#I tried my best this pose was difficult

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 4: Reflection

“Because you and I have the same face.”

[stinkrascal]

i’ll learn how to do so many things for ts4, i’ll learn to make poses and learn to make accessories from build/buy cc and learn to add shadows appropriately to my edits and learn to format text in a way thats easily legible to readers. but one thing i will literally never be able to learn how to do is to draw hair strands

[shymaidxn]

@flovverworks | cont. from ( x )

Of course she pauses when they finally get the courage to speak, her entire process halting with her key dangling from the lock. Ah...They doted on her so much. She knew by now that it was their nature to just be concerned over their friend - no matter how close that friendship was - and it truly was a comfort at her low points to have such a caring neighbor. But her heart aches at the offer too. Her thoughts still flooded with self-deprecation, seeing Akira and knowing that, while they cared so much, this was also just business too. It's not their fault, though, even if her annoyance and worry presents itself with quick words and furrowed brows. Oh, she should just tell her mom to help her move apartments, but that wouldn't solve anything. Her mother and Bishop would both reject the idea when she felt so safe in this little complex. And, despite the cloud hanging over her, she'd hate to leave her only other friend...

"...I'm sorry." She says it in a dry laugh, finally giving Akira the time of day and looking them in the eye. This situation always sucks though, forcing a small smile, while not sure what exactly to say to ease the situation. God, she really was so boring and terrible...

"I'll, um...Let me, first -" She doesn't finish before grabbing her keys from her door, putting them back in her purse before taking a step towards Akira. A bit shaky, a bit stiff, yet trying to laugh off nerves with tired, smiling eyes. "...I'd love to try a cup. I feel like my tea selection has gotten a bit same-old, same-old anyways, you know? I should try new things once in awhile..."

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Before

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Being in love with Azriel wasn’t hard; you’d been doing it for over 400 years. But things were changing, and soon, you would be changed. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. I know I'm like attacking everyone with this random fic I just started but it's getting my writing muse going and it's exciting!! Enjoy :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

“Do you think that’s the best idea, Az?” you promoted, cringing a bit as you hid your face in the racks of clothing along the store’s edge. “I mean, Rhys seemed pretty adamant that you… I don’t know—not pursue her?”

Azriel tsked, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he passed behind you. You turned your wings in. “Rhys doesn’t understand. He only understands the pull of the mating bond and nothing else. But Elain doesn’t want Lucien, I’m sure of it.” 

Something twisted in your gut. “Okay, I believe you. But what if—” 

“Please, y/n, something else now. My failure of a love life must bore you.” 

You bit into your lip as you contemplated ignoring his request. He had done nothing but speak of Elain since you started your outing this evening, but the moment you questioned the feasibility of his plans, the topic was suddenly moot. 

“I was just going to ask,” you broached, turning from the clothes to face the shadowsinger. A necklace display enthralled him. “What if you found your mate? What then?” 

Azriel broke his gaze with the jewels. “That wouldn’t matter. This is different, y/n. You must see that. Three sisters for three brothers. It’s as if it’s a test of fate.” 

“Right,” you nodded, fighting off the urge to throw up or scream. “Destiny, maybe.” 

Azriel’s responding grin did little to soothe you. “Exactly. I knew you would understand. You’ve always understood me.” 

You offered a weak smile, biting the inside of your cheek as he ushered you out of the store with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

This was getting more and more difficult to tamp down. 

When Azriel first became enamored by Elain, you thought it temporary. He had been chasing after Mor for so long; that wouldn’t be trumped by a woman he just met. And you were used to the way he pined for Mor. It hurt, but it was familiar. 

Azriel never seemed to think he had a real chance with her. 

But with Elain—with Elain, he figured he had a fighting chance. He saw the success of his brothers and felt that this was his chance at happiness. He never looked at you the way he looked at her, and he had had so many opportunities to do so. 

He never spoke of you the way he spoke of her. 

This hurt more than it did with Mor.

But still, Azriel was your family, so you pretended that it didn’t. You sat back and listened as he spoke of his grand plans to court her and sneak past Rhysand. You tried your best to provide good input and smiled when you were supposed to. 

You loved him from afar. 

He loved you differently. 

It wasn’t his fault.

“Did Rhys ever say what he wanted to talk to you about?” Azriel asked after a short stint of silence, the sounds of your steps along the streets of Velaris rhythmic and soothing. 

You blinked and focused your attention back on Azriel. “Oh, um, some mission at the camps I think.” 

“Anything big?” 

“I don’t think so. A little unrest but I think he just wants me to make sure the women are training.” 

“Need me to come?” 

“I would, but I leave tomorrow night. Isn’t that when you—you know…” 

Azriel sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh, that’s right.” He tilted his head to the side, weighing his internal conflict. “I could try to move some things around. Elain could—” 

“No, Az, it’s fine,” you interrupted, trying to forget about the times he would restructure his entire schedule to accommodate you. “You have to be diligent with the times you see her. I can see if Cass can come with me.” 

“Are you sure?” he posed, the question twisting his brow. 

You looked up at him, examining each tell on his face. You’d known him so long you were sure you would never forget his face—never scrub your mind of the intricacies that told you of each emotion he felt. 

Many claimed that Azriel was hard to read. As a Spymaster, that was the goal. But you saw through it all. You’d seen him as a boy and you saw him now. 

There was something unfamiliar on his face as you looked at him now. 

“You really like her, don’t you?” The words hurt as they came out. 

Azriel breathed through a smile. 

“I like my chances this time.” He curled his finger beneath your chin in a playful tap. 

That sounded the same. 

~~

“You sure you don’t want me to come, sweetheart?” Cassian asked for the fourth time, the table between you filled with a plethora of distractions that you were all too grateful for. 

You darted your gaze to the side, eager to ensure that Azriel hadn’t heard the loudmouth in front of you. “Yes, Cass. Now quit it. I got it, okay?” 

Cassian sent the pair at the end of the table a perfunctory, almost irritated glance. “It’s a pretty hostile camp you’re headed into. I feel like you should bring backup.” 

“And I feel like you have four other camps to go to today. And a pregnant mate to tend to, no?” 

“Nesta would sooner bash me over the head with her books than let me coddle her. I’ve tried.”

“Well, just… linger around her, I don’t know. Just know that I’m fine and don’t need a babysitter.” 

From the other end of the table, Elain giggled, the sound light and airy. You snuck a glance out of the corner of your eye to find the shadows along the table retreating to the floor. A few had begun to creep towards you, but you shooed them away with a flick of your foot, wanting to keep the conversation away from Azriel’s ears. 

They listened to you—for the most part. 500 years of pestering them made them give a little. 

“Az can’t come?” Cassian asked, his mouth half filled with roasted potato. “He’s not on anything this week.” 

You raised your brow and stared back at the sheepish look the general offered, waiting for him to chew his breakfast before you replied. “He can’t. Spy business.” 

“Spy business.” Cassian deadpanned.

“Uh-huh.” 

Cassian’s skeptical look rivaled your chastising one. “This doesn’t need to go like this and you know that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Right. I’ve only known you since we were twelve but I’m going to pretend that you aren’t covering for the one person you—” 

“Cassian.” 

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Why would she be getting hurt?” Azriel spoke up, his head finally turned from his near-permanent gaze on Elain. 

“I wouldn’t,” you cut in, speaking over the beginning of Cassian’s sentence. “You know how Cassian is, always worrying too much.”

“Is there something to worry about?” Elain asked, looking between the members of the table, her question sweet and ironic coming from her mouth. 

“No—” 

“Yes.” 

“No, there isn’t” you gritted out, throwing Cassian a look. The smile you sent to Elain took effort. “I’m just going on a routine mission, but you know how Illyrians are—overprotective to a fault.” 

Elain nodded and blushed with a soft gleam in her eye, and, Gods, you were reminded why you’d stopped eating breakfast at the House. You bit the inside of your cheek to fight the swell in your throat. 

“I thought Cassian was going to go with you,” Azriel questioned. “You said he could.” 

Cauldron, you really should have taken breakfast in your room. 

You tore your gaze from Elain’s shy expression and blinked at Azriel. He was sat up straighter, brows shot upwards in an accusatory fashion that made you feel that you were in trouble. When you took a moment to respond, he tilted his chin forward, ready to catch you in a lie. 

And you were an awful liar. 

When you were thirty, Azriel had to teach you how to lie to help stave away the men that came with emerging adulthood. That had been mortifying for many reasons, but mainly because he was having you lie about being his mate. Your feelings had become complicated around that time and Azriel did not seem to share the sentiment. 

But you could lie about this with ease. You had become a practiced liar over the years—when it came to hiding your feelings. 

“I-I got an update from Rhys. He said the camp is more settled. I’m only going to watch from afar. They won’t even know I’m there.” 

A lie—a fat lie. But Azriel should be happy. He should pursue Elain as he wanted. You shouldn't get in the way. You needed to get away from them, actually. 

You needed the space. 

You felt Cassian’s disappointed stare on the side of your face but ignored the hole it was burning into your skin. 

“He didn’t inform me of that,” Azriel muttered. He looked to Elain—sweet Elain with her soft eyes and gentle features—and contemplated his night once again. “I think I should come with you. Reports could be conflicting or fabricated.” 

And the way Elain deflated made you press your lips together in a line. Azriel sent her an apologetic, downturned smile and you gathered that he was apologizing for you. You would always be an apology for him, a responsibility. 

Your foot had been shaking under the table without you noticing it, but the moment Azriel’s eyes wandered to Elain, the motion abruptly stopped. You gathered your resolve, sent Cassian another warning glance, and looked back to the man who never saw you. 

“I don’t want you to come, Azriel. I’m bringing Lucien.” 

A low blow, but not one that was uncalled for. 

It had the effect you were hoping for, with both Azriel and Elain sending shocked expressions your way, the former affronted and the latter looking lost. 

“Lucien?” Azriel parroted. 

“Yes,”  you confirmed, taking a causal sip from the cup before you. “Rhys thought it would be good for him to see more than just Velaris and the mortal lands. I’m picking him up before I leave.” 

“And you think he would protect you if the Illyrians went rouge?” Azriel’s tone was bordering on aggressive, his question pointed towards Cassian. 

“The Illyrians are always rouge, Az. That’s kind of the point of all this,” you joked, but the joke didn’t land.

Tension at the table remained. Cassian wasn’t saying anything, his arms crossed and his eyes locked on yours. Your foot started shaking again. Elain, of all people, was the first one to speak. 

“Lucien would protect her,” she nodded, pushing her food around her plate. “He would. He’s… a good male.” 

That altered Azriel’s train of thought very evidently if one were able to pick apart the soft widening of his eyes and the slight twitch of his mouth. All things you caught so easily. 

All things that led him to agree that you should go with Lucien. All tells that made him refocus his attention on Elain and ignore the shallow breaths you let out when you lied.

Because you would be fine with Lucien. Maybe if you went with Lucien, one of Azriel’s suspected obstacles would be removed. Maybe Lucien would start to want you the same way he wanted Elain. 

Only, Lucien wasn’t going with you, and there would never be a time that a conversation like this would happen again. 

A different obstacle, for a different time. 

[choochooboss]

Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!

I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!

BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!

TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!

The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!

As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors

1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!

Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!

Comic cover vibing~

The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel

I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!

Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...

Pokemas Ingo practise!

Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.

YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha

Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah

One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!

RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO

OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!

Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

[hemmingsleclerc]

Golden Globes ┃CL16

summary : where you go to the golden globes with your mystery bf and end up being an f1 driver

The day had arrived, after weeks of anxiety, you were already dressed in ypur beautiful dress, with your makeup and hair done just waiting to leave. Your boyfriend was there with you, but you had both decided not to pose together on the red carpet, so it would just you. After you received the news that you had been nominated in the category of ''best supporting actress'' for your film ''Oppenheimer'' released that same year, you hadn't been able to sleep, you longed for that award after having given your all to that role.

The Golden Globes would be important, that day your boyfriend would accompany you and you couldn't ask for more. In fact, both had tried to keep your relationship as private as possible for the last two years, but at that moment it almost didn't matter to hide it from the public eye.

Arriving at the event, Y/N, adorned in a stunning floor-length dress, gracefully walked the red carpet, flashing smiles and waving to the adoring crowd.

ynupdates

liked by 182,572 others

ynupdates Y/N has arrived to the golden globes looking stunning!

Inside the venue, the atmosphere was equally charged with emotion. You and your partner had already met and were both walking hand in hand.

The glitz and glamor of Hollywood's elite filled the room, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves as she took her seat among the nominees.

As the night progressed, the tension in the room reached its peak when the "Best Supporting Actress" category was announced.

The presenter was reading the names of the nominees while a camera pointed at each one when the room fell silent. Y/N was gripping her boyfriend's hand tightly when the presenter said "And the golden globe goes to" and her heart raced when her name echoed through the auditorium. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she stood up from her seat, she gave her boyfriend a kiss and hugged several of her friends before heading to the stage.

While on stage, holding her award, Y/N began her acceptance speech with her voice shaking. She thanked the incredible team she had worked with on the film, acknowledging the director, her co-stars and her team. The audience burst into applause upon hearing her words.

Then, in a moment that was sure to garner attention on social media, Y/N took a deep breath and dropped a bombshell. "I also want to thank the love of my life, my rock and my biggest supporter ever," she said, drawing shocked faces from the crowd.

