village saw the fire engulfing the jungle across the river. Santi was a young 10 year old boy who just started to learn the basics of hunting. Santi was with his father as he told hunting stories to the other men gathered around the huge bonfire. It was nighttime and Santi was sitting on a small rock, working on re-stringing his bow when he saw it. A shadowy figure that made its way across the bridge. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he did see the mysterious figure take one of the torches and run back into the jungle. That was right before the alarm bell rang to alert everyone about the fire. Santi never told anyone about the mysterious figure and the torch.

“Monster or not, something is killing our livestock. Until we catch the culprit, I suggest we have watch duty over the herd,” Dev suggests.

“Messua, you said the creature was burned?” Dev asks and the young woman nods.

“Badly…it..it had no pelt left-“ Messua says, remembering the vivid, grotesque beast that was once Shere Khan. She shivers fearfully.

“Everyone, I will need the most experienced hunters with me to track down this beast, volunteers be warned, you may not return,” Dev says. 3 strong young men in their 30s step forward. Dev knows them, being the best hunter of the village, he taught those men himself when he was a teenager and they were children. Santi stands and he makes eye contact with his father.

“I’m ready to join you Father, I’ll make you proud,” Santi assures his father. Knowing how far his son has come with his lessons and teachings, Dev nods approvingly.

“I’ve always been proud of you Son,” Dev says as the children give Santi encouragement.

“We will take the time to gather our weapons and ready ourselves. It’s nearly sunset, so we will depart then,” Dev says as Messua steps forward.

“While the hunting party is out, we need to decide who will watch over the herd of cattle,” she says as Santi, his father and the 3 volunteers head off to get what they need. Meanwhile deep in the jungle…

The Seeonee wolfpack is gathered around Council Rock. Raksha, Mowgli’s mother, is sitting on the Alpha’s spot with the rest of the Pack all sitting at attention. The Pack elders are sitting to Raksha’s left. Mowgli is sitting with his siblings and Baloo the bear while Bagheera is up in a nearby tree that overlooks Council Rock.

“Alright, quiet please everyone,” Raksha says, getting the Pack’s attention and everyone quiets down.

“I’m afraid I must report some unsettling news. Our scouts have seen signs of Shere Khan, the tiger,” Raksha says, looking at Mowgli. His dark eyes widen and the boy gasps.

“N-No…No-it can’t be-..I..I killed him when I was a cub-“ Mowgli insists, standing up. Whispers sound through the Pack.

“It’s true Brother-I spotted the tiger while I was out on scout patrol in the Rocky Plains,” Gray, one of Mowgli’s brothers, argues gently. Mowgli wants to argue but the honesty in Gray Brother’s voice confirms their mother’s words.

“I-I saw him fall into the Red Flower-I saw him!” Mowgli insists, looking out at the rest of the wolf pack as they whisper to each other, unsure of his claim. The boy looks pleadingly up at his mother. She nods and glances to the Pack elders, to Biranyi in particular.

“I believe you Mowgli,” the old wolf says, getting everyone’s attention while also making the boy smile.

“For 6 seasons we’ve known peace and good hunts in the Jungle, we have had no reason to think Shere Khan survived the Red Flower,” Biranyi says. When the old wolf mentions the Red Flower, Mowgli feels a pit in his stomach. While his family, including Baloo and Bagheera, have all tried reassuring the boy over the seasons, Mowgli has always felt guilty since he was the one that brought the fire to the Jungle in the first place.

“You chose to be with us just like your mother chose you all those seasons ago,” Bagheera’s voice rings in his head.

“We must send out a hunting party to track down Shere Khan and end him once and for all,” Akru, a young male wolf with brown and gray fur announces, getting Mowgli’s attention.

“No-I must end the tiger,” Mowgli speaks up.

“Mowgli-“ Raksha immediately interrupts, feeling her protective mothering take over. Mowgli looks at her, watching her ears go back slightly in sadness.

“I…I don’t think that is wise. Let a more experienced wolf-“ Raksha tries to tell her son.

“I fought Shere Khan 6 seasons ago! I have to finish this. He dislikes the rest of you, but he HATES me,” Mowgli interrupts.

“Mowgli I-“ Raksha pleads.

“Mother I know I’ve only been on 2 hunts, but Shere Khan killed Akela because of me-I have to avenge him!” Mowgli insists.

“Enough!” Raksha barks harshly, causing the teenager to flinch before sitting back down and the Pack to go silent. Even Bagheera and Baloo appear startled.

“I am the leader of the Seeonee Wolf Pack. There will be no more of this talk Mowgli, is that understood?” Raksha asks seriously. Mowgli looks like he wants to argue with his mother until he catches sight of Bagheera’s big bright lime green eyes. The boy sees Bagheera shake his head slightly and sighs.

“Understood,” Mowgli replies glumly. Raksha nods and proceeds with asking for volunteers for the hunting party. She only picks the experienced hunters and Mowgli can’t help but feel wronged.

“What is it Brother?” Gray asks, nudging Mowgli lightly with his cold, wet nose. Mowgli looks away and pulls his knees up to his chin.

“Nothing,” he says, clearly upset.

After the assembly, Mowgli manages to sneak away without Raksha knowing, however, the boy’s actions don’t go unnoticed by Bagheera. The panther jumps silently off of the branch he was laying on and follows Mowgli.

The cat keeps the brown skinned boy in his sights at all times. Bagheera watches as Mowgli stops by a tree and breaks off a low-hanging branch. Bagheera watches Mowgli break off all the smaller branches sticking out. Bagheera takes a few steps, revealing his position.

“Mowgli, what are you doing?” Bagheera asks, clearly concerned about his boy.

“You heard Mother, she doesn’t want me to finish my fight with Khan,” Mowgli grumbles as he strips the 4-foot long stick down.

“Mowgli, going against your mother is one thing, but she is also the leader of the Pack. If you do this, she can force you out of the Pack,” Bagheera warns.

“I have to do this Bagheera. For Akela. And for myself…I have to finish what I started and as payback for burning the Jungle,” Mowgli says, referring to stealing the Red Flower.

“I know you feel guilty about burning the Jungle. But you never started anything. You did right by all of us by facing Shere Khan,” Bagheera says, “it’s over.” He says finally.

“Not for me. Bagheera…as hunters, isn’t it our job to make sure our prey does not suffer? Khan would be severely burned and deformed. Is it not my job to put him out of his misery?” Mowgli asks.

At first, Bagheera doesn’t answer and instead, looks away as if gathering his thoughts of what he wants to say.

“Yes Mowgli, you are right. As hunters, it’s our job to make sure we hunt only for food, and to not cause suffering. But Raksha is right in her own way. She has a responsibility to you, both as leader of the Pack and your mother,” Bagheera says, and Mowgli sighs.

“I know Mother loves me and wants to protect me, but I have to do this,” the brown-skinned boy insists. Bagheera looks into the boy’s eyes and eventually nods.

“I understand,” Bagheera says, “but I’m going with you.”

“Bagheera, no-I won’t let you get hurt for me,” Mowgli argues and Bagheera shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, but this is nonnegotiable. I will tell Raksha if you refuse,” Bagheera argues calmly back. Mowgli can’t help but smile.

“Alright. I’ll take all the help I can get,” the boy says and Bagheera nods.

Back in the manvillage Dev and Santi are in their home gathering what they need.

“Thank you for allowing me in the hunting party Father. I’ll finally show you what a great hunter I am and I will make you proud, I promise,” Santi assures his father.

“Santi, I know you’re a great hunter and I’ve always been proud of you. You’ve grown into quite a hunter and I’m getting on in years. I can’t move like I used to and my eyes aren’t what they used to be. That’s why I want you in the hunting party, because I know you will succeed where I will fail,” Dev explains. Santi looks at his father in surprise.

“Father you are still the village’s most accomplished hunter. I still have so much to learn from you,” Santi insists and Dev chuckles and ruffles his son’s hair like how he used to when Santi was a small boy.

“I appreciate that Santi, but you are more capable than you know. I have complete and total trust in you,” Dev tells his son, who nods. If he was being honest, part of Santi is glad his father trusts him so much but another part of Santi is worried that if he fails, he’d disappoint his father.

After gathering his knife, bow and quiver of arrows, Santi joins with his father and the other 3 volunteers around the unlit bonfire. The others are also armed with bows and knives strapped around them. The older men start formulating a plan as Dev pulls out a map of the area and Santi listens intently.

“What is the tiger’s last known sighting?” Dev asks.

“Around the southern jungle, past the swamps and the rocky plains, but that was about 6 years ago,” Rohan, one of the volunteers answers. He was one of the children Dev taught when he was a teenager. Now Rohan is an adult and is expecting his first child with his wife.

“He might return to a familiar area, even after all those years,” Amir, another volunteer says. He and Rohan are close friends having grown up together. Dev nods in agreement.

“The deer have been plentiful there as well,” Dev says, looking to Santi. The boy recently went to the rocky plains and managed to snag an older buck so the village could eat. Santi nods.

“I brought one back the day before yesterday,” Santi confirms.

“We’ll split up to cover the large area. Send a smoke signal if you need help or if you spot the tiger. If there is no signal we should regroup somewhere,” Amir suggests. Dev points to a lake.

“There, we’ll regroup at Elephant Lake,” Dev says and the others nod in agreement. Dev turns to his son rather seriously.

“Signal even if you sprain an ankle, ok?” Dev asks.

“Father-“

“Ok?” Dev repeats more insistently and Santi nods, playfully rolling his eyes and nodding.

“Yes Father,” the teenager answers and Dev nods, hugging his son.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dev says. Santi hugs his father back before joining Rohan and the other 2 hunter volunteers at the bridge that crosses the river that separates the village from the jungle.

The group crosses the bridge and walks together for about a mile until the path stops. It continues a few different ways so this is where the group decides to split up.

“Good hunting,” Dev says.

“Good hunting,” the others repeat before they all take off in different directions.

Santi heads on the southwest trail for about a mile before deciding to go off the dirt path that only travelers and hunters use. Santi runs deeper into the jungle, cautious and alert. His bright, dark eyes scan the area as he runs. Even with the slight breeze, it’s still incredibly hot and Santi starts sweating after about a mile.

Deep in the jungle, Mowgli and Bagheera move swiftly. It won’t be long until Raksha notices Mowgli is gone, considering everyone went back to their den after the assembly.

“Where do we even start looking? Shere Khan could be anywhere,” Mowgli asks as he runs beside Bagheera.

“Gray Brother said he was out scouting the Rocky Plains when he saw Shere Khan. We should start there,” Bagheera tells the boy, who nods and keeps running, climbing up into the trees every now and then.

The two get to the tree line and spot the tall beige grasses of the Rocky Plains.

“Flank left and search,” Bagheera orders quietly and Mowgli nods and the two separate and search.

Back at the dens, Raksha looks around and doesn’t see Mowgli. She sees Gray and Tavi, Mowgli’s siblings, walking together.

“Gray-Tavi!” Raksha calls to her pups. They look at their mother and hurry over.

“Yes Mother?” Tavi asks.

“Where is your brother?” Raksha asks, referring to Mowgli. The two young wolves look around.

“He was here for the howl-“ Gray says, looking around. The end howl happens last at assemblies.

“You know Mowgli. He’s probably off with Bagheera-“ Tavi says. Raksha’s eyes widen and she looks around before realizing her daughter is right. Bagheera is nowhere to be seen either.

“You’re probably right,” Raksha agrees, though a feeling still nags at her. It’s like a pit in her stomach. She knows Mowgli wouldn’t have given up about Shere Khan that easily. Since burning the Jungle and Akela’s death, Mowgli has been plagued with nightmares and guilt that on some days, seem to crush the boy. As his mother, Raksha shares his pain because she cannot stand to see him so upset. Over the years, she’s always assured the boy that even though using the Red Flower was forbidden, he did so with good intentions.

“We can go look for him if you want us to,” Gray offers. At first, Raksha wants to say yes, just to make sure Mowgli is ok, but that’s when she remembers how he seemed at the assembly. The mother wolf realizes she’s being a bit overprotective and sighs.

“No, it’s ok, he should have some time to himself,” Raksha says and the two young wolves nod. As they turn to head back to their dens, Raksha stops them.

“Does…Does Mowgli think I’m smothering him?” Raksha suddenly asks. The two wolves blink and share a look.

“Oh—uh-“ Tavi stutters.

“Tell me the truth pups,” Raksha says. Despite being adults themselves, they will always be her pups.

“Sometimes…but he knows it’s not your fault,” Gray admits.

“Gray-“ Tavi says, nudging her brother with her muzzle.

“What? Mother was going to find out at some point-“ Gray argues. When Raksha gives them a questioning look, Gray sighs and his ears go back slightly.

“Mowgli told us not to say anything,” Gray explains. She nods understandingly.

“It’s harder with Mowgli…he’s different, so I can’t tell when he’s ready to go off on his own,” Raksha says. Mowgli is the only one of her pups that still live with her. While Gray and Tavi have been on multiple hunts, Mowgli’s only been on 2, and has been a chaser both times.

“He knows you love him and that you just want what’s best for him,” Tavi tells her mother. Raksha’s eyes shine and she nods.

“Thank you..both of you. If you go rabbit hunting, be sure to pick up a couple extra for the food reserve,” Raksha instructs and the two nod. As the leader of the Pack, Raksha is in charge of the food supply, making sure it won’t run low unless it’s unavoidable.

“We will,” Gray answers and the siblings walk off towards the small waterfall that provides a source of water for the Pack that’s right by the dens, which is much more convenient than going to Peace Rock.

