#I don't know if I'm going to force the reader to be American yet or not

[chimerickat]

"It's Kaiba-sama to you," he says with a sneer.

You ignore his tone knowing that you've spoken rudely even if you don't quite understand how. Surely he's just reacting to that. "I thought you used sama for the Emperor?"

"Are you an idiot?"

You stare at him, trying to figure out if he's attacking your Japanese knowledge or if you should know that he's part of the imperial family. Since you've established your poor Japanese already, you go with the second option. "So are you like a cousin or something?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down. He's silent for a moment.

Then Mokuba runs up to the two of you, holding his first place medal. He hugs you, and while you're sure that's inappropriate in any country, you pat his back as you try to take a step back.

Kaiba grumbles something that sounds like a curse. Then your brain translates it as, "Americans."

[salbei-141]

My girl (Wanda x reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

warnings: 18+, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, trauma, death, love confession, etc.

a/n: woah, first post of the year...almost 5 months into the year...wbk a schedule doesn't exist here.

So, there were a few things that made me realise I was bi and Elizabeth Olsen was one of them - can you blame me? So I propose this!

Also, y'all please if I get any lore incorrect do not come for me, I haven't watched Marvel in a while, and nor can I be bothered to rewatch them either, SUE ME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Wanda were best friends and had grown up together in Sokovia - your home country destroyed by the supposed American hero Tony Stark himself. You remember it as clear as day - being huddled between Wanda and Pietro. None of you moved, still as day, and terrified - it was a kind of fear you'd hope you'd never have to experience again. You remember the cries of Wanda as you held onto each other - you were just children at the time, it was a diabolical event to be forced to endure.

To this day you were unsure of what happened to your parents - you could only assume the same had happened to them as had happened to the Maximoff's parents, but you couldn't say for definite, and it weirdly gave you some sort of peace not knowing the brutality of how they had died - although you'd hoped it was quick and succinct in nature.

You were all in your 20s now, and yet not a year had gone by since that day where you'd forgotten the trauma of it all - it weighed upon your shoulders day in and day out like a parasite. What followed the bombing wasn't any better…you were mutants - or at least that's how some people had described you. You felt stronger now though - it felt freeing almost, there was little to fear now. However, nothing could save you from the memories…you, Wanda and Pietro still fell victim to your childhood trauma - especially Wanda.

"Wanda?" you walked into her room tentatively after hearing the soft sounds of her cries - it tore your heart into two, knowing the pain she was in, and more so that she was enduring it alone was hurting you in an indescribable manner that you always felt upon seeing her in any severity of distress.

She was led on her bed curled up like a child clutching onto a teddy you'd got for her Christmas several years ago - it warmed your heart that she still held it so closely and for comfort. You watched as her head turned slightly - her eyes were red and slightly puffy, but she said nothing to you as you stood at the door.

You closed her door silently and moved towards her tentatively as you sat on the side of her bed staring down at her with soft eyes. Moving your hand, you gently carded your fingers through her auburn locks, watching as tears silently rolled down her reddened cheeks.

You remained sat at the edge of her bed, and gently beckoned her into your arms, "Come here, I got you". Instead, she pulled you further onto her bed, so the both of you could get comfortable before she then sunk into the comfort of your arms as she continued to cry into your chest. You moved slightly to adjust to a more comfortable position with her in your arms, and felt as her grip tightened, "I'm not going anywhere…I'll never leave you Wanda". She looked up at you with desperate eyes, "Never?". "Never", you confirmed and kissed her on the forehead as you pulled her against your chest again, holding her with a conviction that you'd only ever designate to her.

You don't know how long had gone by, but Wanda still lay in your arms, having calmed down now. You had been gently running your fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, feeling as she'd occasionally shiver from your touch.

"Y/N?"

She looked up from your chest with those round, soft eyes that made you cave to her every request.

"Hm?"

You looked back down meeting her gaze, watching as she searched your eyes.

"Thank you."

Tucking a strand of her hair that had fallen across her face back behind her ear, you smiled softly, speaking in a whisper almost, "I'd do anything for you".

"I know", and she stared at you just adoringly as you had been staring at her - neither of you quite aware of the emotions that had transgressed the platonic relationship you both maintained - fearful of losing one another over the looming prospect of an unrequited love. How naive you both were.

You let your hand linger on the side of her face - never having drawn back once her hair had been tucked. Your fingers delicately caressed her cheek - feeling the way it warmed under your touch.

You watched intently as her eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. Should you? You didn't know, scared to ruin things and lose your best friend, but she was also the woman you'd grown to love - she was more than your friend, and she knew that too - you'd both been yearning for this for years – too naïve to notice one another’s loving gazes.

"please", her voice was quiet, meek almost, but you could hear the plead in her voice.

Her eyes looked into your own – begging for your attention, and that's when you'd had enough, you leaned forward – teasingly stopping just before her lips.

“Promise me…promise me we won’t go back to just friends after this…please Wanda”, you searched her eyes for any doubt, and you couldn’t identify anything – her pupils were dilated as she stared into your eyes.