The camera panned to capture the surprised expressions on the faces of the audience. Speculation in the room intensified when Y/N continued: "Charles, my charlie, you have been my pillar of strength throughout this incredible journey. Thank you for being there for me through the good and difficult times."

Attention was focused on an elegant Charles Leclerc, sitting in the audience, with a proud smile adorning his face watching her. The revelation caused astonishment in the room and the crowd erupted in a mixture of applause, cheers and murmurs of surprise.

The cameras captured the genuine emotion on Y/N's face as she continued her heartfelt speech, expressing her love for Charles and how he had been the unwavering support she needed all those years. The audience, initially taken by surprise, eventually broke out into a standing ovation, celebrating the couple.

When Y/N left the stage, Charles greeted her with a big hug and a kiss telling her how proud he was of her.

ynln

Liked by charles_leclerc,taylorswift,robertdowneyjr and 1,543,859 others

ynln What a night!!! thank u @goldenglobes !!!

and also thank u to my boy @charles_leclerc for holding me before I passed out from excitement.

username GIRL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!??!?!?!?!

username SINCE WHEN????????????

charles_leclerc beyond proud of you❤️

liked by ynln

[ybklix]

Wearing lose shirt with nothing underneath & sitting on his lap ?? 😵‍💫 Lee know?

minho’s lap😮‍💨

take it off

♡ lee minho

⟡summary: Your boyfriend loves to tease you and make you feel good even after a tiring day at work.

❀ pairing: idol lee know x fem reader

♡ genre - warnings: smut, established relationship, dom! minho, teasing, slight dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex

word count: 3k

a/n: my first request ig wohoo u little minhoes, is this how it works? lol, i had this in my head since minho is tio by zayn coded

You missed Minho, you haven't seen him for days because he was busy at work, you knew that during these dates it was difficult to see him, and then it became almost impossible once he returned to make his presentations, even staying all night in the place. But tonight he promised to see you, lately he ended up so tired that all he did was go to his dorm to rest, sadly you had to insist that he agreed to see you, he also missed you intensely but when it came to his work he got too serious, after all, he had a reputation and image to maintain.

You had cooked for Minho variety of his favorite dishes, you were a little exhausted but it would be worth it to see his tender face light up when he ate something delicious. You were in the kitchen, setting everything up when you heard the characteristic sound of your door indicating that someone was coming in, you smiled broadly and almost run to your foyer to see who it was. Minho was wearing blue jeans, a simple white shirt and a thin jacket loose to his body, he was completely covered even though it was a hot summer day in the city, he couldn't risk being recognized.

You pounced on him and hugged him by the neck, you had missed him so much you couldn't get enough of saying it, Minho reciprocated the hug right away, holding tightly to your lower back.

“Oh, y/n” Minho said while he could still breathe in the smell of your hair.

“Don't let us stop seeing each other for so long” you warned him in a stern but gentle tone once you parted.

Minho smiled as he watched you tenderly and nodded, removing his jacket and face mask.

“What's that?” you asked him as you noticed he was carrying plastic bags from somewhere he shopped in his hand.

“Ah, a dessert for later, come on let's go” Minho added confidently, walking into your apartment.

Minho walked next to you to the kitchen with his hand gently on your butt and finally saw what you had cooked for him.

“Woah, it looks delicious. Thank you, love” Minho walked over to you giving you a kiss on your head.

You watched his round eyes sparkle as he sat down to eat, you wanted to hear everything from him, even though you texted daily and were updated on every single thing he did, you wanted to hear him talk and talk.

“I'll take a picture and post it” he said before picking up the chopsticks.

You smiled at the horrendous angle he took the pictures and joined him for dinner. You didn't want to ask him about work, his face looked a little dull and tired that you didn't know if it was right to start talking about it, but there was nothing else to say, since he spent more time at the company than with you, you both knew that starting a relationship would be sometimes a lonely dynamic, still it was worth every second when you were with him, as if he rewarded you double and you forgot that you don't see him that often. Still you tried to be gentle and say to him:

“Did you have a long day today?”

Minho looked at you and stopped eating for a second.

“Yes, kind of, it was long because it was a day of waiting and small recordings, there were no rehearsals so I found it tedious.”

You could tell it was one of those days by seeing his perfectly coiffed hair and light makeup a bit already worn on his face.

“Did you pick the best pictures for the album?” you said to him amused.

“Sure, I posed like this” he replied amused making a random pose by putting his hands behind his head.

Minho smiled, adorably raising his high cheekbones and you caught his laughter. He kept telling you more details, you adored listening to him talk, he even shared his upcoming schedule to see which days he could dedicate his day only to you, you sighed watching him, sometimes you wanted to be a clingy girlfriend going everywhere he went but, you had to keep your posture.

“When we go to Busan, you're coming with me, I'm not asking you” he commented seriously looking at you intensely, you knew him well, yes he meant it but his intention of being intense was just him being a bit of a tease.

You nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek; after a few minutes he wanted to tidy up and wash all the dishes used as he was always helpful no matter what, you begged to help him as he insisted that you should stay seated to rest the food.

You were next to him, helping him to dry the dishes while Minho washed each pot cautiously, you loved the closeness of his body, honestly you were totally willing for tonight to be one of those tender ones where later he takes a shower and you both go to sleep cuddled up, but you lost yourself in the movement of his big soapy hands, the skillful crush of the sponge and his marked arms with notorious veins... that's when you realized that you didn't just need Minho's company, you needed everything from him, and when you least thought about it, you remembered that it had been long days without sex. You decided to blame your random horny thoughts to the heat of the day, despite having your apartment cool, outside it was a total mess, strong sun during the day and dry and hot nights, you wore shorts and a loose button down blouse that Minho bought you on one of his many trips, he always did that, he bought something for you, but definitely his favorite thing to give you as a gift was clothes that matched his.

You were relieved that Minho didn't notice that you suddenly became aroused at the thought of his hands touching your body, nor that he noticed you looking at him shamelessly, he was just there innocently helping you wash your dishes; otherwise if he had noticed he would start with his double meaning comments and his arrogant little smile, you didn't want it now, you felt completely needy that you didn't need any more humiliation by your boyfriend.

You both finished and Minho decided to rest a bit in your living room making himself comfortable on the couch.

“You'll stay here to sleep, right?” you asked standing in front of him.

“Mmhum” gasped Minho as he stretched his body closing his eyes and trying to relax, “Seungmin is in charge of the dorm, I told him not to disturb at all.”

Minho stared at you, you smiled and were ready to sit next to him until you noticed how he patted his thigh indicating you to sit on his lap, you couldn't be happier and fell on his legs hugging his neck, positioning your body sideways on top of him. You loved sitting on his lap, his thighs were strong and worked, you were so comfortable and your ass accommodated perfectly with no problem, Minho also knew how much you loved it too, as well as slapping his thighs with your ass as you jumped on his cock.

For him it was simple, when he wanted to have you, he did, he would get hard in seconds when it came to you, he still loved to tease you and prolong the process, torturing you both.

“How much did you miss me?” he murmured with an arrogant tone in a low, thick voice.

You slowly lost your sanity as you looked into his leering eyes and heard his tone, oh god, you thought, of course he was going to fuck you tonight, you were so excited that your lower part started to react. Minho was holding you tightly by the waist with his left hand while with his right one, he caressed your thighs.

“You know that I missed you so much, Minho” you stared at him.

“I needed you too, princess.”

He said and moved closer to you to give you a slow, fiery kiss, you needed him so much, you wanted to jump on his cock now, you were so wet and ready, you wanted to feel full, you could feel him too, so hard in a short time, but Minho… he liked slow play and it was killing you inside.

You moaned between the kiss and pulled your body back as you felt Minho's heavy, warm hand rub your center on top of your garment, you knew perfectly well that Minho could keep you like this for a long time, kissing you hotly until your lips swelled; his hand on your waist began to slide inside your loose blouse finally feeling his touch of skin on yours, making you feel so good, Minho moved his hand up to notice your exposed tits, cupping them tightly as he moved his kisses down your jaw and neck, he was still surprised by the sudden delight of feeling your breasts in his hand.

“Why aren't you wearing anything underneath, princess?” he gasped between kisses, feeling his heavy, hot breath on your neck.

You hated talking when Minho made you so bad, your breathing was so ragged and ragged, but knowing him, you knew he always wanted an answer; if you didn't he would make a sudden move on you and growl through his teeth 'I'm talking to you'.

“It's a hot day and... I'm in the comfort of my home, Minho…” you tried to sound as poised as possible.

Minho smiled sideways and squeezed your nipples and the grip on your pussy tighter, causing you to reflexively close your legs a little.

“Or is it because you love to tease me and were so ready for me, kitten, wearing clothes with easy access” Minho whispered in your ear, massaging your breasts harder, “Besides, how do I know you weren't out there like a little slut going shopping to make dinner with nothing on underneath.”

You shook softly, when he made those kinds of comments you knew you were in for a bit of physical punishment so you bit your lip at the memory of his heavy hand on your ass.

“Stand up for a moment baby” he ordered you in a rough voice, you almost moaned as you stopped feeling his hands on you, it felt so wrong when he stopped touching you, “Turn around” he said and positioned you with your back to him.

You listened as he sat up a little from the couch and suddenly you felt his hand squeeze your thigh and then both them search for the button of your shorts, deftly removing them, you were so excited by every slow movement your boyfriend made and it was so unexpected, in a second he could kneel you down and make you suck his cock, or bend you over and start penetrating you, curiosity was eating you to know what he was going to do with you, but you just decided to enjoy every second of it.

Minho took the elastics of your panties and pulled them tight leaving your sensitive and wet pussy exposed, he massaged your ass with two of his hands and you felt a soft kiss on your skin, suddenly nothing, you turned around confused and found your boyfriend trying to pull down his tight pants from his thighs, despite being a bit baggy, once he sat down they became tight on his big legs and finally free him of that denim that burdened his cock. You bit your lip internally screaming to feel his stiff penis in you; Minho pulled down his underwear releasing his throbbing sex full of energy.

“Come here” he grabbed your arm tightly, “I want to smack your cute ass a little.”

You frowned confused trying to have an explanation, “But..” you tried to say but Minho was being rough moving you.

You swallowed nervously and put your abdomen on his thighs, leaving your ass at his mercy as you felt his erection rubbing a little on your waist.

“Don't expect me to be gentle” moaned Minho, lifting your big, loose blouse a little and giving you a hard spanking and then squeezing the injured area.

You gasped in pain, and pleasure as you felt his fingers fuck your entrance all of a sudden, Minho gave you another four hard spanks with his right hand, leaving his hand branded on your ass while with his other hand he mercilessly moved his fingers in you, you were so close to cumming from the pain and pleasure that you felt a little guilty that you find something like that so fucking exciting, but that was Minho, if he didn't make you suffer a little in sex then it wasn't him, even when you made love which was supposed to be sweet and romantic, he fucked you so deep that he made you dig your nails into his back.

Minho saw your legs contract waiting for you to unload all your tension, you were about to tell him you were going to cum, but he stepped forward and stopped, pulling you by your hair with his left hand and telling you full of desire, “Come here, I'm not done yet, you can't cum until I tell you.”

He made you sit back on his lap for which you moaned for your newly hurt ass, this time turning your back to him, you moaned as you felt his hard cock press against your back, he grabbed your waist a little to lift you up and position his dick between your wet labia, making you both moan, the firmness of his manhood felt so good pressed against your soaked cunt, enveloping it perfectly that you wanted to start moving, but you were completely in submissive mode, it was obvious that you couldn't do anything because it was one of those times when your boyfriend took total control.

Minho moved your loose hair out of the way and positioned his face on the side of your neck. He was so turned on he wanted to see everything of you, he was so needy for your pussy squeezing his cock but the long wait turned him on more, more with your needy gaze and sizzling gasps.

“Take off your shirt, baby” he commanded in your ear.

You were about to bend over and take it off over your head like any normal garment but Minho stopped you, “No, no, do it button by button.”

You almost whimpered at the feel of his throbbing cock under your dripping pussy and you being able to do nothing about it; with trembling hands you tried to do it as fast as you could while Minho watched with so much amusement.

“Good girl, you're a good girl for me” Minho murmured as he saw you managed to do as he asked, “Let's get it off” he gently slid your blouse off, finally leaving you naked.

“I want you to show me…” he muttered again, taking your dominant hand and bringing it to your cunt, “How much you missed me, I want to see how you played with your pussy pretending it was me, did you do that, princess?” gasped Minho.

“Yes” you moaned as you touched his tip pressing against your pussy.

It wasn't a lie, the nights were long and boring without Minho and your only companion at times was your faithful vibrator, but nothing compared to him.

You settled your body a little, rubbing your wetness against his erection and let yourself lean on his chest as you tried to stimulate your clitoris giving him the show he wanted. Your squirts were falling on his cock, you closed your eyes letting yourself go as he squeezed your thigh and your tit. Minho was getting the best view possible, watching you squirm for him as you rubbed his swollen cock.

You gasped, your entrance was a little hard to reach in that position and more so with your boyfriend's big erect dick between your folds.

“Were you moaning my name while you were doing it alone, you dirty slut?”

“Mmm… Mi-minho” you whimpered as you continued to play with your clit and subtly rubbed yourself on his cock.