The wind blows lightly as Santi keeps a slower, steadier pace through the dense jungle. Hearing the different sounds of the jungle keeps Santi alert to everything around him as his eyes scan ahead. The hunting party’s only been separated for a few hours. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Santi knows to look for clues but the jungle is enormous and goes on for thousands of miles. The most logical places would be right across the river since Khan seems to prefer the easier targets of cattle. Being domesticated animals, they are not quick like deer or rabbits and they are all in one place.

Santi climbs over a fallen tree trunk and makes his way deeper into the jungle. Every hour or so, Santi climbs a tree and looks around to check for smoke signals since he’s not near any high ground.

The teenager hears a slight rustling and his hand hovers over the knife strapped across his body. A rabbit races out and disappears into some brush. Getting thirsty, Santi keeps going until he hears the trickle of a small creek. He sees the creek cutting through the trees and approaches. He sticks his hands in the water. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either. He cups some water out and drinks before splashing some water on his face and neck. That’s when he spots it. In the creek bed, Santi spots a paw print in the mud! He gasps and looks at it. It’s big and feline. Canine tracks from dholes or wolves are longer and don’t have claw marks.

Santi remembers his fathers words from one of his first hunting lessons, back when he was a young boy.

“Follow your lead until you can confirm with your own eyes. Just because you spot a set of tracks or a tuft of fur doesn’t mean you’ve spotted your prey,” his father had told him. 10 year old Santi had gotten excited when he found what he thought were tracks of a fox, but were instead of a dhole. He shouldn’t get his hopes up just yet.

It’s been nearly a week of hunting for Shere Khan in the Jungle. Santi has gotten to the rocky plains and no one’s sent up a signal. Which is good…and bad. No one’s hurt or needs help, but no sightings of Shere Khan, yet.

He follows the tracks until they stop. Santi looks around. Bugs buzz and birds chirp. Various rustling from small creatures and even the noise of the breeze makes the stillness seem loud. That’s when he hears a noise. It’s a harsh, painful sounding noise before it dies out as quickly as it came. Santi knows that sound…it’s of a cow dying. Shere Khan!

Santi races in the direction of the noise as fast as he can. The teenager keeps in shape helping his father so he doesn’t tire easily. As Santi runs, he grabs hold of the hilt of his hunting knife. It’s a long hunting knife his father used. Dev gave it to his son for his 13th birthday.

Santi climbs up a rocky outcrop to get a better look. The teenager spots a tree trunk with bloody claw marks carved into the bark and climbs back down. He hurries over to get a better look at the bloody claw marks before turning and spotting a trail of blood that leads to a mauled body of what used to be a cow. It’s covered in claw marks and none of it has been eaten. Santi’s eyes widen. It hasn’t been eaten! It’s a trap!

A vicious roar breaks the quiet of the jungle. The roar sounds like the noise of a demon. Santi glances around nervously and prepares himself. The teenager looks around for any sign of what made the roaring noise. Santi’s hand hovers over the knife hilt, ready for anything.

“Did Shere Khan know to set a trap?” Santi thinks to himself. Unaware to the boy, Shere Khan is watching the teenager’s every move. Despite how much time has gone by, Shere Khan is still in pain. Not nearly as bad as surviving the fall into the fire, but that’s why he’s been eating cattle. He cannot hunt anymore and Man’s cattle are easily killed. His striped fur is all but gone and even patches of his skin are deformed from the Red Flower’s touch. His blind eye is bloody and his good eye can really only see shapes. His sense of smell has returned a little and because of all of the raw skin exposed, his sense of touch is almost always pain.

Santi cautiously moves through the Jungle, unaware his every move is being watched. He doesn’t see any threats nearby, so he decides to start a smoke signal. Green leaves and sticks create more smoke than dry ones, so Santi makes sure to grab some of both.

He finds a flat rock on the ground and two dry sticks about an inch thick each. He piles more of the dry twigs and leaves near him. The boy grabs the two sticks perpendicularly to each other and starts rubbing them together furiously, still being watched by the unseen tiger.

After a few minutes, Santi sees a wispy trail of smoke starting to form from his stick and smiles. Almost there…almost there. Once the smoke is thick enough Santi blows very gently on it to start the ember going. He sees a small glowing orange dot and feeds the ember more dry sticks and leaves to make it grow.

The ember grows into a very small flame so, carefully, Santi adds more dry plant life to the pile. Once the fire has grown a bit bigger (though still rather small in general), Sant starts adding the greener plant life he’s gathered. He puts 2 twigs and a handful of greenish yellow leaves. The fire’s still lit but the smoke gets thicker almost instantly. Accidentally breathing some of the smoke in, Santi coughs slightly before taking off his shirt. He uses the fabric to cover the fire. He moves in and out of the smoke to create clouds of smoke that rise into the air. It should be nice and visible since Santi is near the Rocky Plains and there’s no trees to obscure the smoke.

As Mowgli moves swiftly and quietly through the tall grasses of the plains, he looks in the sky and spots small gray clouds wafting up. Memories of the Red Flower from 6 seasons ago flash through the teenager’s mind. Hoping that it’s not, Mowgli hurries towards the source of the gray clouds. As he moves, Mowgli wonders if Bagheera can see it too, since they split up to cover more area. Hopefully Bagheera’s on his way.

Mowgli manages to sneak his way through the grasses until he gets so close he sees the Red Flower, and the creature making it. Mowgli’s eyes widen in shock. You see, 6 seasons ago, when Mowgli stole the Red Flower from the manvillage, it was night. Only the moon and stars dimly lit the area. Mowgli’s eyes do not work as well as his wolf brethren’s and while he did see the creatures called Man thanks to the glow of the Red Flower, Mowgli didn’t really see any defining features. At the time, the boy just thought they were unlike anything he had ever seen.

But now, in broad daylight, Mowgli sees the haunting similarities between himself and the man creature. The man creature’s fur is shorter and it’s covered in some sort of colorful skin from the back legs going down all the way to cover the back paws. That’s when Mowgli notices a subtle movement in the underbrush. Mowgli immediately thinks of Bagheera, but when he catches the sight of reddish pink flesh, he lets doubt creep in. No, that is not Bagheera.

Without warning, a piercing roar breaks the steady quiet of the Jungle and Shere Khan leaps out at the creature! Mowgli seems almost frozen when he catches sight of the once formidable tiger. Deep down, Mowgli knows that it is Shere Khan, but because of his deformed, almost grotesque appearance, all Mowgli can think of is a monster and fear grips the boy so tightly all he can do is watch.

Mowgli watches the the man creature scream as Khan leaps at him. The tiger’s claws rake across the man’s bare chest and he cries out in pain. Mowgli gasps and his grip on his sharpened stick tightens. Mowgli’s eyes scan the surrounding area and he can’t help but feel down when he doesn’t see any sign of Bagheera. Maybe he’s too far away, Mowgli thinks to himself.

Mowgli watches Shere Khan circle his prey. Mowgli sees the human’s paw come up and cover its bloody chest. The claw marks look deep and blood runs down the creature’s bare chest. Mowgli can’t help but marvel at the similarities between himself and the man creature. Mowgli’s reminded of when Shere Khan managed to scratch his own chest during their fight 6 seasons ago. He was climbing down the dead tree when Khan managed to surprise the boy. He jerked back just fast enough to only get raked by one claw across his upper chest, creating an ‘X’ pattern over an already healed scar from a previous wound.

The human winces and pants, its paw is shaking and Mowgli hopes for Bagheera to show any second now. Seeing Shere Khan move in for the kill, Mowgli shifts his grip on his sharpened stick and winds up to throw it. He takes an almost silent breath before shutting his eyes. He opens them and instantly throws the stick. It pierces the tiger’s flank and he roars in pain. He looks around, though being almost blind, cannot see Mowgli.

“RAAAAUGGHHH!!!!” Mowgli screams, jumping off the branch he was perched on. The teenager collides with the tiger, causing a painful roar and they tumble to the ground. The man creature collapses, blacking out.

Mowgli feels the tiger’s deformed, almost melted skin and winces in disgust before backing away.

“Mowgli!” Mowgli hears a familiar voice call out to him. The boy turns towards the voice and sees Bagheera race towards them. Shere Khan struggles on the ground, unable to get up from the searing pain of being tackled, the permanent pain from the Red Flower and the stick that’s piercing his back left flank. Seeing that the tiger is no threat like this, Bagheera slows to a stop and looks at the injured, deformed tiger. Bagheera’s eyes widen and his ears go back slightly at the sight of the tiger.

“Shere Khan,” Bagheera breathes quietly. He takes in the vivid sight of the tiger and cannot help but admire Khan’s sheer will to live.

Shere Khan swipes wildly at the air in front of him with a roar, unable to tell where Mowgli is.

“You will never be rid of me mancub!!! My hate for you kept my spirit alive and I have waited for the day when I would finally kill you!” Shere Khan snarls angrily. Mowgli carefully moves around in the tiger’s blind spot and yanks out his sharpened stick that was piercing his left flank. Shere Khan roars in pain before whirling around where Mowgli is and swipes viciously. Mowgli jerks backward and falls over, nearly missing the tiger’s claws as they swipe through the air in front of his face. Bagheera prepares to leap but Mowgli stops the panther, shaking his head. Understanding it is Mowgli’s choice to make, Bagheera does as he’s told.

Unaware to anyone, the human stirs and groggily wakes up with blurred vision and a searing pain on his chest. The teenager sees a half naked boy about his age standing in front of him with a sharpened stick that’s bloody. Mowgli attacks the monstrous creature as the injured teenager passes out again.

Mowgli charges forward and jams the sharpened stick into the tiger, screaming as he does it. Shere Khan roars and tries clawing Mowgli before the boy shoves the stick in deeper and the tiger gets weaker and weaker until he stops struggling. The tiger’s breathing is ragged and rough. Mowgli approaches and looks down at the tiger. Mowgli’s dark eyes never stray from Shere Khan’s blind eye and his permanently red, injured eye. The boy watches as Shere Khan’s eyes slowly dim before shutting forever and the tiger’s ragged breathing stops.

Bagheera looks to Mowgli when he sees the boy just staring at the tiger’s lifeless body.

“Are you alright Mowgli?” The panther asks, clearly concerned.

“I…I can’t believe how awful he looked,” Mowgli says. Bagheera nods.

“The Red Flower is merciless to everyone. It’s destructive power is not to be doubted,” Bagheera explains.

At the mention of Man, Mowgli glances over to the creature who looks almost exactly like him.

“Mowgli-we should report Shere Khan’s death to your mother,” Bagheera says, trying to get the boy’s attention, thought it’s not working.

“Bagheera?” Mowgli asks, looking at the large black cat.

“This is what Man looks like?” Mowgli asks him. Truth be told, Mowgli knows the answer, but he needs to hear Bagheera’s answer. Bagheera sighs, but nods.

“Yes Mowgli,” Bagheera admits, knowing what Mowgli was really asking. Mowgli looks at the injuries on the human’s bare chest. 3 long, deep claw marks slash across the Man’s chest.

“We should leave before he wakes up,” Bagheera suggests, though his tone is more insistent.

“The human needs help Bagheera, his wounds look deep,” Mowgli alerts. Bagheera falters slightly.

“Mowgli, contact with Man is forbidden,” Bagheera warns.

“You helped me…why can’t I help him?” Mowgli asks, referring to when the panther found the boy about 16 seasons ago. Not wanting to argue, Bagheera huffs and takes a step, turning.

“You can make choices for yourself…but I will obey the Law,” Bagheera says, disappearing into the Jungle.

“Bagheera—…” Mowgli tries, though he knows Bagheera is already gone. He sighs.

“I have to,” Mowgli says aloud, but more for himself.

Mowgli turns his attention to the human. His chest is bloody and his breathing is shallow and weak.

“Hold on,” Mowgli whispers before running off into the tall grasses of the Rocky Plains. He gets to a sage shrub and rips off a handful of the green plant. Mowgli hurries back. He shoves the sage into his mouth before grabbing the human and hauling the limp body onto his back, draping over his shoulders. The human’s head lolls limply on Mowgli’s left shoulder. He hears the human groan slightly.

Mowgli heads to the only other one who could possibly help him. Baloo.

“Rules were meant to be—well not necessarily broken, but certainly bent. And definitely reinterpreted, don’t ya think?” The sloth bear’s words ring in Mowgli’s mind. The boy prays that Baloo will understand.

Coming in and out of consciousness was disorienting for Santi. He couldn’t tell where he was or what was happening. He could hear grunts of exertion and slight panting with a few huffs. He feels searing pain on his chest.

Santi knows he’s being carried and vaguely thinks he’s been found by someone from the hunting party. His smoke signal…perhaps he was saved by his father, Santi wishes. He feels his one of his feet drag on the ground and a firm grip around one wrist. Feeling lightheaded, Santi shuts his eyes.

Mowgli manages to trek all the way back to Baloo’s cave. Santi feels his feet drag along the ground when he’s conscious and tries to figure out who rescued him. Santi thinks it’s Rohan, but he’s not certain. The injured teenager groans quietly, unable to talk. Mowgli stops outside the entrance, gently setting the injured human down. Mowgli takes the sage out of his mouth before calling out.

“Baloo?! Baloo-are you there?!” Mowgli calls, stepping towards the cave.

“Mowgli? What is it?” Baloo asks, walking out. His eyes widen and the bear stops in his tracks when he sees Mowgli covered in blood. Baloo’s eyes then land on the injured human behind Mowgli.

“Is..is that-?” Baloo stutters.

“A human. Baloo-please, I need to use your cave-“ Mowgli asks.

“Mowgli, I know I said bending the rules is ok, but I’m an honorary Pack member now and I really don’t want to cross your mother,” Baloo says, having known Raksha a good long while now and knows how ferocious she can get.

“Please Baloo, I just need shelter for the human. You don’t even have to help me,” Mowgli pleads. Baloo sighs.