Wanda closed the gap between the both of you, catching you off guard while you’d awaited an answer, but this was the best way she could’ve answered you. Her lips were soft and you were quick to respond to her. You could still taste the remnants of salt from her tears, which had been long forgotten as the both of you were entrenched in one another.

It was euphoric - the way her lips moved along with yours - it was better than any dream you'd ever had about her; the days you’d deafly listen to her as she’d speak in front of you, only for you to have been too busy watching the way her lips moved as she spoke, before turning into a grin as she’d realise you’d been in a word of your own.

You let your hand drift from her face down her arm – feeling the way her skin goose-bumped as your supple touch passed over the exposed skin of her arm until you rested it on her waist as she kept herself steady with her hands wrapped in your shirt.

A soft moan reverberated in her throat as you lightly gripped her waist more – a smirk plastering your face as you continued kissing her.

The both of you slowly pulled away fluttering yours open. Nothing was said as you both smiled at each other before falling into a fit of giggles as she buried her face in your chest and you in the nape of her neck.

“We’re idiots”, she mumbled against you, as she gently lifted her face to meet yours again – both laying against her pillows with little space separating you.

“I love you”, you couldn’t hold it in any longer as it blurted out of you. She knew you meant it – you’d never looked so serious about anything as you did now.

She leaned forward pressing her lips to yours again, “I love you too…I love you so much Y/N”.

You both stared into each other’s eyes – soft gazes lingering as you gently stroked her waist with your thumb.

“Now you can really never leave me”, she smiled at you – referencing your earlier comment back to you.

“I never planned on it anyway”, you pressed a kiss to her forehead, bringing her close to your chest as her arms wrapped around you. "My girl", you whispered into her ear hearing her hum in content as you proceeded to lay in each other’s hold in silence with the occasional kiss – the reality a surreal eutopia that you’d both thought unlikely.

[sewinrat]

What if the reader is Randal's twin sister that is always calm and quiet but yet more intimidating than the rest of the ivory household and is always abusing or scaring Sebastian?

It's just something I made up in my head! 😭

Only if you have the chance to do so, of course!

Hey I know I disappeared but I'm going to break my own rule to give you all content

*Reader implied to be female. Also this will not be a fic, just those headcanons thingy

Being Randal's More Intimidating Twin Sister;

Goodness, Randal would never have a boring day if he decides to watch your torture sessions daily

He definitely doesn't like how quiet you are but Nyen and Nyon are the same and he doesn't have a not-fun day watching them so he lets it be. But he's definitely forcing you everywhere with him. You are his twin after all and two is better than one as the humans say!

Clothing wise I'd say a Japanese school girl outfit with blazer and wearing gloves to match Randal's outfit. Honestly it doesn't matter what you want to wear as long as the colour is inverted of Randal's. White outfit and black gloves. You wear glasses but most often contact lenses. The feeling of them intrigued you but glasses are also usually a hindrance in your day to day activities.

The day when Luther gifted the both of you a human pet, you are ecstatic. Your face doesn't show but Randal knows and he's ecstatic as electric as well. Both of you have the dynamic of Maud and Pinkie that's why he can tell. The day after that is the day Sebastian the human pet learns true fear.

You are unnerving and rightfully so. Especially when you keep chasing after him with those garden shears. If Randal has scissors, you have bigger scissors. You like to snip snip Sebastian's body parts. Hair, legs, hand, you get the point. You won't necessarily kill him on purpose, only by accident but Luther will stop you when Sebastian's at the brink of death. Which he wished for more than escaping after weeks upon weeks of torture. Too bad Randal is enjoying this too much which encourages your behaviour.

More often than not, Luther had to tell you to clean up your mess after you finish your fun activity. He doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop you as well because in his words, who is he to stop his little sister discovering her hobbies and enjoying them.

Two peas in a pod the both of you. It doesn't matter how different you both are, you're still twins. If anyone knows anything about twins, is that somehow they have a deeper bond than with anyone else around them. If you mess with one of them, you have to deal with the other or together if you wanna get messy.

Nyen won't say it out loud obviously but he much prefers you over Randal if we're talking about violence and perfect fit to be the next heir if it ever comes to that. I mean obviously because we're speaking the American cat here. If he's 'lucky', you might spar him one on one. Nyon on the other hand definitely avoids you like the plague. Not a fighter and definitely does not want to be your next experiment but too bad for him, you're still above him in ranks.

Satoru won't favour you more than Randal but he'll definitely ask for your help to make him 'real' to which you happily complied. Remember that spider girl in Vol.2 and Avalona Mercury? Yeah they're your besties. Don't ask how but they just naturally are. Unless you're someone who seeks to pursue a relationship with one of them which I guess go off. No one really cares.

Known as well as the ratmen's worst nightmare. They wish to never come across you ever or else they're better off as a taxidermy head on top of a fireplace. Even if there's a slight chance they'll be let off uninjured, there's a high chance they'll end up getting owned or dead.

Wednesday Addams kinnie I just realised but hey maybe that's what you wanted.