Minho was so lubed too, he moaned to feel your little movements, if you kept this up he was about to cum too. You started stimulating yourself slowly but your heart rate was getting higher and higher, speeding up your own movements in your pussy too, you were so ready to cum on your boyfriend's cock that you were frustrated that you didn't want your own fingers to be the ones satisfying you, so you thought you were going to give him what he craved so much.

“Fuck me, Minho, do it now, please” you whined in his ear.

Minho smiled to hear you begging.

“Then sit on my cock now, princess, take it and ride it well” he gasped.

Agitated, trying to get back all your senses as you incorporated feeling the incredible wetness of your pussy and let yourself fall on Minho's cock, sliding so easily and smoothly inside of you, still, you ached. You both sighed in pleasure finally as you were joined and you began to jump up and down non-stop being heard in the room the grotesque sound of your wet cunt, your ass falling hard on Minho's thighs and the gasps of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess, cum all over my cock now” Minho whispered excitedly.

Minho helped you by holding your waist and when you felt a little overwhelmed you let yourself lean on his chest still with his t-shirt on and he began to ram you hard lifting his hips, while he played with your clit. You felt him so close too, you whimpered with bated breath and fell surrendered in orgasm, sitting on his cock and thighs.

“You did it so well, princess and dinner was delicious, thank you” Minho told you agitated but sweetly, stroking your hair.

[haikyu-mp4]

Crooked bangs

word count; 1053 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

You were nothing short of nervous as you got ready to photograph the tall volleyball players. The volleyball team was one of Shiratorizawa’s many great prides, and you had taken it upon yourself to create something that would represent them and their talents. However, you didn’t expect that some of the players would be even more nervous than you. While working with the first years, Goshiki was proving difficult as he kept turning away from the camera. The coach gave you limited time with his players so you started getting anxious, begging him to tell you what made him so camera shy.

“My bangs are a little crooked and I look stupid,” he mumbled. You hadn’t noticed before, but your eyes darted up to the hair on his forehead and you noticed it wasn’t quite as straight as usual.

“I can’t even see it! Don’t worry, Goshiki,” you tried to assure him, ignoring the other first-years giggling at their future ace acting like that. He didn’t seem convinced by your encouragement and the rest of the members you had at hand were no help, so you browsed your brain for an idea and left for where the rest of the team were training. Muttering encouragement for yourself this time under your breath, you walked over to the coach and asked him to borrow a specific player. He considered for a moment, but your respectful demeanour convinced him.

“Tendo! You’re excused. Follow her and make it quick,” the coach yelled, and the redhead was surprised, to say the least. Still, he strolled over to you and gestured for you to lead the way.

“I thought you were starting with the first-years?” he asked and you put a hand on his upper arm before leaning closer so you didn’t have to speak too loudly. Tendo took the hint and leaned down.

“Goshiki is refusing to take his pictures because of his hair. I’ve seen how you encourage him between games, please help me,” you explained, hoping he could hear how desperate you felt. Tendo stood back up to his full height and looked at your eyes for a second. It felt good to hear someone notice his efforts and talk to him so casually. Like he wasn’t scary. He hadn’t even talked to you before, but you seemed to have a good impression of him. He liked this feeling.

“I’ll try my best, boss,” he said simply with a wink. The two of you went back to the first-years and Tendo did his best to boost Goshiki’s confidence. Telling him how people would be looking at the awesome flyer after seeing his amazing line shots to find information about him, the next ace. His eyes found yours and you nodded.

“I can even write that on your profile if you want! The future ace sounds pretty impressive.”

And so the two of you got Goshiki to pose more confidently, cheering him on until Tendo had to go back and you could start with the second years.

When it was finally the third-years’ turn, you smiled a little brighter at the tall redhead. “Thank you for your help earlier, I appreciate it,” you said. The two of you seemed to be looking at each other like the others weren’t even there.

“No worries, are you happy with all the pictures so far?” he asked, not noticing the way Reon and Semi glanced at each other.

“Very, it’s fun showing off such a great team.” Your cheeks almost matched his hair with the way you felt when his eyes were on you.

“That’s good, saved the best for last of course. How do you want us?” he said as he finally broke out of the trance, rubbing his hands together.

“Give me a look that says undefeated champions, even though it’ll probably say it on the paper as well,” you giggled, trying not to be shy about your excitement.

The third-years had you laughing nonstop, energy high as you went from static Ushijima who really just had two poses to dynamic Tendo who made some funny faces for you. You got Reon to give you a handsome smirk and Semi had more than enough confidence and it showed. Overall, you couldn’t be happier.

“You guys better get back to practice, thank you so much,” you said, starting to pack up your stuff. As they were about to leave, Tendo doing so a bit hesitantly, you stopped them. “Wait! Ushijima, did you find someone?”

When explaining the concept to him and asking for his approval, you informed him that you would love it if someone spent some of their own time to make sure you had all the right information. The captain seemed to understand what you meant after a moment of thought. He pointed to Tendo, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Satori will meet you for lunch tomorrow,” he said before bowing and leaving. The others followed him, except for Tendo who gulped and stuck around. Is his best friend, the Ushiwaka, playing wingman?

“I’ll meet you by your classroom at lunch then,” you said cheerily. You could feel your little crush blossoming, charmed by how he made you laugh.

“TENDO SATORI!” the coach yelled, done with waiting for the lanky boy.

“I’ll see you then, Grandpa’s calling,” he joked and left you with a soft chuckle.

I can’t wait for tomorrow.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust @nagi-core

[longingforrotkehlchen]

My 2024 Top 10 Favourites.

On Melancholy Hill Tumblr's and my absolute favourite. There isn't much to say. I just remember turning around while counting geese, and there it was - an idyllic scene. A crow extraordinarily relaxed, loafing on a nice spring afternoon. I came a bit closer thinking I *really* hope it stays. Then I crouched fearing the same, but the crow, watched me attentively and stayed. I was blessed - the luck of photographing birds more used to people. The slope gave me the perfect height for the shot, and the crow just chilled there, looking like something was occupying its mind. I got what I wanted and left. The crow stayed there, but it also stayed with me forever.

Sweet mommy's love It was Graugansito season and fortunately I was right in time to see the very little ones. This scene was beautiful, and obviously the geese just chill by the lake and all you need is a perfect moment to capture. This one stood out for me. And I can neither confirm nor deny whether there were more goslings hidden under mommy's wing.

Europe's angriest bird This picture was taking by cheating. So call me a cheat. It is nice, but I cheated. And even worse, I made a little guy angry. Yes, I did play playback (even though I believe that's wrong) in this one because I had seen a pair of goldcrests here the previous week and I was very curious to see if they were genuinely staying and breeding in this place. The male came and sang immediately –that's how I got him nicely close to me–, but the best thing about this encounter wasn't the pictures - it was realizing that the bird seemed to know there wasn't another bird. That I was the source of the goldcrest song. That I was his enemy. I haven't managed to make a bird love me, but that day, I managed to make one hate me.

The light of duckling This pond lends itself to high contrasts and you can play a little with that. I didn't have much time, and the ducklings were all over the place, but I got lucky (otherwise, this post wouldn't exist). As I was leaving I took one last shot with the settings I had for a different spot - and it turned out well. Some of my favourite photos are those that transmit emotions when you look at them. I think this is also one of them.

Spring has arrived It's easy to forget you don't have to be very close to the bird to get a nice photo. In any case, here I was taking a photo out of excitement at seeing Hausrotschwanzkehlchen back, before getting closer to the bird. I never intended it to be anything more than a 'proof' shot, but sometimes those turn out way better than expected.

Is this fluff real? It was peak migration, sunny late afternoon, Schwanzmeise flock and there I was, trying to capture this so-called product of my imagination. It was difficult to get the right angle as the sun was behind them and I had to avoid the backlight, but the good thing about them is that they don't seem to care much about your presence. I got this one really really nicely, and right after they left, I saw my first black storks in the sky. Last September was good.

One more shot As I focus on birding and photography comes second, sometimes I might just leave with zero nice photos to post. That day was no different, but that day I was also thinking: "I'm running out of current photos to post." So I gave it an extra shot, overstayed, and tried to find a subject. A big Blaumeise bunch showed up, many of them, busy foraging, and (I think it was always the same) one came so close that allowed me to take some cute photos.

The pose There's little challenge in taking photos of the coots in this pond. If that wasn't enough, the light was nice that day and someone had thrown a pallet in it. The coot was standing on it and I thought the opportunity was too nice to ignore. Then it even started stretching, giving me the chance to capture this nice pose. The poop is just extra.

The babiest Wacholderdrossel As I was leaving the S-Bahn station, coming up the stairs, I saw this baby perched on a handrail. I could barely believe it, so I emerged, went there, and took my camera out. The baby was going nowhere despite people walking right in front of it. I took some photos, in awe, and I don't know what everybody else contemplating us thought, but I thought that I was so damn lucky to have such a cute photo without even having started.

Just a moment If you're learning photography, nobody is going to tell you "just shoot at whatever you see," but that seems to work sometimes. It's not my intention, mind, because here I saw a little bird perching above my head and I really needed this shot to indeed confirm I was seeing Fitis and not Zilpzalp. But look at that little face, that smoothness... I guess when you take thousands of shots while going places, a few might also be nice. It's never easy to decide, but here's my selection with some background/behind the scenes. As usual there isn't much to it. Mostly just press the button. Let's hope 2025 brings us more bird joy to all of us!

[gayboydetectivez]

Tw smoking

Dbda drabble

.

.

.

"Job officially jobbed, good work, guys!" Charles smiled at his companions, coat still covered in green slime from the evil plant they had just killed.

It hadn't been a difficult case, comparatively, but hunting through the forest for a cursed bush and then losing the bottle of weed killer had made it significantly more difficult than intended.

"We should head back to the office." Edwin replied, still scratching notes into his book as he led the walk back to the bus stop.

After a few minutes crystal began digging in her bag, retrieving a small paper box and a lighter. Pulling one of the thin sticks from the box, putting it to her lips, she ignited the end, inhaling deeply.

"You smoke?" Charles asked incredulously.

"Is that uncommon now?" Edwin chimed in, a confused look on his face.

"It's frowned upon, but plenty of people still do it." Crystal answered, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. In her months with the agency, she had grown accustomed to Edwin's cultural questions, no longer being overly sarcastic in response to his genuine confusion over time period differences.

Edwin hummed thoughtfully, watching the grey plumes curl in the air before being swept away by the wind.

"Did you ever smoke, Charles?" He asked after a moment.

"Occasionally. When the lads had a carton or I was at a party." Charles answered simply, leaving out the risk coming home smelling of cigs posed to 16yr old him and his fathers impact on his lack of typical teen rebellion. "You?" He asked, mainly to be polite. Charles knew Edwin had a sheltered childhood, as most childhoods seemed to be during his era, but he had grown fond of their usual back and forth routine.

"Me? Oh yes, quite frequently." He answered, earning duel shocked expressions from his companions.

"You smoke?" Crystal asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

"Well it has been over a century..." He corrected snarkily, "but yes. It was common place when I was alive for boys as young as 10 to get their first cigarette case and begin smoking. It was a right of passage of sorts, i suppose." He shrugged.

"Next you're gonna tell us you were shooting whiskey and doing lines of coke." Crystal retorted, earning a chuckle from Charles, who despite being well aware of his best mate's rebellious nature, simply couldn't imagine him getting drunk and doing drugs like some rockstar Charles had on his bedroom wall as a child.

"'A gentleman does not shoot whiskey, he sips it'" Edwin quoted, allowing Charles for a moment to envision what Edwins father had sounded like, "and cocaine was a very powerful and frequently prescribed medicine. It was a main ingredient in cough syrup." He informed his stunned counterparts.

Charles tried to press back the images flashing in his mind of Edwin drunk, cheeks pink, smoke swirling around him as a cigarette balanced carelessly between his fingers.

"Can ghosts smoke?" Crystal asked unprompted. "Like have you tried?"

"I can't say I have," he said, "though there were moments in Hell where I thought I could have killed for a cigarette and a drink." He added, laughing the way he usually did when speaking of Hell. Casual but with a faint tightness to it, not quite forced but not quite natural either.

Crystal dug the cardboard pack out from her bag again, offering one to Edwin. He gave his usual resigned sigh and took one, rolling the white stick between his long fingers, inspecting it, before bringing it to his mouth. Charles breath caught in his throat. Crystal flicked the lighter and Edwin leaned in to inhale through the flame. The smoke plumed around his face as his eyes fluttered shut in memory.

He exhaled a small cloud and looked at the expectant faces around him. "I can't exactly taste it, but it is rather pleasant." He answered their unasked question, taking another drag. If Charles could blush, he would be the same color as his shirt. "My apologies, would you like to try?" Edwin asked, holding the lit cigarette out to Charles who had spent the majority of this time staring at him in stunned awe.

Charles looked from the offending item to his partners expectant face and back again before sliding the cigarette from Edwin's thin pianists fingers and placing it in his own mouth. He tried not to think too hard about the fact it had also been in Edwin's mouth just moments ago. He inhaled, smoke filling his chest, the usual subtle burn missing as it flowed down his windpipe and back out again. Edwin had been right, he could almost taste it. The usual flavor dulled by death, instead a faint earthy flavor filled his senses. It was familiar enough to recognize as tobacco but lacked the overpowering taste.