“Please Baloo? I’ll make sure the human doesn’t cause any trouble,” Mowgli insists. Baloo looks at Mowgli and eventually nods.

“Alright. But no one knows of this, do you understand?” Baloo asks seriously.

“Yes and I agree. If Mother finds out about this, she might not forgive me,” Mowgli says and Baloo nods before motioning inside. Mowgli nods and hands Baloo the sage he managed to hang onto.

Mowgli brings the injured man creature inside and sets him down towards the back of Baloo’s cave. The bear hands Mowgli the healing herb and Mowgli nods his thanks.

“I’ll be right back,” Mowgli says, grabbing a thick slab of bark. He runs out holding the sage in one hand and the piece of bark in the other before stopping in the small, slow flowing creek that runs right outside Baloo’s cave.

Mowgli looks around and sees a paw-sized rock and uses it to smash the sage on the piece of bark. He uses the water as moisture to make it easier to mash up. Mowgli has to be careful not to use too much water.

Once the sage is mashed into a green paste, Mowgli nods in approval before hurrying back inside. He sees the human stir and Mowgli starts to gently spread the green paste over the bloody claw marks.

Santi stirs a bit before feeling something cool and slightly soothing on his burning chest. His vision comes in and out of focus, but he sees the person who saved him is definitely not from the hunting party. Fear washes over Santi, though in his injured state, he merely whimpers before blacking out again.

“Mother will be suspicious if I don’t spend nights at home. Baloo I’ll need to leave the human here at night until he’s healed,” Mowgli explains.

“Mowgli I don’t feel comfortable around…them…” Baloo says, eyeing the human suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to do a thing,” Mowgli assures the bear.

“What if the human rubs off the sage? I cannot put the healing paste on,” Baloo says.

“Good point. Oh-hold on,” Mowgli says, hurrying over to the honey stash. Now that they are older, Bagheera doesn’t look down on Baloo having his honey stash. Hunting is no longer something to look forward to, but a chore. Laying in the sun is much more satisfying nowadays according to the panther.

Mowgli grabs a strong vine he weaved that’s also small enough to wrap around paws. He takes it and wraps the human’s front paws together behind its back. Mowgli makes sure the vine is tight and secure before looking up through the hole in the top of Baloo’s cave. Mowgli sees the sun setting and realizes he has to head back home.

About a day and a half passes before Santi finally wakes up and stays awake. While his chest does ache from soreness, it is no longer the same searing, burning pain that was more unbearable. The teenager realizes his hands are tied behind him rather quickly and starts struggling to get free, though it’s not working. He looks and sees the wounds on his chest are covered with a green paste and wonders what it is.

“Rohan? Amir?…Father?” Santi asks aloud, wondering who it is that saved him. Santi wonders why his hands are tied together. The teen looks around and is surprised to see he’s in a cave. To the left of him is a pile of honeycomb that oozes out onto the floor. Santi also spots vines coiled up and a bunch of grass and leaves scattered around for what looks like a sleeping area.

He wants to move but his chest aches and Santi looks at the green paste covering the injured area. That’s when Santi hears footsteps approaching. The teenager shifts as much as he can without his chest hurting too much. Santi feels around and grabs a palm-sized flat stone and wraps his fingers around it to hide just in case.

Santi’s eyes glance over to the entrance, spotting a figure approaching him. His vision focuses and adjusts to make out the details of the figure before freezing in shock. It’s a kid! Well, a teenager, around Santi’s age. But he’s wearing nothing but a faded red loincloth. Santi feels his breathing start to increase out of fear.

“Wh-Who are you?” Santi rasps out. The teenager’s bright dark eyes bore into Santi.

“I’m Santi…did you save me?” Santi tells the unfamiliar teenager. The long-haired teen nods, pointing at Santi’s chest.

“Heal you,” the wild boy tells Santi, “no touch.” Santi nods.

“Thank you,” Santi tells his mysterious savior.

“What’s your name?” Santi asks again but frowns when the other boy appears confused.

“Your name…what are you called?” Santi tries rephrasing.

“M-Mo…Mow-gleeeee…Mowgli,” the boy introduces, sounding out his name. Mowgli points at Santi.

“San-teeeee….Santi,” Mowgli repeats and Santi smiles and nods weakly.

“Yeah-I’m Santi…are you…are you from the village?” Santi asks. Mowgli shakes his head.

Santi remembers where he is and looks around.

“Is this…your home?” Santi asks. Mowgli didn’t seem to understand the question, so Santi motions around to the cave before pointing at Mowgli.

“Your home?” Santi asks again.

“Yes…no…cave is Baloo…I come here, but not home,” Mowgli explains as best he can with his limited knowledge.

When Mowgli was 13, he had learned from Baloo that humans have their own language and had assumed Mowgli knew it as well, being a human. Baloo didn’t know a lot about Man, only what he’d heard through rumors from Bagheera, Akela and Kaa. Chil the kite bird also shared stories of times he’s seen humans.

Baloo knew from past experience that lying to Mowgli was a lot worse than telling him the truth, even if the boy didn’t want to hear it. So any time Mowgli would ask about humans or the Manvillage, Baloo would try and be as truthful as he could, though Mowgli understands that he doesn’t know EVERYTHING.

It’s thanks to the old sloth bear that Mowgli had the courage to start trying to learn Man’s language. Mowgli didn’t want Bagheera to know. The very first thing Baloo taught him is that moving a head up and down means yes and side to side means no.

“Is…is it..dead?” Santi asks. Mowgli snaps out of his thoughts and remembers stabbing the tiger with his sharpened stick. Mowgli nods.

“I kill Shere Khan,” Mowgli says. Santi looks away. Mowgli sees a familiar feeling on Santi’s face. It’s a feeling of…disappointment. Mowgli was familiar with it, mostly when he was younger.

“Why face?” Mowgli asks, pointing to his face. Santi looks at Mowgli.

“My father…he will be disappointed in me. I couldn’t stand a chance against…Sh-Shere Khan,” Santi says, using the name Mowgli used. Mowgli smiles with realization. As he learned the language of Man, humans could learn the language of the wolf. They just had to be taught.

“Father,” Mowgli repeats. Santi nods before wincing in pain slightly. Mowgli notices and frowns. He approaches Santi slowly before gently reaching out and inspecting the wound. It’s not as red as it was and the bleeding stopped, though the claw marks are deep.

“Where did you learn healing?” Santi asks.

“Bagheera,” Mowgli states.

“What’s Bagheera?” Santi asks.

“Panther. Panther smart, told me healing,” Mowgli explains. Santi’s eyes widen. A panther?

“A…panther?” Santi asks.

“What about your mother and father?” Santi asks. Mowgli frowns in confusion.

“You know…Baloo. Isn’t that your father?” Santi asks. Mowgli chuckles and now Santi frowns in confusion.

“Baloo. Papa bear. Best friend. Baloo is best friend,” Mowgli explains.

“Do you have a father or a mother?” Santi asks. It would explain a lot about Mowgli, why he’s almost naked, talks about animals, and why his speech is broken. Mowgli seems to recognize the last word and he nods vigorously.

“Mother! Mother is strong and brave and kind,” Mowgli says. Santi awes at Mowgli’s explanation and, if truth be told, Santi was a bit jealous. He’d always wondered what it was like to have a mother. His father, Dev, would talk about Santi’s mother, Dev’s wife, whenever Santi would ask, but he’d never talk about her willingly to Santi. And even when the boy would ask his father, he could tell how sad his father would get from reliving past memories, so he eventually stopped asking so his father wouldn’t get upset thinking about her.

But thinking about his father makes Santi realize that his father is strong, brave and kind. In a way…Dev has been Santi’s father and his mother.

“And your father?” Santi asks. He watches Mowgli’s face fall.

“Killed…by Shere Khan,” Mowgli answers solemnly. Santi’s jealousy evaporates instantly and is replaced with empathy.

“My mother was killed…but I have my father,” Santi tells Mowgli, understanding the pain of losing a parent.

“Do you think you could…untie me?” Santi asks, moving his arms from behind his back. His wrists are still tied together with the vines Mowgli weaved together. Mowgli eyes Santi suspiciously.

“No touch healing paste,” Mowgli warns and Santi nods.

“I won’t,” he promises Mowgli. Santi watches Mowgli nod slightly before moving to get behind him. Mowgli unties Santi and the injured teen sighs with relief.

“Thanks,” Santi tells Mowgli.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the Jungle…

Dev makes his way towards the Swamp. It’s a bit out of the way from the last known area the tiger was spotted, but Dev thought he should check anyways. That is, until he looked up and saw a wispy trail of smoke! Dev’s eyes widen and he races in the direction he saw the pale gray smoke. He hopes it’s a tiger sighting rather than a call for help and he wishes it wasn’t his son either way.

If he was being honest with himself, Dev hadn’t been real present with Santi when the boy was younger. It was when Santi was around 10 that Dev realized how independent Santi had become and had shown an interest in hunting. Dev knew that he should bond with his son for multiple reasons but a big reason is to make up for lost time. He knew he was supposed to provide for Santi, but after the death of his wife, he misplaced his anger onto his son, which wasn’t fair to the boy. But after all these years, Santi is now almost a grown man and Dev doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Santi. Santi is all Dev has left.

After hiking a good 10 miles, Dev finds himself at the source of the smoke. He sees a small pile of green leaves that have blackened edges and tips. He looks around and doesn’t see anyone.

“Rohan? Amir? Ishan? Santi?” Dev asks, calling out each name, “is anyone there?!” Dev asks. He looks around and that’s when he spots the footprint in the ground. He sees it’s a bit smaller than a grown adult’s. Santi, Dev thinks.

Dev looks around and spots a patch of grass that’s been crushed. He sees a couple broken twigs sticking out from a nearby bush and his eyes widen. There’s been a struggle. Dev scans the surrounding area and finds a few drops of blood and gasps. Dev spots a footprint Santi’s size before he goes about 20 feet to the left to look around. That’s when he spots the stick. It’s pointing up awkwardly and Dev pushes past the bushes and walks around the trees until he spots the monster on the ground. Nothing but limp flesh, Dev feels his stomach churn at the sight of the creature that’s no longer the formidable tiger it used to be. Dev spots the blind eye of Shere Khan which is the only reason Dev is able to identify the tiger. Small patches of Khan’s pelt are still visible but mostly around his nose, eyes and ears. Dev understands why the young woman, Messua, thought it was a monster killing our cattle. In his current state, Shere Khan likely couldn’t hunt anything else as cattle are slow, easy pray, even for a creature as injured as he was. Dev sees the bloody stick poking out of Khan.

Dev’s happy the tiger is dead and out of his misery, but Dev’s also worried about his son, wondering if he’s alright. That’s all he wants, really. Dev continues, trying to follow the trail.

“DEV!” Dev hears his name being called as he makes his way through the dense Seeonee Jungle. Dev’s eyes widen and he feels a bit of relief when he recognizes the voice.

“Amir!? AMIR!” Dev looks around before spotting the bearded man approaching.

“Dev! I’m glad you are unharmed. Who sent the smoke signal?” Amir asks before his eyes spot the body of Shere Khan. His eyes widen and has a similar reaction as Dev did.

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” Dev suggests and motions away and Dev agrees quickly.

“I’m not sure who started the signal,” Dev says, clearly worried.

“Hey-Santi’s a great hunter. He even outshoots me a few times. I’m sure he’s ok,” Amir tries assuring Dev. Growing up, Amir, Rohan and Ishan have all looked up to Dev so they see Dev as an older brother figure. Dev nods.

“Hey if anything I’m sure it’s Ishan. You know how he always leaps before he looks,” Amir tries, earning a dry chuckle from Dev.

“C’mon, I think the others should be nearby. Let’s split up and look for them,” Amir suggests and Dev nods.

“Right, meet back here,” Dev says and Amir nods and the two split up.

It didn’t take long for Dev to find Rohan and for Amir to find Ishan, so they were able to meet back up fairly quickly.

“I didn’t start the signal,” Rohan says and Dev looks to Ishan.

“Neither did I,” Ishan adds.

“Then…it was Santi,” Dev says. No one says anything, but now that Dev knows it was Santi who started the smoke signal, Dev realizes that Santi crossed paths with Shere Khan.

Amir breaks the news about the tiger to Rohan and Ishan and even shows them the scarred, deformed body. The men gather around away from the lifeless body.

“Shere Khan is dead, that must mean that Santi sent the smoke signal because he spotted the tiger,” Rohan suggests.

“If it was for sighting Khan, where is Santi? He could’ve been hurt after engaging with the tiger. An animal like that is unpredictable,” Dev asks.

“That’s true. Why hasn’t Santi appeared unless he-“ Ishan begins, but that’s when Amir nudges his side roughly. Ishan groans and sends a look to Amir, who glares back at his friend.

“Let’s focus on finding Santi before we worry about anything else,” Rohan suggests logically. Dev nods in agreement. Finding Santi should be priority.

Back in Baloo’s cave, Santi has managed to sit up and Mowgli has given him a water filled fruit shell he made when he was 10. The only time Mowgli used it was when they went to Peace Rock for water. Santi takes a refreshing drink before looking at Mowgli. Santi sets the shell down.

“You’re not from the village, are you?” Santi asks, wiping his mouth nonchalantly. Mowgli shakes his head.

“Mother is leader of Seeonee Wolf Pack,” Mowgli explains. Santi looks at Mowgli.

“Your mother…is a wolf?” Santi asks. Mowgli howls.

“I am Mowgli of the Seeonee,” Mowgli states. The pieces start to connect in Santi’s mind and he realizes that Mowgli is a feral child, raised by wolves.

A million questions race by in Santi’s mind that he wants to ask Mowgli.

“Am I the first human you’ve seen?” Santi settles on a question.

“No..I saw before…6 seasons ago,” Mowgli explains, though Santi notices Mowgli is starting to look uncomfortable.