Blowing out the smoke, he smiled at Edwin's expectant face. "That's brills." He said, returning the cigarette to his partner.

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * ten things I hate about you

warnings: longggg as helll and it would’ve been longer too but I cut half the ending and I’ll put it in the next part so the chapters aren’t years long AND credits to lynn painter the story isn’t mine along with quotes!!!

pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader

series master list

your day started off great today! your cat mr. fitzpervert left a hairball in your slipper, you burnt your ear with the hair straightener and when you walk out of your house you see your long time next door nemesis sitting on the hood of your car

“hey!” you slide your sunglasses up your nose, hightailing in his direction, making sure you’re careful not to ruin your new floral flats “get off my car, you weirdo!”

percy jumped off, holding his hands up in a I’m innocent pose, even though his smirk said differently. regardless of his current demeanor you knew him since kindergarten, he’s never been innocent a day in his life

“what’s in your hand?”

“nothing” he put his hand behind his back “you’re so paranoid”

you walk up to him, squinting your eyes up at his face. though he claims to be innocent his sea green eyes twinkle with mischief. you knew you we’re screwed because mischievous percy always won

you poked him in the chest. “what did you do to my car?”

“I didn’t do anything to your car, per se”

“per se?”

“woah. watch your filthy mouth, y/l/n”

you roll your eyes, which made his mouth slide into a grin before he said, “this has been fun, and I just love your granny shoes, by the way, but I’ve gotta run”

“percy-”

he turned and walked away before you could finish speaking. when he got to his porch he opened the screen door and yelled over his shoulder, “have a great day, y/n!”

that’s not a good sign. that could’ve been legitimate. you and percy had been enemies since forever, in a war over the one available parking spot. percy only won because he was a dirty cheater, thinking it’s funny to reserve the spot by putting miscellaneous objects in the spot to difficult for you to pick up yourself

yesterday however you won. you called the city after he had left his car in the spot for three days, earning him a parking ticket

you checked all four tires before climbing into the car and buckling your seat belt. you heard percy laugh, and when you went to glare at him through your passenger window his front door slams shut

then you saw what was so funny

the parking ticket had now been on your car for all to see, stuck to the windshield with tons of clear packaging tape. you got out of the car and tried to pry it off but it wouldn’t budge

what a tool

💌

when you finally made it to school after scraping your window with a razor blade and doing hard-core deep breathing to reclaim your zen, you entered the building with the bridget jone’s diary soundtrack playing. when your music was playing this loud it was easier to walk through the crowded hallways, ignoring rambunctious teenagers

you headed to the second floor bathroom where you met annabeth every morning. your best friend was an insane over sleeper so every morning she would rush to do her makeup before the first bell rang

“y/n, I love that dress!” annabeth threw you a side glance between cleaning up her eyes, then opening her mascara and swiping the wand over her lashes

you went over to the mirror to straighten out your vintage dress, making sure it’s not in any awkward position. you catch sight of two cheerleaders vaping behind you, giving them a closed-mouth smile

“do you try to dress like the leads in your movies, or is it just a coincidence?” annabeth asked

“don’t say ‘your movies’ like I’m a porn addict or something”

“you know what I mean,” annabeth said as she separated her lashes with a safety pin

you knew exactly what she meant. you watch your mothers beloved rom-coms every night, using her dvd collection you inherited from her after she died. annabeth didn’t know about how close you had been with your mother, although you lived on the same street for many years, you were never really close until sophomore year. she always thought your love for romance movies was due to you being a hopeless romantic

once finished, annabeth put her makeup back in her backpack and grabbed her coffee. “come on”

you take a last glance in the mirror. “wait- I forgot lipstick”

“we don’t have time for lipstick”

“there’s always time for lipstick”

you search your bag until you grab hold of your new favorite shade- retrograde red. “you go ahead, I’ll catch up”

she left and you rubbed the color over your lips- much better. you tucked the lipstick back in your bag and exited the bathroom

when you got to class you sat in the desk between annabeth and drew tanaka

“what’s the answer to number eight?” annabeth was writing fast as she tried to complete her homework. “I forgot about the reading and I have no idea why gatsby’s shirts made daisy cry”

you pulled out your worksheet and allowed her to copy your answers. your eyes shifted over to drew. if surveyed, everyone on the planet would agree that she was beautiful, her whole appearance extremely appealing to the eye, an absolute indisputable fact. however her soul was the complete opposite

you disliked her so very much

on the first day of kindergarten she’d caused a scene when you got a bloody noise, the entire glass gawked at you in disgust. In third grade she told your crush at the time your notebook was filled with love notes about him (which was true but he didn’t need to know that). In fifth grade, after your mom died, drew sat next to you at lunch, displaying the perfect lunch her mother had made. sandwiches were cut into adorable shapes, homemade cookies, brownies with sprinkles; it had been a treasure trove of kiddie culinary masterpieces

to this day everyone thought drew was an angel, but you knew. you knew all the awful things she’s done

you turned your attention to the front of your room where your teacher began collecting last nights homework. you passed your papers forward and began talking about literary things. you took glances around your eyes until they stopped on a boy you went out with a few weeks ago. he gave you a chin nod from his desk, you returned a smile

he was nice but the relationship wasn’t it. this is how most of your relationships went though. you would see a cute guy, daydream about him, think he’s your soulmate, then you got the ick

annabeth always said you were browsing not buying. she ended up being right- as always. this messed up your prom potential. you wanted to go with someone who would make your breath catch and heart flutter, but who was left in the school that you haven’t considered?

technically you had a prom date- you were going with annabeth. the problem was that going to prom with your best friend felt like a fail. you knew you’d have a good time. but prom was about poster/board promposals, matching corsages, speechless awe over the way you like in your dress, and sweet kisses under the cheesy disco ball

andrew mccarthy and molly ringwald pretty in pink sort of shit

My phone buzzed, snapping you from your trance

annabeth: I have BIG tea.

you looked over at her, but she appeared to be listening to the teacher you glanced at her before responding: spill it

annabeth: FYI I got it via text from kate.

you: so it might not be true. Got it.

the bell rang, so you grabbed my stuff and shoved it into my bag. annabeth and you started walking toward your lockers, and she said, “before I tell you, you have to promise you’re not going to get all worked up before you hear everything”

“oh my god, what’s going on?”

you turned down the west hall and before you had the chance to look at her, you saw him walking towards you

jason grace?

“aaaand there’s my tea” annabeth said, but you weren’t listening

jason had lived down the street when you were little. you’d loved him as far back as you could remember. he’d always been next-level amazing, smart, sophisticated- totally dreamy

jaosn came over and wrapped me in a hug, and you let my hands slide around his shoulders. your stomach went wild as you felt his fingers on your back

oh. my. god.

you was dressed for it; he was beautiful. could this moment be more perfect? you made eye contact with annabeth, who was slowly shaking her head, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered

jason was back!

@fratbrochrisgf @maybxlle @lastolympus @lara20aral

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Stuck On You

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dark themes, slut shaming, obsessive behaviour, smut.

Word count: ~6k

Summary: When her email is hacked and racy photos she'd sent to her boyfriend find their way onto Myspace, she becomes the social pariah of Oxford University. She turns to the only person she believes is intelligent enough to be able to help; Michael Gavey. Could uncovering the truth of the situation make things worse than they already are?

Author's note: Written to celebrate one year of my blog existing. Sorry for the delay. Crumbageddon beat the shit out of me. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Using a painting of that former duchess as a conversation piece, he describes what he saw as her unfaithfulness, frivolity, and stubbornness, and implies that he prefers her as a painting rather than as a…as a living woman,” her voice shakes, stumbling over her words, watching as her essay papers slip from her hands, fluttering towards the rug of the study.

“Sh-shit…I’m sorry,” she stammers, leaning down to snatch them back up, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment as she attempts to rustle them back into order.

“Everything alright?” Professor Ware asks, shifting in his seat and clasping his hands in his lap.

“Distracted by her own portrait, I should imagine,” snarks Farleigh, cutting her off before she has a chance to reply. 

He smirks up at her, before returning his focus to the screen of his Macbook, fingers tapping quickly across the keys as he sits on the floor with it in his lap, leaning back against the armchair she currently sits in, his legs crossed at the ankle.

Of course he’d left it until the last minute to do his essay. Lazy prick.

“Stop it,” she hisses, knocking his shoulder with her knee.

“Why? It’s up again already anyway,” he retorts with a casual shrug, not bothering to look at her this time.

Her blood runs ice cold, dread gnawing a pit in her stomach. That would be the fourth time this week.

“Where?!” She demands, leaning down to snatch Farleigh’s Macbook from him, ignoring his protestation of “hey!” as she clicks on the minimised Internet Explorer window to see her Myspace profile already open.

Just as he’d said, there she is. Her profile picture depicts her in a lacy two piece lingerie set, laying on her bed, her cleavage, stomach and thighs on full display. She’d thought the angle flattering when she’d first held the digital camera above herself and snapped the picture, but now it’s splashed all over the internet for everyone to see. It makes her feel sick.

“I have to go,” she says hurriedly, shoving Farleigh’s Macbook back into his lap and stuffing her essay papers into her bag.

She almost trips over Farleigh’s long legs in her rush to escape the tutorial room, the air suddenly feeling too thick and difficult to breathe, as her heart hammers in her chest. Her feet carry her down the hallway in quick strides, no particular direction in mind, just eager to get away.

It had all seemed like innocent fun at first. She had felt excited on the second day of Fresher’s Week when a group of girls from the floor of her accommodation had invited her to go shopping with them

They had wrinkled their noses as she had beelined for the Ann Summers in Westgate Shopping Centre, lured by the big, red sale banner in the window.

“Oh darling,” India had cooed, “don’t buy that rubbish. We’ll get the train into London and take you to Rigby and Peller in Mayfair, if it’s lingerie you’re after.”

She had balked inwardly at the thought of how expensive that would be, but had simply smiled politely, stating “this is fine”, more than happy with the matching black lace set she’d picked from the sale rail.

Back in her room, she’d tried it on, loving the way the material hugged her curves and felt against her skin. Excitedly, she’d dug out her digital camera, contorting herself into various poses that she felt best displayed her assets, until she was satisfied she had several that looked good.

She hadn’t seen her boyfriend, Jake, since she had left for Oxford and he had gone to Brighton. Their reading weeks didn’t align, which meant they’d have to wait until the term came to an end to see each other at Christmas.

Emailing him the photos had felt like a nice way for them to maintain some sort of intimacy, despite the distance, and he’d certainly appreciated it, as a couple of hours later she’d gotten a text from him which simply said “wow!”

The high from that had left her with a smile on her face for days, until she’d stepped out of a tutorial a few days later to see a missed call and a text from him.

“What the fuck are you playing at?!” It had read.

She’d called him back straight away, the urge to vomit growing acrid in her throat as he’d told her what he’d seen, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she’d scrambled with shaking hands to free her laptop from her bag, to confirm what Jake was saying.

There it was. Her Myspace profile picture had been changed to one of the lingerie photos she’d sent to him. This one was a full length photo she’d taken, aiming the camera at the mirror in her room.

The hot prickle of tears had burned beneath her eyelids, as she’d drawn in a shaky breath. “Wh-why would you do that?” She’d whispered tearfully into the phone.

“It wasn’t me!” Jake had snapped angrily. “Perhaps if you hadn't taken those bloody photos in the first place then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Are you seriously blaming me?!”

“It just looks bad. I think maybe we should cool things for a bit, I can’t with be someone that—”

Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she’d pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing the call had cut off. She’d run out of credit. In a way, she was grateful; she didn’t want to listen to Jake ending their relationship, to continue to blame her for something that wasn’t her fault.

She had taken the photo down, changed her profile picture back to what it was before, and changed the password for both Myspace and her email. However, the damage was done, the whispers of “slut” as she walked to lectures had already started.

Another two days later she had entered the IT lab to print out her essay, and saw a group huddled around a computer, laughing together. They had turned, immediately quietening down, their voices hushed whispers as they looked at her. 

She had pushed them apart, already knowing what it was they were all looking at, but wanting to confirm it. Just as she’d suspected, her Myspace profile was open. This time her photo had been changed to an over the shoulder shot. The side of her face and her buttocks visible as she’d arched her back.

Running back to her room, tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she’d taken the photo down again and changed all her passwords. But once again, it was too little, too late. A print out of the photo slipped beneath her door that same day, with the word “whore” scrawled across it.

Her friends were already starting to pull away, the invites to the pub had dried up into nothing. When another photo had been uploaded, Felix had pulled her to one side.

“Look, I think it’s incredibly daring of you to be doing what you’re doing, and I respect the fuck out of you for it, really I do,” he’d said, eyes filled with sympathy as he’d looked down at her. “But a few of us really aren’t comfortable with how you’re going about…getting attention, so I just think it’s for the best if we take some space until you’ve figured out whatever this is.”

She had been stunned by his words, her eyes going wide as her mouth had dropped open. “You think I’m doing this to myself?!”

“Well, what else are we supposed to think? We’re worried about you. There are better…healthier ways to make yourself stand out. Just come clean and all of this can stop.”