“Are you ok?” Santi asks.

“I…I saw them…the humans…when I took the Red Flower-“ Mowgli says. Santi’s eyes widen in realization. All those years ago. The shadowy figure Santi saw on the bridge. He’d seen the figure take the torch but didn’t think anything of it as the torches are there to use. It wasn’t until the alarm for the huge jungle fire that started did Santi put two and two together. By then, he was already too scared to say anything. Adding in that the fire was put out rather quickly, no one really thought anything of it.

“You took the fire?“ Santi asks and Mowgli nods sadly.

“Santi!” Mowgli suddenly hears a voice yell in the distance and Santi sees the feral teen tense up.

“You…I hear your name,” Mowgli alerts. Santi’s eyes widen.

“The hunters-“ Santi replies automatically. Mowgli flinches at the word ‘hunters’, knowing what that means.

“No-No-it’s ok. My father is one of them. I…am one of them,” Santi explains and Mowgli takes a step back, gasping quietly.

“But we only hunt if we have to—only to eat and so we’re not killed. That’s what my father taught me and that’s what he’s taught the others,” Santi explains and Mowgli settles slightly.

“Not…for sport?” Mowgli asks and Santi shakes his head.

“My father and I have never hunted for sport,” Santi assures Mowgli.

Mowgli looks and sees the sincerity in Santi’s eyes. The stories he’s heard would be on the contrary, but Mowgli knows better than anyone that you should judge someone by their heart and their actions rather than what they are and their prejudices.

“Hunt to eat,” Mowgli says and Santi nods.

“Santi!!!” The voice yells, getting a bit louder since he’s getting closer. The voice is loud enough that Santi recognizes it as his father’s voice! Mowgli looks to Santi.

“We will meet again, Santi,” Mowgli says and climbs out the skylight hole.

“Mowgli wait!” Santi calls out, but the other teenager is already gone. Santi gets to his feet and walks out.

“Father?! FATHER!” Santi calls out.

“SANTI!! DON’T MOVE!! WE’RE COMING!” Dev calls back as Santi steps out of the cave’s entrance. He sees a beautiful small flowing creek covered with purple flowers right in front of the cave.

Santi hears rustling nearby get louder and louder so he turns and that’s when his father breaks through the plant life, followed by the other volunteer hunters.

“Santi!” Dev exclaims, rushing forward, wrapping his son in a hug, despite Santi’s grunts of pain. While he is mostly healed and the claw marks have scabbed, Santi’s chest is still a bit sore and tender.

“Father-“ Santi pleads and the tone of his son’s voice causes Dev to back off. He looks and sees Santi’s bare chest is covered in a green paste that smeared onto his own clothes.

“Y-You’re hurt-“ Dev realizes.

“I’m ok Father-really,” Santi assures his father.

“Did you…kill the tiger?” Dev asks. Santi doesn’t answer at first. The fear of telling the truth causes Santi to look away.

“No…I’m sorry Father. Shere Khan caught me off guard,” Santi says.

“Do not be sorry my son. I’m just glad you’re alive,” Dev tells him.

“Khan…was dead when we found him,” Amir pipes up, motioning to the other hunters.

“Who did this?” Dev asks Santi, motioning to the green paste covering his bare chest.

“I was saved by a boy my age. He was the one that killed Shere Khan,” Santi explains.

“A boy? Who? You are the eldest male child of the village and the 2nd eldest is only 10,” Rohan asks.

“Santi can tell us later, but right now, we need to get you help,” Dev argues, letting his son use him for stability. Santi leans heavily on his father, not because he’s too weak, but because the boy missed his father. Sant was worried he’d never see his father again.

Rohan helps Dev with Santi while Amir and Ishan keep ready just in case anything happens. While his father and the others didn’t get a good look at the cave, Santi manages a glance behind himself.

Meanwhile, Mowgli manages to make it back to the Wolf Pack territory and back to the dens. Mowgli goes over the whole interaction with the human, including killing Shere Khan. Even remembering what the tiger looked like was unnerving for Mowgli so he doesn’t dwell on that particular moment.

He remembers seeing Santi on the ground, bloody and unconscious and Mowgli remembers feeling a need to protect. Honestly Mowgli still can’t really explain it, but he felt that way about any living creature in need. Akela told him once that he was special because of his selflessness. That is what makes a wolf, Akela had said.

“Mowgli-there you are,” the boy hears Bagheera’s silky voice. He looks and sees the panther up in a nearby tree.

“Bagheera…I…I was with the human-“ Mowgli tells the panther, not wanting to lie or keep things hidden. Bagheera nods.

“I figured,” he replies understandingly.

“He..wasn’t like some of the stories I’ve heard…and they’re not scary looking in the day,” Mowgli says and Bagheera nods.

“This particular human…” Mowgli trails off, stopping in his tracks. Bagheera stops and looks back at the boy. Noticing Mowgli isn’t making eye contact, Bagheera turns, focusing on him.

“What is it Mowgli?” Bagheera asks.

“You said I’m human, right Bagheera?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera nods.

“Yes,”

“Could there be other humans…like me?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera thinks on Mowgli’s question.

“Mowgli, you are uniquely you. You may be a human, but there are no humans like you,” Bagheera explains.

“But, if there was…do you think Ami would like him?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera’s eyes widen.

“Mowgli your mother is firm on the Laws of the Jungle. You deserve to know who you are so I will not mention your activities to your mother or anyone in the pack. But you cannot get caught,” Bagheera says. Mowgli nods.

“Thank you Bagheera,” Mowgli tells him, knowing Bagheera doesn’t have to keep his secrets. The panther nods.

“Of course,” he says before motioning with his head for the boy to follow.

“Come, it’s getting late,” Bagheera says and together, they walk back to the dens, where the Wolf Pack live.

Dev and the hunting party manage to hike all the way back and once they cross the bridge, others from the village hurry over to help.

“Messua, get the bandages,” Dev says and the young woman nods, hurrying off.

Dev takes Santi with Amir’s help and gets back to the small house tucked in the corner of the village. Dev sets Santi down on the bed gently and helps the boy lay back.

“Does it hurt son?” Dev asks.

“Sore…but it’s not too bad,” Santi says. Dev knows his son has a high tolerance for pain so for Santi to admit anything must be a lot for him. Dev nods.

“Ok, don’t worry son,” Dev tries comforting Santi. Santi nods and shuts his eyes. Messua comes in a few moments later holding a few different items.

“Thank you Messua,” Dev says as she gets to work.

“Of course Dev, he’ll be ok, your boy is strong,” Messua says as she starts wiping off the green paste on Santi’s chest.

“No-don’t-“ Santi tries, but Messua gently holds his hand down.

“I’m sorry I have to wipe your chest off,” she says and at the insistence of his father, Santi lets Messua work.

As Messua works, Dev’s able to see just how badly Santi got hurt and the boy can’t miss the worry plastered all over his father’s face.

“Father-it’s just a bit sore-I’m ok,” Santi says. Messua wraps Santi’s chest with bandage cloth.

“Sage..a great medicinal plant. I didn’t figure you two as herbalists,” Messua tells Santi and Dev.

“I’m not-“ Dev shakes his head.

“It was Mowgli, Father,” Santi says.

“Who is Mowgli?” Messua asks.

“He’s a boy my age. He lives in the Jungle and he was the one that helped me when Shere Khan caught me off guard,” Santi explains.

“Hm, well sounds like a smart kid,” Messua says.

Once Messua finishes with Santi, Dev gifts her a small basket of fruits and vegetables Dev recently harvested from his garden.

“Thank you Dev, but you really don’t have to-“ Messua tries, but Dev holds up a hand to stop her.

“I know, I want to,” Dev insists and Messua smiles before nodding.

“Thank you for getting rid of Shere Khan,” Messua says and Dev nods. The father and son duo head outside and meet up with the other volunteer hunters and Santi tells them everything that happened. Santi spends the next week or so resting and healing, but he can’t get that mysterious wild boy named Mowgli out of his head.

Back at the Wolf Pack dens, Mowgli and Bagheera head over towards Raksha and her den.

“Mowgli, where were you?” Raksha asks. Mowgli looks to Bagheera before looking at his mother.

“I was at Baloo’s,” Mowgli answers. While he isn’t exactly lying, he isn’t telling Raksha everything either.

While both boys think about their chance encounter, it isn’t until Santi has fully recovered, albeit with claw scars raked across his chest, that he goes to seek out Mowgli. While it was quite a trek to get there, Santi could remember what the cave looked like.

The two met up by chance and managed to stay in contact with each other, eventually becoming friends. The days turned to weeks, which turned into months. Mowgli could have never imagined himself friends with a human. Being leader has distracted Raksha enough that she nor anyone else in the Pack has figured out Mowgli sees a human rather regularly.

The boys had initially bonded over the loss of a parental figure, but they also learned they are rather different from each other. Mowgli would tell Santi stories about the Pack and his animal family while Santi would tell Mowgli about village life and what it’s like to be a human.

Bagheera and Baloo may have initially been skeptical, but now, after having seen how much happier Mowgli has been since meeting his human friend Santi, the pair of animals would much rather Mowgli break a Law than be miserable forever. Seeing Mowgli relate to a human but also choose to come back and live his life with his family has made both Baloo and Bagheera realize that Mowgli is exactly who he needs to be.

End.

#jungle book #the junglebook #the jungle book #fanfic #fanfiction #a chance encounter #first request #writing request #oc fanfic request #jungle book 2016 #jungle book oc fanfic #thank you so much for being patient with me

[isrighthand]

Dear Izzy,

I get the feeling I should point out that this isn’t Lucius (Lucious? I don’t know how he spells his name. That’s a hard one) writing this, even though that seems like the most logical assumption. He is the writing guy, after all.

I’m not really known on the ship as the writing guy. I don’t think people pay me a lot of attention, which is why I’m still making these anonymous. I think if you knew who this was, you’d laugh, or throw it in my face or something. You don’t seem like the kind of guy who wants everyone knowing his business, knowing the kind of things that make him smile, knowing he practices sword fighting out on the deck any time the moon is full, and everyone is asleep…

I hope you don’t blame me for being nervous. I don’t know how accepted these things are, and this very well may just be making you angry. Maybe you can leave me a note, or a sign, if you want more of these?

I’ve left a white ribbon on this envelope. Just tie it somewhere noticeable if I can keep writing to you. If I don’t see it anywhere, I’ll stop and we’ll forget this whole thing.

I just want to let you know, your eyes look like starlight when you smile.

-Your Secret Admirer

Israel's heart stutters as he comes back into his room to find another letter waiting. This time, he does not rush through it. He closes his door, locks it behind him, and sits down to read.

Not Lucius. Just about everyone had seen him corner the scribe, so the fact that his admirer had noticed doesn't help much. It seems as though the more he reads, the less he knows. It could be anyone at this point who has a fucking clue.

If it weren't for the last sentence, he might have collapsed back onto his bed with a defeated sigh, but as it is, his eyes get caught there.

It's far easier to imagine someone sitting in a room below deck, laughing with other members of the crew as they write this, adding that line and hollering, snickering, imagining Dizzy Izzy being moved by such a thing, preparing to make fun of him as soon as they seem him put the ribbon out. He doesn't want to put the ribbon out. (He wants as many of these letters as he can have. He is a pirate, after all, and he is no more immune to greed than any other man.)

This is torture, Izzy decides, and he does finally collapse back onto his cot to stare up at the ceiling.

He knows himself well enough that he knows he'll talk himself into circles if he thinks about it too much. He simply has to do it, or not. He rereads the letter a few times before he goes to bed, and ends up tucking it right next to other. If he gets more, he is going to soon have to find a new place to keep them. And he is planning on getting more.

He wakes before the sun, as always, and he's left the ribbon sitting on his bedside for when he wakes. Both the letters get tucked into his vest. He picks up the ribbon.

He can't think about it. He can't not think about it. At worst, he thinks, this is a joke, and the crew will snicker and laugh. He doesn't have any respect left to lose.

He fastens his cravat around his throat, tucking his ring carefully into place.

The ribbon stands out, white against black, tied around his cravat. It is a thin little thing, but it shines almost as much as the silver of his ring. He had considered tying it around his wrist, but he's distracted by his admirer more than enough already - if it were tied around his wrist, he'd surely lose himself to daydreaming all day, and there is work to be done.

As he leaves his room, he sends a last little hope out into the world, that this ribbon doesn't turn out to be a noose.

#this is so fun #10/10 idea anon #izzy is having a Time #ic.

[erenisms]

chapter 19

WHAT WE CAN BE : in which eren deals with his crush on you like an elementary school kid and you’re having none of it.

eren likes you. a lot. but he treats your existence like it's god's punishment to humanity. and you, not having any idea why he loathes your presence so much, decided to not give a single fuck about him.

pairing: eren jaeger x f!reader, +slight!reiner x reader

genre: college au, e2l, fluff, crack

CH. 19: little help. (fully written)

masterlist. | prev. | next.

Green eyes glare at the blank screen of the poor phone. Eren scrunches his nose as he lays on the couch, head hanging over the armrest with his untied hair mopping the floor. He opens the group chat with your friend and his and rereads the earlier messages. What a shitty day. Coincidentally, both his best and worst days have something to do with you and he almost wants to believe Armin when he called him an emotionally constipated simp.

His phone pings, and it’s you who texts him. Pathetically Funnily enough, he feels a sense of pride when you did.

Eren doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, but he doesn’t care because it feels right to go after you. Mikasa called him a dumb psychopath once. And maybe he is. So, after getting in the car in his pyjamas and impulsively spending 60 dollars for a full tank, he speeds to the other city and ignores seven out of eleven red lights. He stopped on a few of them so he hopes you’re proud. You asked for help and obviously, he’s going to give it, give you, his all.