Turning away in disgust, anger and betrayal flaring white hot in her chest, she’d walked away. This was happening to her, she wasn’t complicit in it, and yet people continued to act like it was her fault. She had started to wonder if she really was to blame. Had she tempted fate by taking those photos in the first place?

Today was the fourth time a photo had been uploaded and having fled from the tutorial with Professor Ware and Farleigh, she finds herself in the Bodleian Library, having walked on instinct. 

It serves as a quiet refuge for her in moments when she feels overwhelmed, hiding among the shelves, admiring tomes that are older than she is. She’d come here on her first day, when the influx of new people, sights and sounds had become too much, and she had crouched between the stacks the first time one of her photos had been leaked. The smell of old books and the peace and quiet feels safe.

Walking silently between the study tables she spots him, alone, as he always is; Michael Gavey. He is hunched over a notebook, scribbling furious notes, stopping occasionally to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

She had thoroughly embarrassed herself the first time she’d met him, the only time she had ever spoken to him. It had been the night of the fresher’s welcome dinner. She’d heard his outburst in the dining hall, heard how he had answered the subsequent multiplication sum flawlessly and been bowled over by how effortlessly brilliant he was. It was intimidating.

Yet, later that evening fuelled by the courage of five tropical watermelon flavoured Bacardi Breezers, she’d stumbled over to him in the rec room, ignoring how he’d recoiled slightly at her advancing towards him.

She’d wrapped an arm around his neck, taking no notice of the way he’d stiffened beneath her touch.

“Wha’s nine hundred and ninety nine divided by thirteen?” She’d slurred into his ear.

He had bristled slightly, before answering quietly. “Seventy six point eight five.”

She had giggled, patting his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. “Don’t even know how to check that, but I’ll take your word for it, genius.” 

Kissing his cheek, she’d stumbled away, leaving him to wipe away the sticky residue her lips had left behind, while Felix and Farleigh had fallen about themselves, laughing, finding it far funnier than she’d intended for it to be. She had ended up making him a laughing stock without even meaning to.

The memory fills her with shame. She really did find him impressive. He was precisely the type of person she had wanted to rub shoulders with when she arrived at Oxford, yet she had made a fool of herself instead.

She smiled at him whenever she caught his eye on the rare occasions they crossed paths, but he’d either look away or stare at her expressionless.

Perhaps now was her opportunity to make amends. She has no friends now anyway, so it’s not as though she has anything to lose.

Walking over to his table, before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, she sits down heavily in the seat next to him, depositing her bag onto the tabletop.

Michael’s pen pauses its movements, and slowly his head turns to the side, narrowing his eyes at her in silent question.

She suddenly has the urge to run, realising this was a terrible idea. She feels enormous discomfort beneath the scrutiny of his gaze yet, determined to push through it, she offers him a bright smile.

“You’re Michael, aren’t you?” She says, attempting to sound more cheerful than she feels.

“Yes,” he replies simply, placing his pen down and straightening in his seat.

“Thought so. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” he cuts her off. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” she swallows, shifting awkwardly in her seat. She hadn’t anticipated him being quite so blunt. “Well, I wanted to apologise for how I behaved on the first night. I thought maybe we could be friends?”

He scoffs, the corners of his mouth turning up into the faintest of smirks. “As if I’d be friends with someone who’s reading literature. Why pay all that money in tuition fees for a glorified book club?”

For a moment she doesn’t know what to say. Shock, offense and hurt swirl in a hot mixture in her chest. She fights the embarrassing urge to burst into tears. Her voice is small and weak when she finally asks “How do you know what I’m studying?”

Michael nods towards the desk. “There’s a book of Robert Browning poetry sticking out of your bag.”

“Right, yeah…” She feels her skin heat up, turning to slowly tuck the book further down inside, still able to feel his eyes upon her. It’s disconcerting to be observed so closely.

“Where’s that group of losers you usually hang around with anyway?”

The question takes her by surprise, and she laughs softly, though there is no real humour to it. “I don’t think they want to hang around with me anymore.”

“So you’re a Norman no mates too then?”

His expression has softened, a slight playfulness brightens his blue eyes as she looks back at him, and she can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

He leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his hand. “Hmmm. So they got bored of you then?”

“No…I–”

She sighs exasperatedly, running a hand through her hair, before digging through her bag to pull out her laptop. “It’s probably easier if I show you.”

Setting the laptop down on the table, she loads her Myspace page, the same picture she’d seen on Farleigh’s Macbook earlier still set as her profile photo. “Someone keeps changing my profile picture to this. I sent my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend…some photos and now someone has them and keeps doing this every time I change it back.”

Michael’s expression is impassive as he stares at the screen. “Have you changed your passwords?”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“So, you’ve been hacked.”

“Looks that way…I don’t suppose you know anything about computers? Maybe you could help me figure out who’s doing this?”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, staring intently at her, “so there it is, pretending to befriend the college nerd because you need computer help. Do you not think it’s a bit of a tired stereotype to assume that because I’m reading maths I’d be able to help you with your IT issues?”

“No, it’s not like that!” She protests, her eyes welling up with tears. She turns away, defeated, deciding this is a lost cause and closes her laptop. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

He sighs. “Well, there’s no need to cry about it. I can help you, just not right now. Are you free later this evening?”

She sniffles, her eyes going wide as she looks at him in surprise. “Really?”

He nods, closing his notebook and slipping his pen into his breast pocket. “I’ve got a tutorial in twenty minutes, but I can help trace the IP of whoever’s hacked you. I’m on the first floor of the Brasenose, second room left of the staircase. I’ll be back around five.”

Nodding, she immediately feels lighter, the possibility that this may finally come to an end instantly lifting her spirits. A chance to get her life back. “That’s perfect, I’ll see you then. Thank you so much.”

He rises, his gaze remaining fixed upon her. “See you later.” 

The way he addresses her, first and last name, sends a shiver down her spine as she watches him turn away and walk slowly out of the library. She wonders what she has gotten herself into, but with no friends and no other options there is little else to be done.

She is filled with restless energy for the rest of the day, unable to sit still or concentrate during the only other lecture she has that afternoon, until eventually she finds herself standing outside of Michael’s room at quarter past five, the hours leading up to that feeling as though they’ve lasted an eternity.

Where there is the faint sound of music or talking coming from the doors she’s passed already on her way here, she is struck by the eerie silence she is met with from his, and wonders for a moment if he’s even home.

Nervous excitement crackles like electricity through her body and her knock is louder than she intends for it to be. She hears shuffling from the other side, until the door swings slowly open. Michael stands poker straight on the threshold, staring down at her.

“Did you bring your laptop?” He asks.

Yet again she is taken aback by how forthright he is, but she nods, stepping in as he moves to the side to let her pass.

Looking around the room, she takes in the plainness of his bedspread, the shelves of mathematics and physics textbooks, the desk set up in the corner that has his laptop open on it. There is nothing that gives even the slightest indication as to who he is as a person.

The sound of him clearing his throat startles her attention back to him, and she turns with an apologetic smile to face him. “Sorry, always weird being in someone else’s room…”

“Right,” he replies, his gaze unwavering as he looks at her. “Laptop?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” embarrassment heats up her skin, as she rummages in her bag, taking it out and handing it to him.

He settles it next to his own on the desk, before taking a seat.

She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around, not quite knowing what to do with herself. “Um…where should I…?”

“Anywhere,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, not looking at her.

She settles on the edge of the bed, running her hands over the soft cotton of the duvet cover. It’s an odd sensation to sit so casually in the space that she knows he sleeps. It feels too familiar, too intimate.

Glancing to the side, she notices the shimmer of gold and purple in the bin. She smiles to herself, having learned something about him in spite of the lack of personal effects in his room. He has a sweet tooth, evidenced by the Crunchie bar wrappers in the bin.

“Password?” He asks, and her head snaps up towards him.

“Hmm?”

He turns in his chair, resting his arm on the back of it, glaring at her over his shoulder. “The password for your laptop, what is it?”

“Oh!” She exclaims. “Is it safe for me to tell you that?”

“It is if you want me to help you,” he sighs.

She squirms uncomfortably. He has the innate ability to make her feel small, foolish, but what’s most disconcerting is that she doesn’t dislike it, there is something about him that draws her to his condescension. 

“It’s Shakespeare,” she tells him sheepishly, “with a four in place of the first A.”

“What about the passwords for your email and Myspace accounts?”

“The same.”

“The same?!”

“I’ve changed the passwords each time a new photo has been posted, but it’s just easier to have the same one for everything.”

He groans, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “No wonder you’ve been hacked, typical fucking liberal arts student.”

She lowers her gaze, fingers plucking nervously at the bedspread. “Different passwords for every account, got it.”

“Well, that’s a start, yes,” he tells her, turning back to the screens. “Has anyone but you had access to your computer?”

“No, it stays in my bag when I’m not using it.”

She sits watching him tap away at the keyboards of both laptops alternately for a few moments before she speaks again. “I’m not stupid, you know,” she tells him, her voice sounding meeker than she means for it to. “English Language and Literature is no less of a respectable course than Mathematics. I wrote an essay on the Robert Browning poem, My Last Duchess, recently. It’s a fascinating piece, focusing on the Duke of Ferrara using a painting of his former wife as a conversation topic. The Duke speaks about his former wife's perceived inadequacies to a representative of the family of his bride-to-be, revealing his obsession with controlling others in the process. Browning uses this compelling psychological portrait of a despicable character to critique the objectification of women and abuses of power. It’s a compelling commentary on social status and elitism.”

“What would you know about either of those things?” He asks, continuing to type.

“More than I’d like to,” she says quietly, “I don’t fit in here, not really. I earned my place with a scholarship.”

He pauses, stiffening, glancing over his shoulder at her with a “hmm”.

“I’ve managed to get into the access logs for both your email and Myspace accounts,” he tells her. “There are two sets of IPs that have accessed both accounts in the last week, but both are eduroam IP addresses.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that whoever is uploading those photos is doing so from the university.”

The revelation hits her like a punch to the gut, she feels paralysed, unable to speak as his words sink in. A part of her had wanted to believe it was Jake. To think there is someone at the university who is doing this to her makes her feel nauseated. Her mind races with the possibilities of who it could be. Felix? India? Farleigh? What reason could any of them possibly have to want to do that to her?

“What should I do?” She asks worriedly, staring at Michael with her brows pinched together. “Do you think reporting it would help?”

He swivels his chair fully around to face her and shakes his head. “Not if you intend to keep your scholarship. Rocking the boat over leaked nudes won’t look good to the university board, they’ll take issue with the fact that you even took those photos in the first place.”

“So I just have to let this keep happening?” She feels her throat tighten, wetness rims her eyes.

“Change your passwords,” he says matter of factly. “A different one for every account.”

She nods, expelling a shaky breath, before standing. “I should probably get going. Thank you…for everything.”

Before she goes to bed that night, she changes her passwords - a different one for every account she owns, and deletes the newest uploaded photo, returning her profile picture to its original state.

As far as she is concerned, that should be the end of it. However, her breath hitches, icy cold fingers of fear gripping her heart when she logs on the following morning. Not only has her profile picture been changed to another photo from the set she’d taken for Jake, but the “about me” section now reads “vapid cunt”.

On autopilot, she dresses, taking her laptop and walking the six minutes from Christ Church Halls to Brasenose College.

As soon as Michael’s door opens, she flings her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He stiffens, not returning the gesture, until she finally pulls away.

He straighens, adjusting his glasses. His hair is rumpled from sleep, clad in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms.

“God, I’m so sorry, I woke you up,” she says tearfully, “I should go. I didn’t think, I just–”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly, ushering her in.

She sits down on the bed. It’s unmade, still warm from where he’s been sleeping in it. The feeling sends a shiver down her spine, despite her emotional distress.

Gingerly he sits next to her, keeping a respectable distance as she removes her laptop from her bag and opens it. “It’s happened again. I did everything you said to do, but it’s happened again, and it’s worse this time. Look–”

Handing him the laptop she shuffles closer to him, her thigh pressed against his. She can feel the warmth of him through her leggings. It causes butterflies to flutter in her belly, it’s been so long since she’s been this close to anyone.

Michael doesn’t stiffen at her touch this time, whether it’s because he doesn’t mind it or is too distracted by what he sees on the screen, she’s unsure, but it’s progress.

“Hmm. And you’re sure you changed your passwords?”

“Yes, all of them. I don’t know what else to do. If I report it, I risk my scholarship, but if this carries on I’ll lose it anyway, because how can I concentrate when this keeps happening?”

He says nothing, closing her laptop and passing it back to her.

“I’ve worked my arse off to get here, to earn my place, this can’t be what ends it,” she says miserably, tucking her computer back into her bag.

“I’d suggest focusing on your studies and less on your peers,” Michael says matter of factly. “You haven’t made the best choice of friends since arriving here.”

“They’re not my friends,” she whispers, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “At least not anymore. Do you think it’s one of them doing this?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he replies bitterly, “stay away from them. I’ve got a lecture this morning, but maybe when I’ve got some downtime, I can do a deeper dive, perhaps see if I can track the logins to a device type.”

“You’d do that for me?” She whispers, looking at him with eyes full of appreciation.

“That’s what mates are for, right?”

“Thank you…just…thank you,” she tells him with sincerity, holding his gaze.

She reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, desperate to kiss his cheek as a gesture of her gratitude, but remembers the first time she’d done it and cringes inwardly. Though Michael’s hand doesn’t clutch back, he doesn’t move it away and, after a few moments, she realises they’re simply sitting holding hands, looking into each other's eyes.

He is beautiful in his own way. His stare, though intimidating, is piercingly blue, and his lips are soft and plump. She swallows, lashes fluttering in embarrassment when she realises she’s staring at his mouth.

Chancing her luck, she leans in, planting a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’ll be back at lunchtime, okay?” She whispers, before standing and moving towards the door.

He simply nods, fingers raising to brush over the spot where she’d kissed him. The sight puts a spring in her step for the rest of the morning, almost enough to forget about her being hacked. Almost.

She stops at a vending machine in the rec room on her way back to Brasenose at midday, deciding to buy Michael a Crunchie, an additional thank you for him going out of his way to help her.

As awful as having her privacy violated has been, she is grateful that it has brought her and Michael closer together. She had started the term wanting nothing more than to be his friend, and had royally fucked it up.

Now it seems they have mended their rift, and the prospect of being more than just friends is on the cards. Admittedly, he isn’t her usual type, but there is something about him that excites her. She hopes that once this is all over, this can be a fresh start for her at Oxford; her and Michael, just the caliber of intelligence she had wanted to associate with when she’d first applied.

She knocks at his door, hesitating when he doesn’t open it.

“Michael?” She calls out, brow furrowing in concern when he doesn’t answer.

They’d agreed upon lunchtime to meet, where was he? She tries the door handle and it’s unlocked, gingerly she pushes it open, peering slowly inside. He’s not there, but if he’d left it unlocked then he’d surely be back soon and wouldn’t mind her waiting inside for him.

She steps into the room, finding it much the same as before, only this time the bed is made. Walking over to the window by the desk, she stops to admire the view of the church, startling slightly when her bag knocks the computer chair, disturbing the mouse and taking Michael’s laptop out of sleep.

As she is about to turn back to the window, she notices her Myspace profile is open in edit mode in his browser. She frowns, a feeling of unease washing over her, as she steps towards the desk, her hand trembling as she reaches for the mouse.

She minimises Internet Explorer, gasping when she sees a folder open on his desktop, filled with the photos she had sent to Jake, all of them, even the ones that hadn’t yet been set as her profile picture.

Her heart pounds as she selects all of them, deleting them before clicking on the recycling bin to empty it.

“You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to not create back ups, did you?”

Turning, she sees that Michael has returned, so quietly she hadn’t noticed. His fingers clutch at the USB stick that’s clipped to his cargo shorts, lips turned up into an expression of smugness.

Tears prickle her eyes, as her heart lurches, the only word that escapes her is “why?” as she looks at him with arched brows, her face pinched into an expression of emotional hurt.

“Why?” He repeats, cocking his head, advancing towards her as she shrinks back into the corner. “Because someone needed to take you down a peg or two.”

“You’ve ruined my life!” She cries, tears slipping down her cheeks, looking at him in disbelief.

This has to be a dream, it is too surreal. Any moment now, she’ll wake up and all of this will have been a terrible dream.

Only it’s not, it’s real, real as the heat of his breath that fans across her face as he looms over her, having backed her fully into the corner between the desk and the window. 

“What life? Pretending to play a part with people that don’t really like you? Using your pretentious choice in reading material to make yourself seem intelligent?”

“You don’t know anything about me!” She says defiantly.

“Oh, I know all about you. Hiding your scholarship from those vapid cunts, so they won’t sniff out your working class background and drop you. The variations of John Browning as your password - adding a different number to each variation doesn’t make it a different password, stupid girl.”

“I was nice to you…” She offers feebly, almost pleading with him.

He smirks, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gripping harshly, forcing her to look at him. “You felt sorry for me. But it’s not me that needs pity, is it? It’s you. Poor little scholarship slut. You love that My Last Duchess poem so much because you see yourself in it, don’t you? Think you’re being objectified, treated unfairly. Well, let me tell you something, you are like that poem, but in the sense that you’re better in pictures than you are in real life.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, trying to pull away from him.

“Truth hurt, does it?” He asks, his grip on her face remaining tight. “That’s a pity. I enjoyed those pictures, really enjoyed them. It’s a shame the real life version is so whiny and pathetic.”

“I’ll report you,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I don’t think you will, somehow. You love the attention,” he tells her, dropping his hand from her chin to her shoulder, turning her and backing her up towards the bed. “I’ve seen how you look at me. If I wanted to fuck you right now, you’d let me.”

“I–I wouldn’t!” She stammers, feeling her face grow warm.

With a gentle shove from him, she topples back against the mattress, and he is quick to move over her, caging her in. “Liar,” he whispers in her ear.

She shudders at the sensation, despising the way her body betrays her, as heat pools between her legs. She shouldn’t be turned on by this, yet she can’t deny the way he sets her pulse racing.

“I haven’t ruined your life, but I could and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” He hisses.

The weight of him on top of her, his warm breath fanning against her neck, it’s dizzying. She wants to tell him to get off of her, to push him away, yet she cannot find it in herself to do so. There is a part of her that’s curious to see how far he’ll push this.

When she doesn’t say anything, he carries on, nimble fingers moving to the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down. “I’m going to treat you like the desperate, little slut that you are, and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

She whines, lifting her hips as he rids her of the bottom half of her clothing.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks.

His gaze falls between her legs, tentative fingers reaching out to brush through the wetness that has gathered there. She sees a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and wonders if he has ever done this before.

She knows his moment of hesitation would be enough for her to push him away, grab her clothes and report him, yet she feels compelled to stay. If this is his first time, then she wants it to be her. She enjoys the dynamic of the power he has over her, while simultaneously being able to take something from him.

Wanting to bolster his confidence, urge him to continue, she sits up, eager hands unfastening his belt and unzipping his shorts. It flips a switch inside him, and he’s surging forward once more, pinning her beneath him as he pushes his boxers down just enough to free his cock.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasps against the shell of her ear.

“I want this,” she mewls desperately, feeling the head of him resting at her entrance.

“You’re going to keep letting me do this to you, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll wear that tarty underwear from your photos for me, won’t you?”

“...yes.”

He presses forward and is met with resistance, not having fully prepared her. He draws back and pushes against her again, repeating the motion until he’s fully sheathed inside of her. It’s exquisite torture, a pleasurable hurt to be split apart by him, to feel so full.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he stills and she can feel his inexperience in the way that he tenses, but isn’t prepared to give up when they’ve already come this far. She rolls her hips against his, a breathy sigh escaping her as she feels her sweet spot rub up against the head of him.

He screws his eyes shut, jaw going slack, before beginning to move his own hips, pulling back to slam forward once more, quickly finding a rhythm that suits him. This isn’t careful, considered lovemaking, they rut against each other like animals, both of them allowing instinct to guide them as they seek out the movements that feel most pleasurable.

She clings tightly to him, meeting him thrust for thrust, their breaths coming in hot, shallow pants.

“Fucking knew this was all you needed,” he mutters, “someone to teach you a lesson, see you for what you really are.”

“Please,” she whimpers, her hands sliding down to his backside to push him in deeper, causing him to groan.

“F–fuck,” he stutters, picking up his pace when he feels her start to tighten around him. “Tell me you’re mine, you don’t need anyone else, just me.”

“‘M yours,” she gasps, pushing her hips against his, zeroing in on the precipice she is about to fall from.

A particularly harsh thrust is the final shove she needs, and white hot waves of euphoria wrack her body, as she cries out in ecstasy. Suddenly, Michael is withdrawing, leaving her to clench around nothing as he paints her inner thigh with sticky warmth.

He collapses beside her, and she stares into the lightly fogged lenses of his glasses, their noses bumping together.

“Are you still going to ruin my life?” She asks, hazy with pleasure.

For the first time, their lips meet, a messy clash of tongue and teeth, that’s sloppy and wet, their breaths still heavy and movements uncontrolled. 

“You’re going to let me,” he whispers when they finally break for air, “because you’re mine.” Resistance is futile, she will let him. She wants this, needs this. After all, Michael Gavey is the type of person she came to Oxford to associate with in the first place, and she’s gotten exactly what she asked for.

Part two || Series masterlist

[quibbs126]

So I’ve been making this

So basically last night, I was listening to some music, specifically Not Gonna Die by Skillet, more specifically a version on YouTube with the intro (because I’m not the biggest fan of Good to be Alive where the intro actually is). Anyways, when it’s night, my imagination tends to be more active and I tend to have more energy. While listening to the song, I eventually got this mental image in my mind of this scene with Dark Choco, and the more it crystallized the more I wanted to draw it. I was going to go to sleep and maybe do it in the morning, but I realized that I probably would forget the vibe and not have as much energy, so instead I decided to power through and draw the idea

It was a bit difficult since I had limited references for the pose I wanted, and I suppose I can admit the sword looks a bit off anatomically, but it looks good enough I think, and lets me keep the eyes revealed

I did eventually have to stop drawing, because my iPad had been worked all the way down to 4% (and it was at 30% when I started, the poor thing), not to mention it was around 11:30 already which is pretty late for me, and my earbuds had been running nonstop for over 2 hours (yes I was listening to the same song, it’s how I keep the vibe). I was at least able to get the pose, base colors and lineart done, and I’m still pretty proud of where I left things last night

Today was mostly just doing the background and lighting, which admittedly I may have fumbled. I’m not very good at backgrounds and I didn’t know how to draw lightning. I tried my best, but honestly I don’t think I got the image in my head. Didn’t help that my brain was playing the wrong Skillet song this morning

Oh yeah and by the way, the background is supposed to be from this. That’s what I used as reference

The lightning both feels like too much and too little. Like, it’s crowding the picture, and I can’t have more because it’d be way too crowded with it, but also at the same time, it doesn’t feel like enough, like there isn’t as much power as I wanted

Actually wait, maybe I can add some small particle effects to like, enhance the lightning feel. That was in the original sketch but I omitted it in the final. If you see one with that, you know I did that

Edit: I did indeed do that

To be fair though, I don’t think I have the art skill to properly convey the image in my head. Basically the scene is that Dark Choco is using absolutely every amount of his power for this final swing down, so much that it’s too powerful and the Strawberry Jam Sword completely shatters. But also it’s too powerful that Dark Choco’s body simply can’t handle it, and he basically ends up exploding. The scene depicted would be the wind up to that final swing that destroys the both of them

This isn’t necessarily the first time I’ve come up with this scenario, and the setup would basically be that he turned on the Cookies of Darkness slightly earlier, because he didn’t want to destroy his homeland again, and he tried to get rid of them while in the kingdom but not yet at the Citadel, but he ended up failing, so with nothing to lose, he chases after them and decides to put everything into destroying them, even if it likely ends in his death. After this he probably killed Pomegranate and crippled Licorice in some way (I don’t think he’d attack Poison Mushroom), so his final act did have some effect, but he’s still dead by the end of it. And he and his father never got the chance to properly reconcile because Dark Choco thought that could never be a possibility anymore and he had resigned himself to his fate

But yeah, I just don’t know how to convey that sheer overwhelming power and emotion that this scenario suggests. I tried my best though

I also want to submit this to the Dark Cacao Forever contest, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough for it. What do you think?

[jpmarvel90]

Sacrifice

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Word Count: 5148

Relationship: Sister Nat & Sister Yelena x Reader Wanda x Reader

Summary: Y/n has been haunted since she watched Natasha fall to her death on Vormir. Her own grief is only intensified when Yelena finds out and shifts blame to the one person that wished it was her who had made the ultimate sacrifce.

Y/n's POV:

Coming home from Vormir without Nat was the most heartbreaking moment of my life. Seeing our sister Yelena's reaction added to the pain that I was already feeling. When Clint, Nat and I arrived at Vormir, none of us thought we'd be leaving as a duo. As soon as the realisation hit, I knew it had to be me. Clint had a family and the world needed Natasha. I was the obvious choice.

But Nat had other ideas. She had to be the hero. Whilst her and Clint were fighting, I took the opportunity to go myself. But Nat stopped me at the last minute. My feet were off the ground as I jumped, I was content with my decision. But my stubborn sister had to be the hero. She was able to grab me at the last minute and use her strength to switch our position.

I still had a hold on her hand, but she was out of reach from Clint, so it was reliant on me to be able to pull her up. That was made even more difficult by the fact that Nat didn't even try. My eyes were filled with tears when I realised that I wouldn't be able to save her. "You can't leave us. Yelena needs you. I need you!" I begged her, a sob getting caught in my throat. "It's ok. You'll be ok." She tells me but I shake my head, tears continuing to fall. I try once again with all my strength to pull her back up. "Let me go." She whispers before kicking off the wall. I can still see her body falling as I failed to save her. The world lost a hero that day and Yelena and I lost our sister.

It never should have been Nat. She was the true hero that carried on fighting when so many gave up after the snap. She gave her life to rectifying the wrongs she was forced to do whilst in the Red Room. Her ledger was already clean, and she deserved the chance to be able to have a normal life. To not have to fight any more.

After the battle was over, we were reunited with our family and friends that we had lost five years ago. I hadn't only lost Yelena, but my girlfriend Wanda too. It had been hell, and it was the reason I stuck by Natasha and worked tirelessly with her to find a way to bring everyone back.