But when he pulls up in the driveway of the house you’re supposed to be in, the universe decided to mess with him. He sees you with that oversized, muscular blonde by the entrance who seem to always stare dreamily at you– he can’t blame him because he’s probably the same– except Reiner doesn’t even pretend to be subtle and keeps acting like a goddamn bodyguard, everything sinks in.

What am I doing?

“We’ve been friends for so long. It wouldn't hurt to take a step further, right?”

“Listen, Reiner, I like you, too–”

Eren’s eyes widen. He takes a painful swallow and bites his lip in frustration. Suddenly, he feels so betrayed for some reason, and the dumb urge to bang his head on the wheel surfaces. So, he did just that to wake himself up, not noticing the loud sounds that came along with it.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Eren thinks this is all pointless, but when he sees you ditch Reiner in the dark as you run towards him, he feels a little bit of comfort at the fact that you chose him anyway. Even if it’s just for this.

ღ

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

The drive is, without a doubt, awkward. You’re almost always quiet, and you’re used to the other person starting the conversation so this, this feels weird.

“So, uh,” Eren clears his throat and asks like a divorced father to a son that he only sees on weekends, “how was the party?”

“Okay, I guess. It wasn’t so bad…?” You reply, uncertain.

“Why did you even go if you knew you were going to be uncomfortable?” He frowns.

Is that what you’ve been feeling? They were your friends. But that’s it, isn’t it? They were your friends.

“Uncomfortable, huh…?” You echo thoughtfully. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, you kind of never do.” He scoffs. “You don’t even know what you’re feeling?”

“No.” You look out the window almost shamefully. “Not really.”

Eren bites his lower lip, feeling bad that he questioned your actions when he had no right to. You, on the other hand, feel bad because you can’t even explain yourself properly when he put all this effort for you.

“You know, you didn’t have to go with me, right?” Eren purses his lips. “You and Reiner–”

“Oh no,” Your eyes shot up in alarm and embarrassment. “Please don’t bring that up.”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation. Don’t worry I only heard the beginning, I didn’t listen to the rest so… you know…”

“Don’t tell anyone…! I don’t want anyone to think otherwise, he’s like family to me!”

“Ye–” Eren’s entire being takes a pause. “A what?”

“I know!” You slap your thighs with your hands and rant. “He’s a year older and he’s all protective and stuff, but he’s never been forward. How am I supposed not to think of him as a brother!? It’s not like I haven’t noticed that yeah, maybe he might have liked me but I just don’t like him! Romantically, at least. I told him that but he still insisted, unbelievable…!”

“Huh?” Green eyes stare owlishly at you.

Eren connects the dots. He shakes his head, hitting his forehead at the steering wheel without honking this time. Damn, I’m an idiot. The pouting grimace and adorable frown on your face aren’t helping. He starts to chuckle, and then those chuckles turn into an all-out laugh. He would have thrown his head back if it wasn’t for the back that he’s driving again and had to keep his sight on the road.

You narrow your eyes at him without any ill intent. “What’s funny?”

He snorts, giving you a boyish grin sideways. “Your voice sounds different when you say more than two sentences. Plus, you don’t look alike.”

You shrink in your seat and grumble. “I’d be offended if you say we do.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs with the same grin. He takes a deep breath and he wishes he doesn’t sound so hopeful. “You don’t like Reiner?”

“No.” You sigh, rubbing your face. “I really don’t.”

“Who do you like then?” He asks, voice teasing.

“Marco.”

Eren snorts. Nothing in your tone suggests you're serious when you answered his last query. He feels light, significantly lighter than before and he doesn’t know why. He stops at another red light and looks at you.

”McDonald’s?” He asks with a childish tone, the bright yellow sign of the fast-food chain glows in the distance.

You blink at him, taking out your hand out of your pockets holding out your palm. You no longer feel uncomfortable or awkward.

“I have eight dollars left.”

“And I have twelve.”

“I want a happy meal.”

“Same.”

ღ

i am alive... HI, m sorry it's been a week lol

dw though, ive written three chapters while ia n they only need editing and some revisions :)

plus, new eren fic coming out later ig

taglist: closed — @lamiapony @sofijaeger @hvneyluvr @kjd55 @tumerixs @songbirdgardensworld @freedomlsaburden @itsannayalll @jelliou @lagrimasdeglitter @erens-eyebrows @chewymoustachio @ayyisasra @tzobio @diestheticu @ravensleepyeyes @y2klove @mikasavqx @mockingjaytributes @littlemochi @mariaerdgzn @philfont @fwess @teenageangeldiaries @backstagepaige @renjunvibes @shunkaza @je-suis-argent-miel @lavender-moon13 @the-princess-button @kaitlyn2907 @blrqt @xaibs @rory-cakes @bubs-world @pennylanewrites @usernamehere91 @reinertiddiejuice @tjjjrsj @oprantodomar @persyhange @ilovemydinoboi @jellyfishpalace @justanotherkpopstanlol @tatiquichi @newestro @dumbabyspeaks @anonymossii @yeagerfushiguro @r-xochitl @airservylunalol @viaree @fell-4-u @laeuleo & more in the comments + if your un is in purple, i cant tag you

- love, zari

#zari.wwcb #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #snk x reader #attack on titan smau #aot smau #x reader #smau

[koushou]

i love it smmmm omg. the megumi fix is amazing it’s more than i asked for ❤️❤️ bro 6,9k is a blessing you don’t understand how glad it made me it’s so worth the wait. tumblr is so dry when it comes to anime fics and especially w megumi thank you for feeding me something other than the crumbs this website gives me. i don’t want to be too annoying but whenever you’re free if you could do a pt 2 cause that ending omg. i love it sm and i can’t thank you enough ❤️

pairing : megumi x f!reader [fluff]

warnings : slight makeout scene idk HAHA nothing too intense though (also not proofread because i wanted to get this posted as soon as i finished it)

wc : 3.5k

a/n : ur too sweet omg and im FINALLY back from procrastinating your request again anon… (i really apologize i don’t mean to take so long pls forgive me D: ) i hope this is what you wanted!!

pt. 1 (you don’t really have to read pt 1 to understand this part but i do recommend it)

loud chatter echoes through the large modern dining hall located on the second floor of the hotel.

“i’m… so full…” a certain pink haired male burps for the nth time as he still continues to stuff food into his mouth. gojo laughs at itadori’s passion for the hotel food, while doing the same as he takes a large bite of a pancake.

you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and leaning back in your cushioned chair, already finished with your 3rd plate of breakfast. i mean, who could blame you? hotel breakfast food just hits a different type of way.

“so, spill all the juicy events that happened last night, i wanna know!” nobara nudges you excitedly, her eyes twinkling as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

rolling your eyes, you look away from the ginger female and pretend to not have heard her. accidentally, you were now faced towards megumi, sitting on the opposite side of you. your eyes met for a brief moment before you quickly turned away, breaking the awkward interaction.

“aww— c’mon, y/n! please—“

“nothing happened at all! and don’t think i forgot the way you ignored my knocks on your door yesterday,” you shot her a glare, earning a sheepish laugh in return.

“but... in the same bed..?”

you were about to retort back when gojo stands up and claps his hand over his stomach, which now seemed just… a few sizes bigger.

“alright! have we all finished our food? god, when did hotel food get so good— anyway, it’s time to pack our things and head back home!” your constantly enthusiastic teacher exclaims, as a waiter comes to collect your plates.

after thanking the waiter and paying the bill (poor gojo-sensei’s wallet), you all head back upstairs to drive back home.

a thick silence hangs over your room as you and megumi collect your items, not wanting to bring up any events from last night. finally ready to head out, you walk towards the door to open it until another hand reaches the handle at the same time.

you retract your hand quickly, while the other hand lingers in the air above the knob.

“oh— sorry, you can go first!” you gulp, backing up a bit so megumi can exit first.

he pauses for a second, twisting the knob until the door pulls open. you expected him to walk out, but he makes his way to the other side of you instead, still holding the door open.

you look over at him with a questioning look, receiving a slight shrug and a hint of a smirk.

“ladies first.”

why was his stupid face so handsome?

you shook your head at his teasing expression, making your way out the door to the carpeted hallway, him following close behind.

the others were already at the lobby waiting, their conversation becoming clearer as you reach them.

“what’s taking them both so long? you don’t think they’re too busy… y’know…” nobara’s usual cheerful voice carries her words to your ears, making you roll your eyes and spook her from being.

“boo.”

“i’m just sayin- oh my go—“ she frantically turns around, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just you.

“you scared me!”

“what were we talking about?”

“nothing important! come on, we should get going!” nobara nudges gojo and itadori ahead, escaping you as she scurries out of the lobby.

you hear a yawn from behind you, a tuft of black hair moving past you as you suppress the urge to laugh at megumi’s already messy hairstyle, amplified by his morning bed hair.

finally, you were all seated back in gojo’s car, ready to drive back to the school so you all can head back to your own homes.

the ride back was full of gojo’s irritating voice singing along to songs playing from the car radio, itadori laughing along, and the rest of you too excited to leave the car.

“alright kids! we’re here, make sure to be safe on the way back home!”

gojo waves to all of you as you hop out of his car one by one, basking in the cool summer air for a few seconds.

“see you guys!”

itadori jogs away, heading in the direction of his own home, followed by megumi, then nobara, and lastly, you.

upon reaching your house, your mother welcomes you, asking about your day, if you had fun, and other typical mother questions.

you were telling her about your day when you suddenly recalled the hotel night events, and scurried away embarrassed upstairs to your room, leaving a very confused mom behind.

you flop down onto the bed, face down, wanting to get a good few minutes of quiet nap time in before your phone dings with a notification.

grunting, you pull your phone out from your pocket, swiping across the screen to check the message.

surprisingly, it was from megumi, eyebrows suspiciously raising as you open the text message from him. you two rarely texted unless it was about school or business-related, so you couldn’t think of anything he would need from you right now.

megumi : Hey.

megumi : I have your hair tie with me. You probably left it in my bag or something.

megumi : I’m coming over in 5 minutes.

you sat up abruptly, rereading his messages to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

you had been so caught up with his prior messages that you failed to register that he said he was going to be at your house in… 5 minutes.

hurriedly, you swiped to see what time he had sent that last message. 12:34 AM.

your eyes moved to the top of your phone screen, reading the current time. 12:37 AM.

almost falling out of bed scrambling to your room mirror, you checked your appearance to make sure you looked fine and your hair wasn’t messy and-

you paused.

“why am i so concerned about how i look? why do i care about this?”

you slapped your face with both hands, bringing yourself back to reality when you were interrupted again, but this time by your doorbell ringing from downstairs.

making your way out of your room, you saw that your mom had already opened the door with a familiar tall figure standing in the doorway.

“oh! megumi, it’s been a while!” your mom lets megumi in with a smile, already going to the kitchen to make him some tea.

he bows politely, sitting down on the couch, now changed into a loose white t-shirt with black shorts.

“uh- theres no need to make me tea, i won’t be here for too long—“

“nonsense! you can even stay for lunch, dear megumi! i just have to prepare the last dish and—“

you finally clear your throat, standing at the middle of the stairs, catching both of their attention.

“oh, y/n! i have to go out to the grocery store for some ingredients, take care of our guest megumi, alright?” she places two cups of tea on the table in front of megumi, grabbing her keys to head out.

“wait, mom—“

she sends you a wink by the door, already outside before you can finish your sentence.

you sigh in defeat, sitting across from megumi on the other couch.

“here.”

megumi pulls out a black hair tie from his pocket, almost identical to the one currently around your wrist.

you raise your eyebrows in suspicion at the hair tie. “but i only have one? and i didn’t bring any extra yesterday..?” you motion to your own arm.

he looks back and forth between your wrist and the one he had in his hand, scratching his head in confusion.

“it was in our hotel room, so i assumed it was yours.” he shrugs, placing it on the table. “but if it isn’t, i can just throw it away.”

you hum, taking a sip of the tea your mom prepared as he does the same, cringing as the still hot tea burns his tongue.

“pfft…”

he glares at you, placing the cup down as his eyes scan around your living room, taking in the decorations.

“i’ll just keep it then, it seems new.” you take the forgotten hair tie on the table, and wear it around your wrist, now decorated with two black hair ties.

he nods, sitting back against the couch, silence falling between you both.

a question suddenly popped up in your mind, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“you came all the way here… just to give me a hair tie?”

the question seems to set him a little nervous, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact as he fidgets in his seat.

“well— i figured i’d return it to you before i forgot,” he shrugs, reaching out to take another sip of his tea before pulling back quickly again at the heat.

you nod slowly, still unconvinced with his answer. who goes all the way to someone’s house to return a hair tie?

“okay then, see you on monday?” you get up, ready to send him back off.

his head snaps up, still not moving in his seat as he opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure of how to respond.

“um- i thought your mom said i could stay…for lunch…?”

he averts his eyes, pink dusting his pale cheeks as he looks away. your mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape as you recall your mom’s words and those were - in fact what she had said.

it wasn’t that you were against him staying for lunch, but you two weren’t even friends or remotely close at that. rivals would even suit you both better than friends.

“but if you want i can, uh, leave now,” he starts to stand, looking uncomfortable in his position across from you.

it was then that you remembered megumi’s background, that his mother had left early at birth, plus his father wasn’t exactly present.

you couldn’t imagine living without your parents, and how lonely he must be without true family.

“no! i mean, that’s not what i meant, you can stay.” you sputter out before he gets the wrong idea.

his eyes seem to light up at your words, nodding before sitting back down on his previous spot on the couch.

you glance over at the time on your phone, it had been around 7 minutes after your mom had left.

the tension was thick in the room, and just when you thought you were about to explode from the awkwardness, he finally breaks the silence.