However, telling them both the news was almost as devastating as the moment I saw Nat die. Yelena was angry and couldn't understand it. Wanda was devastated too. Nat had been like a sister to her when she first joined the Avengers. She was hurting too. I tried to be there for them as best I could. I was still grieving myself, but I knew I had to be there for my sister and girlfriend.

It was hard as they both started to withdraw, spending more time together. They had a shared experience and found comfort in each other. I started to feel like an outsider and my relationship with Wanda was slowly becoming more distanced. Yelena rarely spoke to me. Until she uttered the most devastating words at Nat's funeral. "It should have been you." There was a venom to her words and I could see that Wanda agreed. It made everything more painful as they were true. It should have been me. No one needed me. But Natasha Romanoff, everyone needed her.

Life at the compound become more difficult by the day. Those of us left signed to work with the government to keep the world safe from another situation like Thanos. There were rumblings that Hydra had resurrected, so most of our missions focused on wiping out anyone who posed a threat.

During this, my relationship with Yelena became non-existent. Any words said in my direction were said with hate. It got so bad that Fury could no longer put us on the same missions as he couldn't guarantee my safety from my own teammate, my own sister.

Wanda never officially broke up with me, but she moved out of our shared room and no longer spared any time for me. If I walked into a room, she was quick to leave. The love we once had seemed to have vanished when Nat died. Each day, it just reiterated why it should have been me.

So, I decided that I had to find a way that I could bring Nat back. No matter what the consequences might be. I spend a lot of time in the library working out if there was anything I could do that might be able to make everything right again. Though one phrase keeps coming up. "A soul for a soul." It's what's the Red Skull had told us when we were on Vormir, could that be a replacement for a soul already sacrificed.

I decide that's where I need to start. A trip back to Vormir and a conversation with the Red Skull will hopefully set me off on the way to bringing Nat back. I just need a distraction for everyone here so I can "borrow" a quinjet and make the journey. "Hey Y/n, we're going to have a team evening together. Maybe go for a couple of drinks, want to join us?" Bucky calls out after knocking on my door.

"Are Yelena and Wanda going?" I ask as I open the door. He looks at me sympathetically and nods. The rest of the team have been a little distant with me too. Not that I blame them. They're closer to Yelena and Wanda so I don't expect them to insert themselves into the middle of whatever shit show of a relationship we have.

"I'll give it a miss tonight. Thanks, though Buck. Have a great time." I tell him with a tight lipped smile. "You ok Y/n?" He asks me, taking me by surprise. "Oh yeah. I'm good. Thanks for checking in. I appreciate it." I respond. He nods and goes to turn before stopping and looking back. "How about on Friday, you me and Sam all go out together. Make a night of it. I know you've been a little isolated recently. I'm sorry for that." He suggests. "Oh uh. Thanks Bucky, sure that would great." I agree and I see him smile. "Great, we'll sort something out." He smiles and heads off.

This gives me the perfect opportunity. If they're all out, I can start to bring my sister back. I take a bit of time getting everything in order just in case I don't come back. I leave a message for Nat, hopeful that she might be able to see it one day. I considered leaving one for Yelena and Wanda, but they won't care. They'll be happy that the right person is with them.

I hear them all leave about 6pm so I gather a few of my things and head out. One of the few skills I'm grateful for from the red room is my hacking ability. Hopefully, by the time Shield realise the jet is missing, I'll be long gone. I'm weirdly not nervous as I board the quinjet. I feel a sense of hope. I know this is the right thing to do and I just pray that I'll be able to pull this off.

When I finally reach my destination, I take the familiar walk up to the top of the cliff. I get flashbacks of the last time I was here. The last time I was with my sister. I can still hear the conversations we had as I reach the top. I familiar figure waiting for me.

I take a deep breath and make my way forward as the figure turns to face me. "Ah, Y/n Y/l/n, I wondered when I would see you again."

Wanda's POV:

This night out with the team was much needed. Since everything with Thanos, it's been difficult to find the light. We lost a lot and we're still healing. I was surprised when I felt a pang of disappointment when Bucky came to us without Y/n in tow. Not that I'm surprised, we've not exactly made a welcoming space.

I especially have been bad with her. She's my girlfriend after all, but I just let my grief consume me. Add on the confusion of missing out on five years of life, it's just been difficult to make sense of it all. Yelena was the only one who knew how I felt and it was easier to be with her than Y/n.

But now I realise what I'm missing. The support and comfort of the woman that I love. I was stupid to let myself become influenced by Yelena. I started to feel her anger, but mine wasn't directed at Y/n. It was the situation. It just became my outlet as I had nowhere else to direct it. Which is completely unfair on Y/n. She was grieving herself and lost Yelena and me on top of it.

"I'm going to check on Y/n." Bucky tells us when we arrive home, earning a huff from Yelena. "Why do you care?" She snaps. "Because she has become isolated and it's not fair. I shouldn't have let it go on for so long." He defends. "Maybe she deserves it! If it wasn't for her, Natasha would be here." Yelena bites back. "ENOUGH!" Clint shouts, stepping in front of Yelena.

"I promised Y/n I wouldn't get involved, but I can't stand here anymore and let you talk like this. Y/n tried everything to save Nat. She had to watch as she slipped from her fingers after doing everything for it to be her. Y/n had wanted to make the sacrifice herself. So please just stop. If you don't want to be around her or have her in your life, fine. But this bitching needs to stop." He scolds the young Russian. Yelena doesn't respond but lets her head hang low for a moment. "I'll join you Bucky." Clint responds, following behind Bucky.

I should go with them. But when I take a step, Yelena looks to me. "I need more vodka." She huffs, taking my arm and moving us into the kitchen to get a drink. But before she's able to drink the shot she's poured, FRIDAY makes an announcement. "Director Fury has request everyone's attention in the conference room immediately."

"Cyka." Yelena huffs, quickly taking the shot and making her way to the meeting room. I follow behind and see Bucky and Clint return but without Y/n. I don't question it, instead I take a seat next to Yelena. "Would one of you like to explain where the quinjet is?" He asks, his tone flat. "No idea. We've all been out for a team meal." Sam explains. "Was Y/l/n at this meal?" Fury asks after noticing her absence.

The silence provides his answer. "That would explain the encryption on the tracking." Fury sighs. "Wait, you think Y/n has taken the jet?" Clint asks, giving Bucky a worrying look. "Well, considering she's the only one not here and only two people in this team have that ability to hack the quinjet like that." He responds and we all know the other is Yelena.

"This is not good. Do you think she's actually done it? That she found away?" Clint whispers to Bucky who matches his concerned look. "Do you know where the jet was heading?" Clint directs to Fury who shakes his head. "No, she's hidden the location." He replies. "Shit." Clint mumbles. "Something you'd like to share?" Fury questions him. Clint doesn't respond but pushes a piece of paper towards him.

Fury takes it and I see a sadness flash across his face. My heart rate picks up a little and the regret of how I have treated Y/n these last week's grows tenfold. I selfishly thought she would always be there waiting for me for when I was able to get passed this grief.

"Ok, let's go. Hopefully we can catch her before she does something stupid." Fury moves to leave with no explanation. "Would someone like to explain what is going on?" Yelena asks angrily. "Considering you haven't cared about Y/n's wellbeing recently, I'm sure you don't care now." Clint snaps and I see a flash of hurt on Yelena's face. "We don't have time for this." Bucky steps in, bringing the focus back to the situation at hand.

Mindlessly, I follow behind the others towards the quinjet. I have no idea what's going on, but from the panic in both Clint and Bucky's eyes, I know it can't be good. "You're going?" Yelena reaches out to grab my arm and spin me around. "You're not? She's your sister Yelena. I know you're angry at her, but it seems like you might lose her too. It's a loss I know that I won't cope with." I respond, snatching my arm from her and running to the jet.

"Co-ordinates set to Vormir." Clint tells Fury as the jet takes off. Hearing those words sends fear through my body. Why would she be going there? This fear and sickening feeling just grows as we get closer to our destination. The rest of the journey is in silence before the jet touches down.

Cautiously we all disembark and my eyes instantly land on the quinjet a few metres away. "This way." Clint instructs, directing us towards a worn path up to the top of a cliff. As quickly as we can, we start off to reach our destination. Though I don't think any of us expected the sight that was waiting for us.

In this moment, I feel like my heart is in my mouth. My emotions overwhelm me as I see the person that I had been grieving for. "Natasha?" Yelena whispers in shock as our eyes land on a familiar red head in front of us. I wipe at my own eyes, not believing what I'm seeing in front of us. Nat turns around with a confused look on her face as she looks over us. "You're really here?" Yelena says as she rushes forward and wraps her arms around her sister.

My own gaze then moves around trying to find Y/n. She has to be around here somewhere. "What happened? How am I here?" Nat asks once we've all greeted her, plenty of tears shed between us. That's when I notice the sadness in Clint and Bucky's eyes. "Clint?" I ask, panic building within. All he can muster is a whisperer sentence. "A soul for a soul."

Natasha's POV:

The last thing I remember was being in this odd space between reality and wherever I was due to move onto next. I was aware I was dead, and it seemed like I was just waiting. For what, I'm not sure. But I certainly hadn't expected that I would find myself back on Vormir. I knew time had passed. I just don't know how much time.

I look over the edge of the cliff as flashbacks from that day replay in my mind. I jumped. I stopped Y/n from doing it and I jumped in her place. I died, making the sacrifice so we could get the soul stone and beat Thanos. Had we beat Thanos?

I don't get time to really take it all in as I hear footsteps behind me. I quickly turn, getting in my fighting stance ready for whatever might be coming my way. However, my question is soon answered when I see two faces that I've not see in five years. Within seconds Yelena has wrapped her arms around me and is holding me close. I take comfort in her arms and look around for our other sister, desperate to hold her too.

After greeting everyone, I ask what had happened and that seems to bring a sadness to Fury, Bucky and Clint. When Wanda pushes Clint, he simply states, "A soul for a soul." I don't understand what he means, we already did that to get the soul stone in the first place. "What do you mean? Where's Y/n? Is she back at the compound?" I ask, not getting a good feeling about my sister not being here for this reunion.

"Let's get back home and we can share what we know." Clint suggests, guiding us back towards the path. Yelena and Wanda both stick close to me. Yelena seems delighted, but Wanda has a darkness around her. A worry that I don't understand. But I fear it is related to Y/n. "How long has it been?" I ask, wanting to get some sense of the time that has passed. "Three months." Yelena responds. "It felt like we had only been gone for seconds but in that time, I had lost you." She adds on, turning to me and pulling me into a hug once again. I've never seen Yelena this vulnerable before, so I just hold her that bit tighter.

When we reach the quinjet, I notice that there are two which takes me by surprise. "I'll take this one back. Then we'll meet to discuss moving forward." Fury explains, to which Bucky nods. "Not that I'm complaining, but is anyone going to explain how I'm back?" I ask, getting a little frustrated. They all look at each other until Clint speaks up. "We actually have no idea, but we think it has something to do with Y/n." He responds, before turning to enter the jet, preventing me from questioning him further.

My mind is so confused right now. It still feels a little hazy as we fly back to the compound. I have so many questions and I can't quite make sense of what is happening right now. As grateful as I am to be with my family again, I want to understand why. Is this temporary? Will I end up back in the middle place again?

When we arrive back home, I aimlessly follow the others to the conference room. "You go and rest Natasha, we'll give you any updates as needed." Yelena instructs me but I shake my head. "I want to know how this has all happened, especially if it's got something to do with Y/n." I reply, continuing on my journey with the others. I hear Yelena mumble something under her breath and she doesn't look too happy, but ultimately doesn't stop me.

I take my usual seat in the conference room, and I realise that the others are in a state of shock. They are all staring at me as if I'm going to disappear at any moment. "Where's Steve and Tony?" I ask, noticing two very empty spaces in the room. They take the time to talk me through what happened after they returned with all the stones. Knowing that Tony sacrificed himself for the greater good brought a tear to my eye. But I'm grateful that Steve was able to get his second chance with Peggy.

Now we come on to the more difficult conversation of how I happen to be back on earth, very much alive. "Bucky and I went to check on Y/n but she didn't answer. FRIDAY notified us she had left the compound but that she had blocked her location. With the door unlocked we went in and that's when we found that note." Clint explains as Fury nods along. "That would work with the timeline of the quinjet going missing. She obviously waited for you all to be out of the compound so she could do what she needed uninterrupted." Fury responds.

"What note?" I jump in, still confused about what is going on. Did Y/n really steal a quinjet? Why would she do that? Fury moved his hand into his inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a note before handing it to me. I open it up and I feel both Wanda and Yelena peer over my shoulder.

Maybe this time I can make things right. I'll make sure it was me. Take care of Nat.

I look up from the note to the others. Wanda is full on crying when she sees the words on the paper. Yelena won't make eye contact whilst both Bucky, Clint and Sam look like they're grieving. "What does this mean? What does she mean by making sure it was her." I question, wanting to get some semblance of what is going on. This looks like a suicide note.

I start to get frustrated when no one answers me. In fact, they all make the effort to not meet my eyes. "Someone tell me!" I shout, banging my hand to the table making them flinch. "Yelena?" Clint speaks, raising an eyebrow at her. I turn to face my sister who looks as white as a ghost. "Lena, what is going on?" I ask calmly, but again she doesn't respond.

"Her and Wanda have spent the last three months telling Y/n that it should have been her and not you. I guess she finally found a way to make that true" Bucky finally breaks the silence and my heart with it. "What?" I gasp, turning to look between the two of them. "Did you really say that to her?" I ask, shocked that Yelena could do something so horrible to Y/n. They've always been so close.

When both of them fail to respond, I stand up ready to leave. I can't believe this. "Natasha wait." Fury tries to stop me. "No! From what I can work out, these two pushed Y/n so far that she has killed herself to bring me back. That's what you're telling me without actually telling me isn't it." I snap, tears filling my eyes. "We don't know exactly what happened." Fury responds but I just scoff. "She stole a quinjet and flew to Vormir. You found me and Y/n was nowhere to be seen. I think we all know what happened." I retort.

Quickly turning to face Yelena and Wanda, I feel my anger build. "I'm so angry at you. It was my choice! I decided it had to be me. I had my chance at living and making things right. Y/n still had so much of her life ahead of her. She was in there longer than us Yelena. She had you, Wanda and she was happy. I couldn't take that away from her or you! I made the decision to jump because I thought that if it was Y/n, you'd be left without a girlfriend and you your favourite sister." I yell, jabbing my finger in the direction of Wanda and Yelena.

"Fuck! It was my choice! It was meant to be me. But now I hear that she's spent the last three months without anyone whilst she went through grief, being told it was her fault and she should have died. Her last three months were probably miserable, and you can't change that. She's gone. Y/n is dead. Do you realise that? She's not going to magically rematerialize. And it's all your fault!" I rant, anger and an overwhelming sadness taking over me.

At my words, I see the realisation hit Yelena and Wanda. Tears start to fall down their cheeks. "I jumped so she could have the life you promised me she would have. A life where she would be loved and protected. A life where you would never hurt her. But it couldn't be any further from the truth!" I spit at Wanda, venom lacing my tone.

"And you. How can you even treat our sister like that. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forgive you." I turn to Yelena, my heart aching knowing I've lost two sisters today. Not allowing them time to respond, I storm off to what used to be my room. Ignoring the calls from behind me.

When I reach the accommodation floor, I find myself stuck outside Y/n's door. My hand hovering over the handle. There is a part of me that is wishing this is some sick joke and I'll open this door to see her sat on her bed, drawing, or listening to music. That she'll actually be alive, and I won't have to face living in this world without my sister. The sister that gave me my humanity.

Slowly I push the door open, and I instantly get enveloped by her scent. Tears once again prickle at my eyes when I see the cold room is empty. Wanting to feel closer to her, I move further into the room and towards her desk where I spot a USB sat on an otherwise spotless desk.

Pulling her desk chair out, I sit and turn on her laptop. Letting out a teary laugh when I see the photo of her, Yelena, and I when we were drunk on a night out. We look the happiest we've ever been. It was one of the first times we'd been able to just forget about life all together and this photo represented that. I reach out and rest my fingers over her face. "Oh, moya malen'kaya sestra. (My little sister) I'm sorry I failed you." I cry as the thought of not seeing her again hits me.

Composing myself, I plug in the USB and open it to see there is only one file on it. A video file entitled "For Natasha." Hesitantly, I click on the file and let out a sob when I see Y/n's face appear on the screen. Straight away I notice that she's barely slept and there is a pain in her eyes I have not seen since we saved her from the red room.

Video message

Hey Nat. I really hope that you are watching this. If you are, it means that I finally did something right and managed to rectify the mistake that I made that day on Vormir. I never should have let you jump.

You see, the thing is about you Natasha, is you don't see your worth. You believe the trauma that you went through as a child is something that you must atone for, for the rest of your life. Despite telling Yelena, me and countless other widows how our actions were not our fault, you failed to allow yourself the same courtesy.

Since joining Shield and then the Avengers, you have done far more good than you ever did bad. Not that you had anything to make up for in life. You had every right to live a normal life, to try and move on from the horrors of your past. But instead, you set your mind to saving others who couldn't save themselves.

Don't tell the others, but you were the true hero of the Avengers. Your intentions were the purest. You were not blinded by money, fame, or righteousness. You were doing everything you could to try and drive out evil from this world. To stop others having to experience a pain like you did.

It's why I decided to jump. Why it should have been me that made that sacrifice. You had already given enough. It was your time to live your life in peace. If you had chosen to carry on your life as an Avenger, then so be it. But it would have been your choice.

The world needs Natasha Romanoff. Yelena, Clint, Shield, hell even my girlfriend, needed you more than me. It's why you never should have given your life that day. It's why I was the logical choice. The only choice.

Yes, hearing that being reiterated by people I love has been hard to hear these last few months. But it's the truth. It's why I tried so hard to find away that I could rectify that mistake and make the world right again. I think I finally have that answer now. A way that I might be able to bring you back. I pray that this works and maybe Yelena and Wanda can stop hating me. Not that I'll know, I guess.

I know that everyone will be able to move one without me in their lives. But you, well we know the world deserves and needs Natasha Romanoff. I just hope that I'm able to give it to them.

If you are sat watching this Nat. Please know how much I love you. You are the reason that I experienced freedom and free will for the first time. You gave me a family, a chance at love. All things that I thought I would never experience. You saved me in more ways than one and I will always be eternally grateful for that.

Being able to call you my sister has been the greatest honour Nat. I love you with everything I have, and I hope that one day, we may see each other again. In a life where there are no expectations of us. A life where we're free to live as we want. But before that time, live your life to the fullest. Enjoy it and have a vodka for me. Ya tebya lyublyu, moya sestra. Do svidaniya. (I love you, my sister. Goodbye.)

I feel the sobs wrack over me as the screen goes black. I feel grief wash over me in waves. It physically hurts to know that she sacrificed herself for me. For her to believe that this world needs me more than it needed her. She is a light that shone brighter than anyone I had ever met. But now that light is extinguished.

With my grief overwhelming me, I feel the sudden need to leave her room. Being surrounded by her things, knowing she'll never be here again is just adding to the pain. As I stand and turn around, I spot Wanda and Yelena crying in the doorway, clearly having overheard the video.

"Natash..." "Don't." I hold my hand up to stop Wanda straight away. "She needed you. Both of you. But you were selfish and put your own grief above hers. You could have supported each other. Grieved together, moved on together and had a life together. But instead, everything is ruined." I express, pain lacing my voice.

"Natasha please." Yelena practically begs, reaching out to take my hand but I'm quick to snatch it away. "No. As far as I'm concerned, I lost two sisters today." I state before barging past them both and to my own room. Quickly locking the door behind me.

I fall onto the bed, the whole day becoming overwhelming. I don't know where to go from here. How do I live a life that doesn't have her in it. How am I supposed to live like she told me to, when I can't share it with her. I feel at a complete loss. Of all the things I have sacrificed, my own life included, this was one I was too selfish to give. But have ended up losing anyway. 

[mayasaurusss]

In your arms.

Contains: angst sprinkled with a little bit of fluff, dissection of animal that can be read as gore (not intended to be read as such).

A/n: I channeled my anger and sadness into this, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Her heels dig in the cold coat of snow that covers the earth, breath quick and laboured from the fatigue that heavies her body.

Natalie wields the gun in her hands, eyes closed against the force of the wind. Her prey has just gotten away from her, leaving it's footprints in the snow; but the dark is descending and with that goes away the last possibility of a meal. Her hunger precedes her thoughts though, and before she can stop herself from dying of hypothermia, she continues.

The snow pools at her ankles, making it hard to continue walking, but she's hungry. She's so, so hungry. A branch breaks, resounding in the dead silence of the forest.

'There it is' something screams in her brain, 'to the right' and before she could hear the sound of the bullet firing, the body has already fallen on the ground.

A stag, a young one. Good enough to feed them for three days. Heavy, too heavy to carry all at once. Could make something out of it's fur and bones.

All the information floods Natalie's brain, the cold calculating matter helping her understand how to move, how to plan.

She drags the deer's carcass on a nearby tree, posing it at its roots. With her knife she carves an 'x' on it's bark; she reaches for a rope and ties it to the animal's corpse, heavies it with rocks so it can't be taken away by other creatures or entities.

She wants to tell herself that she doesn't believe Lottie's bullshit, but begin alone in a dark unknown forest at night sure does make a shiver run up her spine. With her knife then she separates the femur from the pelvis and cuts, propping the leg up her shoulder.

It feels heavy on her shoulders, but she must continue to walk. They rely on her, you rely on her.

When she finally sees the lights of the cabin Natalie is almost prompted to fall back into the earth, to finally let her life be taken by the Wilderness, but she continues. It feels like ages but finally she steps inside. Snow melts at her feet and wets the wooden floor of the cabin. It's hot inside, a welcomed feeling on her tired skin.

"Natalie!" you are the first to notice her, as you always were. Natalie falls to her knees, her bish exhausted beyond imagination. She's quickly embraced in your arms as people around her move and she falls asleep.

Hours later she wakes up in your arms. You're near the fire, everyone else is asleep around you two. You are the only one who is still awake. Your hand is combing knots out of her hair, drying them of the snow as best as possible. "Baby..." she mutters, snuggling near you.

You immediately look at her as soon as you hear her voice. "Natalie!" someone near you stirs at the sound of your loud voice, so you whisper to her ears. "Natalie, how are you? Is everything alright?" you notice a blush spreading on her cheeks as your hands check everywhere for wounds of any kind. "Y-yeah I am fine" she whispers, looking at you with adoration and love in her eyes.

"How did everything go?" you ask her and at your words she remembers the left over carcass in the snow. "The... The body is still there. We got to-" she is already about to move from the safe nest that is your arms, but you pull her back within you. "No, stay here".

"But we have to-!" she tries to fight against your hold but you're stronger than her and she falls right back into you. She's about to protest but you interrupt her before she can say anything, "No one requires anything out of you, Natalie".

As soon as she hears your words, something snaps and she collapses, limbs heavy as lead and heart wounded. All the muscles in her body have become soft and moving an inch proves to be a far difficult task than she imagined.

You are so nice, so lovley to her, and she doesn't deserve this.

"For tonight you can rest". She presses her nose into the cavity of your neck, searching in any way to be as close to you as possible, to melt into you.

Her stomach grumbles and all at once she's hit with hunger. Now she's conscious enough to take in the state of the cabin and the others. Everyone is asleep, only the sounds of their snores echoing in the space. Wooden spoons and bowls are scattered around the floor, not one drip or crumb of dinner left. The mouthwatering smell of meat shimmering on a pot filling the cabin from the outside.

"Has everyone already ate?" you move so that Natalie can sit up on her own. "Yes, but I wanted to wait for you" her grey eyes peer into yours, darkned by the dim light of the room. She looks worried, scared.

Scared that you might put her in the first place, scared that you might die of hunger, scared of everything. And you can see that hurt, that fear in her. The mask she has created these months is slowly crubling, revealing a terrified and tired person behind it.

"You didn't had to..." once again, her worries are shut by your words, "Of course I did". It's almost like she can't fully comprehend why you do this. Why you act like this.

You get up and get outside, where the wind is whipping at your skin. You fill two makeshift bowls to the brim with the remaining meat.

You give one to Natalie and sit back next to her, already dipping the spoon in. Meat floats above the surface of hot water, making Natalie nauseous.

"There were no mushrooms left, right?" she asks, reciving a small hum from you. She sighs, setting her hopes and complaints aside and digging her theet in the first bite of meat. It's cooked, no ounce of pink left inside, but flavourless. It tastes of wild, untamed animal. It's crude, it's hard, but she's hungry. The only source of flavour is the water, salted by the blood.

She would do anything right now to eat a god damned hamburger, or anything else for that matter, but her hunger is too hard to battle.

She could do with this. She has eaten worse.

"It tastes like shit!" you comment with a laugh, but neverteless continue to eat.

As the last drop of water falls into her mouth, Natalie sets the bowl aside, looking into the shades of the window. She can see the reflection of the dying fire outside, smothered by snow and wind. It looks so much like me, she thinks to herself.

Natalie would do anything in the world to be as far away from here as possible. She seeks refuge in her mind, in a made up world where there's just the two of you. She imagines a small house, in the countryside. It's just you and her, and maybe one or two cats. She'd name them after her favourite band's members. She's finally free from her addictions, no ghosts of the past haunting her or you. No father, no mother, no Jackie, no death. She can finally let that mask fall; she can finally feel like herself. She wakes up in your arms, hot and cuddled up against you. It's spring, there's no cold and the house is full of food. She is happy and safe.

"What a beautiful life would that be..." she sighs, running her hands over her eyes. It's surprising how quietly she falls, unable to stop the tears and hiccups coming from her. "Why isn't it true...?" the dark room is closing in on her, leaving her breathless and empty. But your touch becons her, like a warm light, like the north star guiding sailors into the vastness of the sea.

You look at her eyes: nothing needs to be said. Both of you know that the situation is dire, that it's unlikley you will see the end of winter. Natalie breaks when you kiss her, so tender and sweet that it makes her heart cry. She's the first one to talk; "I love you" she says, crying as you hold her face in your palms. "I love you too", it's the first time she ever heard you say those words, and even in the pain and hurt, she smiles. A feeling of relief, happiness, washes over her.

Maybe she will be okay. Maybe you will be okay.

"As long as we have each other, everything will be fine".