“do you… play that?”

you turn to where his eyes are placed on, seeing your black xbox console laying on top of a cabinet, having been untouched for a while.

“oh that? yeah, occasionally, why?”

you hear a snicker from beside you, snapping your head to find his lips curled into a teasing grin.

“oh, i just didn’t think a nerd like you would play games.”

you raise your eyebrows at his words. “you sure about that? it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at games either, megumi.” you make sure to stretch out each three syllables of his name to tease him further.

he huffs while leaning back, still maintaining intense eye contact with you, almost challenging each other to say something back.

“how about this, whoever wins against the other gets to make them do whatever they want. no matter what it is.” he nods over to the console, tilting his head as he waits for your response.

you chuckle, standing up to take the console, fiddling with it for a moment before turning back to him.

“alright, just don’t cry when you lose too much, okay?”

he shrugs, smirking as he looks around the living room for the other console, making you remember something.

“oh, the other console plus a TV is in my room, wanna just play there?”

he stiffens suddenly, before nodding slowly and following you upstairs to your room.

reaching the door, you suddenly stop, making megumi grunt and come to a stop, almost crashing into you.

“uh - wait here.”

you open the door just enough to slip inside, quickly gathering some of your belongings and cleaning as much as you could, to at least make your room seem presentable.

“okay!” you open the door for megumi, who makes no move to enter at first.

“...”

“you can come in.”

“... is this okay?”

you cock your head, not understanding his question.

“your mom isn’t home.”

“...so?”

“we’re alone.”

“and?”

“i’m… going into your room.”

“what is your point?” you began to grow frustrated at this conversation. then, it hit you all of a sudden.

“ahh, megumi? have you never been in a girl’s room alone before?” you snicker, shaking your head from laughter.

he starts to protest, before quickly closing his mouth and finally entering your room.

you connect the two consoles into your TV in your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you load up the games on the screen.

“you can sit here if you want,” you pat the empty spot next to you, to which he carefully sits down on, taking one console from your hand.

“ready?”

he nods, as you start the game.

-- --

“what--?!”

you throw your hands up in frustration, groaning as you flop backwards on the bed.

“i told you, you can’t beat me.” megumi chuckles, dodging a stuffed bear you threw in his direction.

you huffed, sitting back up, determined to beat him at least once.

“one last rematch!”

he lets out a laugh, a rare one that you think you might just never forget, and starts the game again.

after a few minutes of intense clicking, yelling and laughing, you let out a proud shout, the word victory flashing across your screen.

you pick up another stuffed animal from your bed and toss it straight at megumi’s face, celebrating as he lets out an ‘oof’ and glare back at you.

“but i still won around, 7 times, so i get to make you do something- oof-” he stumbles back again from another stuffed animal to the face.

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about--” you pretend to not have heard him before your vision goes momentarily black from a soft object hitting your face, a pink bear landing in your lap.

“hey!”

“what, you keep throwing them at me!”

“fine…”

“hey, why are you getting so close--!”

you tackle megumi backwards onto the bed, throwing your pillows at his face -- not very gently -- as he tries to shield his arms in vain.

“ahh—! okay, okay, i’m sorry, stop it—“ he huffs as you finally stops your attack, his dark blue orbs looking up into yours.

you only now noticed your close proximity, quickly sitting back up to create some distance between the both of you. he clears his throat, fiddling with one of your pillows.

“well, a loss is a loss, what do i have to do?” you sigh, admitting your defeat.

“hmm…” he seems to be lost in deep thought, probably trying to find the worst thing he can make you do.

after a few silent, intense seconds, he finally speaks.

“are you… free tomorrow?”

you turn to him, giving him a questioning look at his strange question. he only stares back at you in response, awaiting your answer.

“um… yeah, i’m free the whole day, why do you as-“

“come watch a movie with me tomorrow.” he blurts out quickly, not even letting you finish your sentence.

you gape at him, still processing his words, unsure if you had heard wrong.

“... sorry?”

his face was reddenning by the second, yet his eyes remained firmly on yours the whole time.

“let’s go watch the new movie in the theater. i heard it’s quite popular already despite releasing only last week.”

“oh… okay, i can ask nobara if she wants to com-“

“don’t!” he says a little too loudly, clearing his throat after as he regains his composure.

“i mean, i- just, you.”

“just.. us?”

he nods.

silence fell again between the two of you, unsure if he was asking you what you thought he was asking you. you decide to test the waters cautiously.

“man.. it’s almost like you’re asking me out on a date, megumi?” you tease lightly, expecting a ‘tch’ or an, ‘as if’.

“so what if i am?”

now that was an answer you weren’t expecting.

“you’re.. joking, right?”

megumi sighs, moving closer until his body was mere centimeters away from yours.

“i’m serious.”

“do you... like me or something?”

he stares at you blankly. “would i ask you on a date if i didn’t have feelings for you, idiot?”

you only just realize how stupid your question sounded, trying to find a response until he reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand.

they felt soft, yet slightly gruff from constant training and fighting, large enough to cover one half of your face. they were warm, slightly trembling probably from nervousness, yet made you wish he’d never take it off.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. we can forget this ever happened.” his own cheeks turning slightly pink, yours probably even worse as the space between your faces closed in slowly.

“but i don't think i can do this anymore, so just let me be a little selfish this once, okay?”

barely registering his words before he moves in to kiss you, soft lips moving against the other as his hand tightens against the side of your cheek. you barely register your own actions anymore, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair, moving down to his neck, and finally finding home cupped around his face.

he groans against your lips, pressing you down until he was now hovering above you, never breaking the kiss even once in the process. you lost track of how long you both had been making out in your bed before you hear the front door open from downstairs.

frantically, the both of you separated in fear of your mom catching you in the act, catching your breaths while still processing what just happened.

you hear shuffling from downstairs, standing up to escape megumi before you were pulled back into a warm chest.

“wait—“ his arms wrap around you to trap you from leaving his grasp, your eyes looking everywhere but his, and suddenly your wall was the most interesting thing in sight.

“are we… really going to pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally gather the courage to look him in the face, almost melting at the soft pout set on his (now slightly redder than before) lips.

“ilikeyoutoo.” you get out quickly before you lose the chance to say it again.

he stiffens against you, eyes lighting up almost like an excited puppy receiving treats. “you like me? i didn’t hear you, so can you say it again?”

you huff, trying to wriggle your way out of his arms, only resulting in him pulling you closer to sit on his lap. he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling at your futile attempt to escape.

“i said— i like you—!” you ram your head into his, making him groan in pain, loosening his hold on you. the perfect chance for escape.

you saw the opportunity, dashing to the door, twisting the knob, almost getting it open until—

“nope,” megumi’s hand stops the door in time, instead twisting you around until your back was now flat against the wood, both of his palms placed beside your head.

“y/n? megumi?” your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but all you could hear was your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“megumi! move, my mom’s home,” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away to no avail.

he grabs your pushing hand and places it on the left side of his chest, letting you feel the soft but fast thumping of his heart, almost matching the pace of your own.

“this is all your fault. you’re not gonna take responsibility for it?” he inches closer to your burning face, making you huff and grab his face.

you press your lips to his, feeling him immediately return the kiss, but you pull away after a few seconds, leaving him still trying to kiss you again.

“nope, my mom’s home, and i’m hungry.”

you open the door, seeing your mom begin to set the table with plates of food downstairs. you look back at megumi, who still looked sad after getting his kiss cut short.

sighing, you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together before pulling him down the stairs.

“come on, it’s time for lunch. you’ll get more later.”

you feel him perk up, giving your hand a squeeze as he follows close behind.

you steal a glance at your wrist, still wearing both the hair ties. good thing he hadn’t noticed you stuffing one into his bag this morning.

#megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro oneshot #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi

[cacoetheswriting]

a saturday ritual

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: mild swearing, a single parent home, mentions of death (death of a parent & a significant other), mentions of alcohol consumption, and a lil pining, but mainly just FLUFF Word Count: 5.6k Request: anonymous: “I love your Spencer Reid fics! I was wondering if you could write something with Spencer and a single mom reader?? Thanks”

A/N: a very brief summary: spencer is infatuated by his new neighbour, a single mom to a five year old boy who likes to wreak havoc in their shared corridor. also, this one turned out to be a lot A LOT longer than i initially thought it would be but honestly i had so much fun writing this fic, it really could have gone on foreverrrrr ENJOY and as always let me know what you think ! 

-

For about a week after you moved into the apartment across from his, Spencer wondered what would be an acceptable excuse to go introduce himself.

Having been away on a case those first couple of days, he missed the initial opportunity. Later, his colleagues told him that was enough of a justification. Much later. Too late. Now the moment has passed, and he wondered whether pretending he needed salt or sugar was a good enough pretext. Lame.

He's caught glimpses of you out in the shared hall returning from the grocery store, or by the post box downstairs collecting your mail. Glimpses. Passing fleeting seconds. Never enough time to say hello, however enough to notice you were really beautiful.

Also enough to notice the little boy constantly tugging at your clothes. From what he could see, the resemblance was uncanny. The boy was your son no doubt. And given that Spencer hasn’t seen another adult around, he came to a conclusion you were a single mom.

It was now Saturday morning. Saturday. A day he usually spent grading papers and preparing class materials for the week ahead. And this weekend began no differently.

With a cup of coffee, he sat at his desk and began working away when an odd droning sound caught his attention. Buzzing. Yet it wasn’t mechanical, no. The peculiar hum echoing outside seemed more manmade. Childlike.

Yes, the brunette doctor deducted, the buzzing sounds he was currently hearing were most definitely airplane noises made by a kid.

At first, he decided to pay no attention to what was going on outside his door. He felt bad enough for not going to introduce himself, so he wasn't about to become the mean man from across the hall who gave out about playing children.

After taking a sip of his coffee, he proceeded to bury his head in the papers scattered across his desk. The sound wasn’t too loud meaning it wasn't a big distraction. He could continue to get his work done despite the clatter.

It was then he heard your voice for the first time. The melodic tone drew him in even more than the buzzing echo. 

Dropping his pen, he instantly got to his feet and ambled towards the front door - now was his chance. 

His hand hovered over the knob, but before he got a chance to do anything, he heard a slam. The noises stopped. Silence once again filled the hall outside.

The hazel-eyed doctor felt slightly foolish. He didn't really know what he wanted to accomplish by springing up so fast. Even if he managed to catch you, what was he going to say? I heard your voice, and wanted to see you. Stupid. You would think he's absolutely clinically insane. I heard you out here, and wanted to finally introduce myself. Better. Although still a little weird.

With a sigh, he sunk back in his seat and continued with his usual Saturday routine. Hoping he would get another chance.

Sunday he heard the buzzing again. Only this time he was walking up the stairs, returning from a late afternoon stroll. 

Once he reached his floor he came face to face with the source of the airplane noises currently echoing throughout the building.

Spencer thought the young boy couldn't be more than five. He was wearing a jumper that was clearly too big on him. Probably one of yours, Spencer thought. Arms spread out by his side, the oversized garment covering his hands in full, the kid ran circles up and down the corridor. A wide grin on his face. The hoodie dragging on the floor collecting dustballs.

Mixed with the noises was the sound of your laughter, coming from inside your apartment. The honey-like harmony was like music to Spencer's ears. A small smile crept up on his features; what the hell was going on with him? How could he possibly feel an attraction to someone he’s never met, held a conversation with.

The boy stopped abruptly when he noticed Spencer. His arms fell, and he ran into your apartment. Vanished as if he’d seen a ghost. Although, he must have been waiting, looking out for when the coast was clear again, because as soon as Spencer closed his own door the buzzing resumed.

It continued on for hours.

Having spent time with JJ’s boys, Spencer was no stranger to the amount of energy little kids possessed. Often when playing he would be the one to grow tired first. He would be the one that needed a break while they continued to wreak havoc. Therefore the noises didn't bother him. He went about his evening, subconsciously listening out for your voice.

The next few days were quiet.

Not like he spent a lot of time at home anyway. Between his classes and his unpredictable work hours with the FBI, he only went back to his apartment to sleep. And that was usually really late at night.

Thursday evening, after a surprisingly short day, he was fumbling through his bag in search for his key when the sudden urge to go and finally say hello came over him. He knocked on your door and instantly heard shuffling inside. There was no turning back now.

Soon you were standing in front of him. Subtly, he looked you up and down. His grip on the strap of his bag tightening. Wow, you were even more beautiful than the glimpses he caught. 

That came off rather stalker-ish, he took a mental note.

“Hello. Can I help you?” You asked while leaning against the frame, one hand holding the door so not let the brunette stranger see inside.

“Hi, I’m Spencer. I live across the hall.” He introduced himself, examining your face for any sort of reaction. Completely blank. “Can I help you?” You repeated. The brunette doctor was slightly taken aback by your cold shoulder. He pursed his lips into a thin smile. “No. I just wanted to introduce myself and say that if you needed anything-” “Thanks.” You cut him off and closed the door in his face.

Spencer took a step back. That definitely didn’t go as he thought it would. He rationalised your behaviour as a response to his tardiness with regards to greeting you and your son in the building. Although he still couldn’t believe you were so, for lack of a better word, bitchy.

Glancing one last time at your door, he unlocked his own and stepped inside. At least now he could say he tried introducing himself. He tried being the friendly neighbour.

Saturday arrived once again in the blink of an eye. This particular morning, the hazel-eyed doctor had an abundance of papers to grade. He made himself comfortable and got to work.

Unlike last week, when the airplane noises didn't bother him, today he found them to be quite irritating. He would reread the same sentences at least twice before he even began to understand them. Not ideal.

Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his already messy curls and let out a deep sigh. He really needed to concentrate, but he also didn't want to be a dick about it. Possibly making the already tense situation even worse.

Quickly, and rather impulsively, he gathered his things. He put on his shoes, threw his bag over his shoulder, and walked out into the hall.

This time the little boy was sitting on the floor in the middle of the corridor. In his hands he gripped two toy planes, flying them around in the air. The boy looked up at Spencer and smiled, but continued to play. Spencer smiled back while locking his door, and proceeded to make his way down the stairs.

Yes. He felt good about his decision to work somewhere else for the day.

That evening, as he was about to reheat some leftovers, there was a knock on the door. It was faint. So faint in fact he wasn't sure if he heard it at first. For a split second he hesitated, his attention now focused solely on the door. Another knock. Louder this time. He hurried over and opened it to greet the mysterious guest.

You.

Dressed in an oversized band t-shirt, one Spencer didn't recognise, and a pair of biker shorts - all covered in spatters of colourful paint. Your hair was up in a bun with loose strands escaping by your face. Spencer also noticed a yellow paint smudge on your left cheek, and white speckles on your forehead. Despite the dishevelled attire, you looked considerably more relaxed than the day he went to introduce himself.

“I guess I should start off by apologising.” You began in that melodic tone he first heard last week. “When you came by, I was really rude. I'm not usually like that, I swear. It’s just I have a lot on my plate right now. Benny’s grandparents, from his dad’s side, are giving me grief for moving so far away from them. Even though it’s only an extra twenty minute drive. But you know, they are Benny’s grandparents and I love them. They’re family. Anyway, minutes before you knocked I was on the phone with them, again about the same thing, and the conversation put me in a foul mood. Which really isn’t an excuse for the way I acted towards you so, yeah, inexcusable. I’m sorry.”

The hazel-eyed doctor couldn't help but lightly smirk. He’s never met anyone that rambled nearly as much as him. He’s learned more about you in the last ten seconds than he did the whole time you lived across from him.

“Okay. Okay, you’re smiling. That’s a good sign, right?” You brought your hands to your face, gently pressing your fingertips to the corners of your mouth as if to cover the embarrassment you were no doubtly feeling right now. “Because I did actually come here to invite you over for pizza. A truly lame attempt to try show you that I am in fact a good person and not that bitch you met.”

“I love pizza.” Spencer simply stated causing a sigh of relief to escape your lips.

“Great. That’s great.” A warm expression graced your facial features. “Oh, I’m Y/N by the way.” You were about to reach out your hand when you noticed the colourful paint covering your fingers. “Mom life.” You joked, cheeks flushing a soft pink, and let your arms fell back down to your side.

You patiently waited for Spencer to grab his keys and phone before making your way across the hall.

Your apartment was slightly larger than his, two bedrooms, and the decor also couldn’t have been more different to his own. Colourful, vibrant, homey. Those would be the words he’d use to describe what he was witnessing.

In the middle of the living space stood a dark green couch. Draped over it were numerous blankets, hiding underneath them were mismatched throw pillows. On the coffee table lay a stack of books, surrounded by children’s toys. The wall behind the television was decorated from corner to corner with various sized frames. Inside those frames were different movie posters, photos, random prints, and what he speculated was some of Benny’s artwork.

He was in awe as to how fast you managed to make this place feel like your own.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna quickly wash my hands to try get this pesky paint off, and then we can order food.” With that you disappeared leaving Spencer alone to examine the rest of your place.

His attention was caught by a not so white bedsheet, opposite end of the living space. It was covered in paint. On top of the sheet, stood an old pickle jar that was filled with water. It held numerous brushes. Next to it was a plastic box with tubes of acrylic paint with every colour a person could possibly dream of.

Spencer took a couple of steps towards the bedsheet. He didn't want to seem nosey, he just wanted to get a better look at the currently drying canvases. A distinct pitter of small feet caused him to stand up straight, frozen, as if he was caught doing something illegal.

“A-are, are you the pizza guy?” Benny asked curiously, tilting his little head to one side.

“No uhm, I’m Spencer. I live across the hall.” He explained. “Your mom invited me.” That felt like an important thing to add.

Benny sized him up. His eyes narrowed, lips pursed into a serious pout, nose scrunched. He crossed his little arms as if he was daring Spencer. It was rather silly, this five year old trying to intimidate a grown man, and yet the brunette doctor began to feel nervous. He didn't understand why. He was usually really good with kids.

“Benny, bunny, quit trying to scare our guest.” You returned, grabbing your sons attention and breaking the odd charade. Benny’s gaze traveled to you. “Go do a little clean up of your toys please. I saw those planes your pops bought you in the bathtub. That’s not their place, is it?” Benny shook his head and ran off with a loud chuckle.

You glanced at Spencer and shot him a kind smile.

“Sorry about that. He gets the whole intimidation thing after his dad.” “That’s okay.” Spencer replied. You could tell he was being nice, just like he could tell Benny’s dad was a touchy subject. Spencer wasn’t about to make it worse. It wasn’t his place. And you didn't know him well enough yet to spill the secrets of your past relationship. Therefore, the two of you stood completely still for an awkward second just looking at one another.

“Would you like anything to drink?” You asked, breaking the silence. “We have orange juice, water, or mom juice.” “Mom juice?” Spencer raised an intrigued brow. “Wine.” You explained giggling. Spencer nodded his head with a smile. “I’ll have some mom juice then.” “Good choice.”

As he sat down on the couch, you receded into the kitchen, returning shortly with two plastic cups in hand. “I forgot to ask which you’d prefer, red or white, so I brought a glass of each. Whatever you won’t have, I’ll drink.” You reached out your hands. Spencer took the cup with red wine, his fingers brushing gently against yours in the process. Spark. No, he thought. He was imagining things.

Unknown to the brunette doctor, you felt it too. The blood rushed to your face for a split second as you nervously cleared your throat before taking a sip of your wine.

“You have to forgive the plastic cups. One of Benny’s latest favourite activities is pretending to be an airplane and breaking everything in sight, so I locked all my nicer glassware away.” You explained while elegantly plopping down next to Spencer. “Plastic cups are nice. It’s like a picnic.” God, how dumb. He mentally smacked himself. Idiot.

However, your light giggle indicated you didn’t seem to mind. Your eyes widened a little, and he could have sworn they were glistening. “Well thank you Spencer. You’re the first person to say something nice rather than commenting on my parenting style.”

It was the first time you said his name out loud. And in that melodic tone of yours, it echoed inside his brain like a song. Leaving a permanent mark.

“My mom thinks I need to discipline him more, but no-one ever said it would be this hard alone.” You babbled on, completely oblivious to the silent commotion currently going on inside Spencer’s mind. “Benny’s dad was the bad cop per se, I’m no good at it. My son can cause all the trouble in the world, and still all it would take is for him to look up at me with those bunny eyes and all is good again. Probably because he has his dad’s eyes...” You stopped yourself, and chewed down on your bottom lip.

“Sorry.” You fluttered your lashes at the man sitting next to you. “I’ve been told I talk too much.”

Spencer brought the cup to the brim of his mouth and chuckled. “Don’t be. I’ve been told the exact same thing.” He took a sip of his wine.

“I find that hard to believe. You’ve barely squeezed in four full sentences these last fifteen minutes, while I just go on and on and on.”

“Give it time. I guarantee you’ll be sick of me by the end of the night, and I will never get invited over for pizza again.”

Without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand on his forearm. The air hitched in Spencer’s throat as his eyes briefly traveled down to where you were gently grasping. “Consider this your weekly invite.” You said in a silvery tone and proceeded to give his arm a gentle squeeze.

Just like that, Spencer’s Saturday routine was richer by one more item. Perhaps the most important item on the list. Pizza at the apartment across from his.

Truthfully, it was his favourite time of the week. 

During those weekly visits, Spencer quickly learned a lot about you. Where you grew up, any likes and dislikes, hobbies, facts about your family. He learned that you used to teach art at a high school; a job you loved but ultimately decided to leave after you became a single parent. Now, you work at an art gallery only a few blocks from here.

Spencer evened out the scale by sharing his own stories and fables. You were quite surprised to hear about the numerous doctorates he possessed, the work he did, some of the shit he went through, and honestly just how smart he actually was.

Each time you met, you each discovered something new about one another. Something that made you seem even more interesting in the other persons eyes. 

Although, an unspoken agreement was in place, the topic of Benny’s dad was off limits. For now.

When Benny got comfortable having Spencer around, the weekly pizza routine evolved into other activities involving you and your son. Movie nights. Walks to the park. Playground visits. Home-cooked dinners at yours. Puzzle afternoons at his. Spencer taught Benny and you magic tricks, while you taught Spencer how to paint.

Soon enough you were exchanging keys and before either of you even realised, six months passed.

Spencer spent Saturday morning preparing class materials for the week ahead, as usual. Through the thin walls he could hear unmistakable airplane noises and patter of feet running up and down the corridor. He smiled to himself. The echo was a pleasant reminder it was only a few hours until he would see you for pizza.

See during these last few months, Spencer fell head over heels for you. He fell hard. The ever present smile on circling your already perfect features when he was around, your honey-like laughter, your lavender scent, the way you were with Benny, the way you always watched the hazel-eyed doctor with such great interest whenever he broke out into an obscure fact.

The more time he spent with you, the more his love grew.

Spencer knew that he could never act on it. If he was a selfish man perhaps, but he wasn’t. He would never put his own needs ahead of your friendship as it wasn’t just you and him in this scenario. He had to consider Benny. What if the relationship went south and he was just another man to break both of your hearts? No. He’d never act on his feelings. There was way too much at stake.

Though he still considered himself lucky. Having a place in your life, being your friend. That’s lucky.

“Right on time as always.” You beamed as Spencer stumbled inside, closing your apartment door behind him. He ambled towards the coach and sat in his now usual spot - the left corner, with you in the right.

“Where’s Benny?” He asked, looking around for the little monster. “Benny is tucked away in his bed. He kindly requested a slice of pizza to be brought to him once it arrives so it’s really just you and me tonight. Hope that’s still okay with you.” “I mean, yeah, I guess that’s fine.” Spencer teased, shrugging his shoulders.

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't say anything else on the matter. Odd, the brunette doctor thought. You always had a witty comeback. It was one of the many things he loved about you.

“I’m sure you could tell me how many pizza nights we had exactly, so I took the liberty of ordering our food already.” You said with a small smile.

“Thirty-two pizza nights.” Spencer stated simply. You furrowed your brows. “That doesn't right.” “Taking into account every Saturday we spent together, plus pizza on your birthday, Memorial Day, and the other few evenings we didn't feel like cooking, it adds up to thirty-two.”

“Holy shit. Maybe we should start ordering salads.” Spencer chuckled at your response. “Pizza is a lot better.” He pointed out and you couldn't argue with that logic.

Food arrived shortly after. You briskly took two slices over to Benny on a plastic plate, checking up on him in the process. While you were gone Spencer chose a movie. One that you would both equally enjoy.

You sat down again, only this time you sat beside him in what is usually Benny’s spot. Shoulder to shoulder. Spencer froze completely. Thinking if he’d move even an inch, it would scare you off and you’d shift away. You reached for a blanket and draped it over the two of you before glancing up at the hazel-eyed doctor.

“Is this okay?” Contrary to the usual melodic tone of your voice, the question came out quite croaky. Nervous. He met your gaze, losing himself completely in the colour of your eyes, and slowly nodded his head.

He’s thought about kissing you before and always managed to fight the urge. Although, in all the time the two of you spent together he was never situated this close to you. Your face was a mere few inches away from his. Oh fuck. 

The moment lasted only about half a second, but to Spencer it felt like time stood still. Honestly, if you hadn’t turned away to start the movie, he probably would have lost the inner battle. He wouldn't have been able to hold himself back. He would have kissed you. Maybe he was a selfish man after all.

Swallowing the growing lump in his throat, Spencer also turned his attention to the tv. Without breaking your eyes from the screen ahead, you handed him a slice of pizza which he took gratefully. The two of you ate in silence. Enjoying the movie, but mainly each other’s presence.

The brunette man couldn't place the exact moment you cuddled yourself up to him. One minute he peeked to ask you a question about something that now seemed unimportant and you were just there, your head resting against his chest.

A smile circled his lips. He could definitely get used to this.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m completely lost.” You mumbled. “And that says a lot considering I’ve seen this movie before. I didn’t understand it then, I still don’t understand it now.”

“If you've seen this before, why did you let me choose it?” Spencer asked. You tilted to look up at him. “Because I thought you’d be able to explain it to me. You know, using that big genius brain of yours.”

Spencer chuckled. He lifted his hand and began to gently caress the top of your head. “What if I tell you my theory and it ruins the movie for you?” He asked, but you waved your hand dismissing his question. “What if you tell me and it improves the movie?”

“That’s a fair point I guess. Okay.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair as he began to explain. “The movie seems confusing because it’s actually reverse order storytelling. It kind of works its way from the end to the beginning through a series of flashbacks and flash-forwards. Therefore, as you’re watching, you get a view into Lenny’s diminishing state of mind.”

You raised a brow. “Are you sure you haven't seen ‘Memento’ before?”

He raised his hands palms up. “I swear this is my first time.” He pledged, corners of his mouth twisting into a smile. “Hmm...” “I’m just extremely observant. Plus you know I love puzzles, and this movie is like one giant puzzle.” He continued. 

“Let’s pretend I believe you Spencer.” You said squinting at him, before turning back to look at the tv. The brunette man smirked under his breath. His hand once again tangling itself in your hair.

The sound of a delicate tiptoe approaching the living room caused you to sit up and reach for the remote. Although to Spencer’s surprise you didn't move away from him. Instead, you leaned your body into his side so that if you wanted, you could place your head back on his shoulder.

“Mommy.” Benny muttered. With a little hoist from you, he scrambled into your lap. “Mommy.” “What’s up bunny? Mommy was just finishing a movie, and then I would have come check on you.”

Benny shook his head. He gripped onto the collar of your t-shirt with one hand, the other travelled to your face. He pushed himself into you, angling your head so that he could whisper something in your ear.

Spencer watched as the smile on your face widened at whatever it was Benny said. The young boy pulled away, and waited for your response. “I don’t know kiddo. Would you like me to ask him?” Benny nodded, also now grinning.

“Spencer?” You turned to address the brunette man. “What is your opinion on pillow forts?” He saw the sparkle in your eyes and he couldn't help but smile. “I love pillow forts.”

Within the hour, the living space was completely transformed into a squashy soft kingdom. Benny joyfully screamed that this was the best pillow fort ever as he crawled inside, teddybear in hand.

You nudged Spencer’s arm before staring up at him. “Thank you.” Your eyes locked as your hand slid into his with ease. Fingers instantly intertwining together like magnets. 

“We haven't done this since his dad passed. I’ve suggested it many many times, but he uhm, Benny never wanted to.” Pause. The expression on your face dulled. Mouth quivering as you spoke. “Ehm, his dad was a pilot hence my little guys obsession with planes. He died really suddenly nineteen months ago. Benny was so so small. And I don’t really know how much he remembers of his dad, I mean I tell him stories all the time and so do his grandparents, it’s just hard to tell sometimes if uhm... Pillow forts were like their thing, so after his dad I think they were too painful for Benny.”

Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You were both now standing toe to toe, facing each other fully.

“I guess Benny just needed to feel ready again. Happy even. So what I’m trying to say is, Spencer, thank you. Truly. Thank you for brining joy back into his life.” You hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Thank you for brining joy back into both of our lives.” 

It meant a lot to Spencer that you finally felt comfortable enough to share more details about Benny’s dad. He never wanted to replace the man, he wouldn't dream of it. All he really wanted since the day he met you was to make you a little bit happier, and to hear he was succeeding warmed his heart.

You immediately noticed how his face lit up ever so slightly. A miniature smile circled your lips. “I just hope we didn't obscure your life too much these last few months.”

Using his free hand, he placed the loose strands of your hair behind your ear. Gently caressing your cheek with his thumb in the process. “Are you kidding? There is nothing I would rather be doing. I love spending time with you guys.”

Your eyes sparked with admiration.

“I love our pizza nights, overanalysing different movies with you, listening to Benny’s rendition of ‘In Summer’ from ‘Frozen’. Heck, I love that I now know what ‘Frozen’ is.” You chuckled as he carried on. “I love painting with you, and how you tell me I’ve gotten a lot better at it even though we both know that’s not true. I love that you get a long with my friends. I love that I can take you and Benny over to JJ’s for playdates. Surprisingly, I love playdates. I love how you let me read to Benny when you’re cooking. I love that he loves when I read to him. And of course I love your cooking.”

Tears formed in your eyes, blurring your vision. Tears of happiness. Tears of joy. The man standing in front of you was saying all of the right things, and he didn't even know it. Or maybe he did. You couldn't really tell. The intense emotions circling through your mind right now made it hard to think.

Spencer continued. Now that he started, he couldn't stop. He wanted you to know all of these things. He wanted you to know how he felt. 

“I love when we go grocery shopping all together, and how you give out to me for my bad diet habits. I love how that always makes Benny laugh. I love how you framed a photo of the three of us and hung it up on your wall, don’t think I didn't notice. I love building lego sets with Benny. I love how the two of you call me when I’m away on a case to make sure I’m okay and tell me about your day. I love the sound of your voice. I love... I love Benny.”

He paused for a split second.

“And I especially love you.”

Tiny salty droplets trailed down your cheeks as you fluttered your lashes. “You love me?” You asked quietly. Spencer nodded his head. “I do. I’m in love with you Y/N.”

You didn't say anything. 

Spencer thought he was done for when you let go of his hand. He thought he ruined it. His nose twitched. His stomach dropped. He was about to apologise, say that if you didn't feel the same way it was definitely more than okay. He just wanted you in his life. But he didn't get a chance too.

Instead, your hand was now holding his face. Your lips attached themselves to his in one breath. He instantly noted how they were softer than he could have ever possibly imagined.

You tasted like coconut chapstick. Like bliss, delight. Instinctively, Spencer’s arm wrapped itself around your waist pulling you as close as humanely possible. He could feel your heart beating in rhythm with his. As your hand tangled itself in his curly hair, he wished this moment could last forever.

When you pulled away breathless, your cheeks were flushed pink. You briefly bit down on your bottom lip before once again meeting Spencer’s inviting gaze - his arm still holding you in a tight embrace. 

“Tell me again.” You whispered. Spencer’s lips circled into a warm smile. “I love you.” He declared. You slowly traced along his jawline with your fingertips. A bright bream circling your features. “I love you too Spencer.”

The second those words filled the air, he picked you up by the waist and spun you around. A carefree shriek slipped out from your mouth. He set you down and gently grabbing your face, he hauled you in for another kiss.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you all of those things.” He muttered against your lips. His stubble grazing your chin.“How long I’ve been wanting to kiss you.” You giggled.

“Maybe one day you can enlighten me, but I think now we better crawl into that fort as it is way too quiet in there. Suspiciously quiet.” 

Spencer laughed. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” The two of you broke apart. Hand in hand, you joined Benny inside the pillow kingdom. 

The boy was tangled up in a fuzzy blanket, slowly drifting asleep. He cuddled himself up to you the second your back hit the ground. You kissed the top of his head before turning to Spencer.

“Do you want to finish the movie?” You asked quietly.

“It’s okay.” He effortlessly squeezed his arm behind your neck. This allowed you to snuggle in closer and rest against him. “We can just lay here.” “What a perfect plan.”

The smile on your face caused Spencer's heart to skip a beat. He placed a kiss to your temple feeling 100% content.

It was Saturday morning. Saturday. A day Spencer used to spend grading papers and preparing class materials for the week ahead. Now, thanks to the woman sleeping peacefully beside him, his Saturdays looked much different.

Gradually, you stirred next to him. Eyes fluttering open as a yawn escaped your mouth. “Mhmm, good morning.” “Good morning beautiful.”

“How much time do you think we have?” You asked while stretching. “I would say,” Spencer glanced at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “, about five minutes.” He looked down at you and began slowly leaning in. You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. “Let’s make ‘em count.”

A clatter of fast approaching feet caused you to halt right as your lips were about to touch. Spencer groaned knocking his head back against the wooden headboard. 

“Your calculations were a little off Dr. Reid.” You teased sitting up as he ran his fingers through his ruffled hair. He looked at you once again with the kindest smile. You loved that smile. 

“My apologies Mrs. Reid.” He pecked your lips just as the door flew open, your kids bursting through.

-

masterlist

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #fluff

[duckprintspress]

How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours. 

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time. 

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten. 

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed. 

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!) 

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow. 

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

#duck prints press #writing advice #original content

[silversatoru]

Heyo! Can I get some fluff with the #8 quote for Gojo :] I perfer female reader and i don't mind with any au. Hope you feel well and have a good day!

— GOJO + “DO YOU THINK ALIENS ARE REAL?”

gojo satoru x gn!reader

synopsis: your secret boyfriend knocks on your window and steals you for a lil nighttime date in the sky

t/w: gojo is a second year, heights, tooth-rotting fluff, literally just two teenagers hopelessly in love w each other

a/n: thank u for requesting :) i loved writing this so so so much and i could see myself turning this concept into a multiple part series once i have more time to write. gojo as a student being happy and in love fills my heart <3

you strained your eyes at the fine printed lines of your biology textbook, rereading the same paragraph for the fifth time and hoping you would finally retain it. you couldn’t seem to focus no matter how hard you tried, your mind drifting everywhere other than your study materials.

a soft patter on your second-story window jolted you out of your scattered thoughts, your eyes darting up to the source of the noise. your gaze fell upon a certain white-haired boy, a cheesy grin spread across his face as he poked his finger at your window a few more times. you rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of bed and gently pushing open your window in a desperate attempt to avoid making any loud noises.

“what are you doing here? it’s really late,” you hissed at him, trying to appear angry but unable to hide the smile that was tugging at your lips.

“i missed you,” he reached out his hand and held it open for you, “are you busy tonight?”

you took one last hesitant glance at your textbook and then shook your head and intertwined your fingers with his, “not at all”.

he helped you climb out through the window, a cool nighttime breeze stinging your cheeks. this was your weekly routine, you and the infamous blue-eyed boy. your parents didn’t really approve of him (maybe it was his massive ego or maybe it was the weird people he hung around with) but the two of you continued to find ways to see each other in secret. he’d use whatever insane abilities he had to teleport onto your roof and knock on your window, you’d accept, and he’d scoop you out into the night sky for a few hours. these were rare occasions though, as his role as a jujutsu sorcerer didn’t leave him with all that much free time.

tonight was just like every other, your hand wrapped in his as he teleported the two of you to an empty park that was situated on a beautiful overlook of a nearby city. nights with satoru were never less than a dream, a much needed escape from your boring life in the suburbs of tokyo. and nights with you were never less than a breath of fresh air, a few hours when all of his expectations and responsibilities of being a jujutsu sorcerer were nonexistent.

the two of you plopped down on a park bench, musing over the sparkling nighttime lights of tokyo. satoru shifted over, laying back and resting his head of fluffy hair right in your lap. your fingers instinctively found his shiny locks, twisting your fingers through the soft white while the two of you looked up at the stars.

“they’re all washed out from the bright lights, it’s hard to see,” you pouted, disappointed by the light pollution caused by the city.

“yeah it sucks,” satoru frowned — pointing out the constellations was always part of your routine, but he’d picked a bad location this time.

you hummed, massaging his head and straining your eyes to try and make out any shapes of stars in the sky.

“we could get a closer look?” he transferred his icy gaze over to you, a suspiciously evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“satoru, i swear if i’m thinking what you’re thinking — no,” you scolded the boy, your irrational fear of heights becoming prominent in the back of your mind.

“don’t you trust me?” he teased at you, sitting up from your lap and wrapping his hand around yours.

“more than anyone, but i do not want to-,” you continued to protest but the sorcerer boy was no longer paying any attention to your words.

when you opened your eyes again, you were thousands of feet in the sky, the city twinkling down below you and the harsh air stinging your skin. you yelped, clinging to satoru as if your life depended on it (and in sense it did, but he’d never let you get even close to falling).

“why don’t you ever listen to me!?” you cried out, eyes squeezed shut and arms thrown around his neck while he cradled you.

“shhh, look at the stars, babe,” he attempted to peel your arms from around him, using soft words to coax you out of your shell.

you slowly released your death grip on his neck, his strong arms providing a blanket of security over your fear. you forced yourself to look upward, jaw dropping at how clear the sky was — the stars stretched for miles and they were brighter than you’d ever seen them before. satoru truly was an enigma, a spectacle in your life who was constantly defying the laws of everything you knew to be true.

“it’s beautiful,” your voice came out as barely a whisper, you eyes quite literally filled with the stars as you continued to gaze up at the sky.

satoru hummed in agreement, but he was much too busy exploring every feature of your amazed face to even think about the stars. you were the most beautiful, surpassing every natural wonder in world and consuming every chamber of his heart.

he often thought about running away with you — disappearing to a different country and leaving the weight on his shoulders here. you reminded him what it was like to be a normal person — around you he wasn’t the strongest jujutsu sorcerer with the fate of the world in his hands, he was just satoru gojo; and that was always enough for you.

“do you think aliens are real, satoru?” your lighthearted, curious voice broke him out of his daydreams, a small chuckle rolling off his tongue.

in a world full of of curses and sorcery, inexplicably wrapped in his arms thousands of feet in the air, you were still questioning whether or not something like aliens existed. you truly did ground him, constantly tethering him to the normalcies of this world.

“yeah, probably, what do you think?”

“definitely real,” you affirmed, your eyebrows scrunched together in deep thought.

he couldn’t do much but laugh, turning you in his arms so the two of you were face to face now. you gazed down at the tiny city beneath you, one hand curled into his loose hoodie.

“i’m starting to like it up here,” you mused, turning your gaze back to him with a toothy smile, “feels like we’re the only two people who exist; everything else is so far away”.

“yeah,” he liked the sound of that, eyes crinkling up as he returned your smile, “we can do this more often if you like it”.

you gave him a quick nod, reaching up and pressing a quick peck to his curved lips. as you pulled back, you felt his hand wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you right back into another kiss — much deeper than the first. you melted into his arms, your senses devoid of anything other than his touch and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. when you finally pulled away, the two of you were safely back on the park bench again.

“i love you, satoru,” you breathed out, your anxiety from being in the air finally dispelling, “i wish we didn’t have to tip toe around together like this”.

“i know,” he gave your hand a small squeeze, “we should run away someday; somewhere far from here”.

“i’d follow you anywhere,” you returned his squeeze, sadness welling up in your heart as you thought about having to return home and not see him again for a while.

“that’s exactly what i wanted to hear,” he smirked, love welling in his chest as he reflected on how lucky the two of you were to have found each other in such an unfortunate life time.

an hour so later you were back in your bedroom, pressing hasty kisses to satoru’s soft lips as he leaned through the window. you wanted nothing more than to pull him in, ask him to stay, and spend the night wrapped in his arms — but you couldn’t, your parents would kill you and he had important missions to attend to.

“i’ll see you soon, i promise,” he gave you his signature smile, pressing one last kiss to your cheek and stepping away.

he put his hand to his mouth, placing a kiss to his fingertips and then blowing it towards you with a flirty wink — and then he flickered out of sight.

“see you,” you whispered, chest heavy and tears pricking at your eyes as you fantasized of the next time your blue-eyed lover would find his way back to you.

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