Randal would definitely dragged you into his own mess by making you dress up as him and take the blame. Sometimes you let him do whatever he wants, other times he ends up bloodied.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "You've met my twin?! Oo! Oo! How are they?! Did you have fun with her?! She's really fun to play with especially with those shears of hers!" Excited to rant about his twin. Get comfortable or not because he can go on and on and on.

Luther: "Ah yes. She's quite a delight isn't she? I just wish she wouldn't leave such a bloody mess everywhere and anywhere she wants but oh well~ I can't stop her from enjoying what she loves doing." Dismissive yet acknowledged. Just don't get blood on the new carpet or curtains and you're good like you're avoiding angering your mother too much but brother instead.

Nyen: "Would love to fight against once. With her next in line, everything will definitely turn for the worst but it'll be very fun." Nothing else to say except he gives more respects to you than to Randal but won't admit it.

Nyon: Like I said, avoids you like the plague. It got to the point where he can't come up with an opinion on you because his mind goes automatically to 'avoid her alert'. That's not to say he hates you, he could never hate his master's family, he just rather not be under your torture sessions.

Sebastian: "Please don't tell me she's behind me." Shivering scared little thing. He likes his limbs to be intact 24/7 of course so even by the mention of you have his thoughts rapidly flashed the flight or fight instinct. But it's only flight no fight. He's not that bold.

Bonus! Tsukada Satoru: "Randal's twin is nice. She helps me when I needed her most especially when it comes to hurting. Glad to see her interacting well with those two." He's too much focused on Randal to care but since you're Randal's other half, his literal twin, he has to care enough about you.

[skzhua]

Episode two.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: Painfully obvious hate-flirting, some swearing.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: I changed the first part because it didn't match with the show so I recommend you go reread it if you read it in the first ten hours I posted it.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"What plan?"

You deadpanned at her. "From what I've seen last, you had something with Juliana, no?"

Her body stiffened and her hold on Dae, that was already tight enough, only got firmer. You and Yuri had some sort of forced friendship but it didn't mean you hated each other's guts. It was quite the opposite. She respected you, you respected her – it was a two-way thing. Still, she wouldn't be the kind to involve you in her problems but you weren't stupid. You knew of her and Juliana and this was beyond odd that she was so suddenly in a relationship with Dae.

"It's complicated." she said with a gulp. Seeing that you weren't convinced, she sighed. "I'll explain later, I promise."

She and Dae left and you found yourself alone so you joined Q again and were displeased to see that his friend had not left his side.

"And you're back." he sighed only to earn a glare from Q.

"Min Ho, stop that." You thanked mentally Q for informing you of his name. "Don't mind him, he's in a mood today." he tried to defend him but it clearly didn't work considering you rolled your eyes in a dramatic way.

"Do you want me to help you find your owner, little puppy? I think you're lost." he joked.

"Shove it in your ass, will you?"

Q held his hands up to separate the two of you while you were in a glaring battle. Thankfully, Kitty came back which only seemed to affect Min Ho's mood even more.

"Excuse me." she interrupted you.

"This girl treats Korean guys like Pokémon. She's trying to catch them all." Min Ho complained and you rolled your eyes again. "Not interested." he said to Kitty in a stern voice.

"Get over yourself, I'm looking for Dae." she replied harshly.

Q looked more confused than ever. "Okay, who are you?"

"I'm Kitty Song Covey."

The two men opened their mouths agape as if they suddenly had a revelation.

"You're Kitty?"

Her eyes grew bigger too and she pointed at Q. "Wait, are you Q? Track star, fellow American, heart of gold?"

He nodded happily. "Guilty as charged. I feel like we should hug right now, should we hug?

You weren't understanding a thing about what was going on but you listened nonetheless, curious on how they knew each other.

"Maybe later, I need to find Dae."

You laughed. "Okay, so you two are Dae's friends which is why she knows you and you know her?"

"You are unfortunately right, I think." Min Ho affirmed boringly and then looked at Kitty. "So you're the pen pal?"

She huffed. "If he's Q, then you must be Min Ho... Of course you are."

He shrugged as a smirk appeared on his face. You scoffed too which caught his attention.

"I told you I'm getting stalked."

"Oh, please. You just wish you were."

He came closer to you to hover over your small figure. "You're one feisty puppy, aren't you?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you looked up at him in silence, unsure of what you were supposed to say.

"Whatever. Where's Dae?" Kitty said, impatient.

You looked around with her and spotted him with Yuri as they were discussing with Jina. She thanked you and rushed to go to them.

"It's almost sad to see her go after him like that."

You grunted in frustration. "Do you ever shut up?"

Min Ho's smug face appeared once again. "Make me."

"Okay!" Q coughed awkwardly. "That's enough. How about we go meet some people, yeah?"

You heard a yelp from behind and turned around right away as soon as you recognized Kitty's voice.

"Oh, shit." you whispered to yourself and ran to her.

Before you could get to her, she slipped again and fell in the cupcakes. Dae was quick to come to her help but she brushed him off. She did, however, gladly accepted that you helped her get up before leading her outside.

Ending the night comforting someone you barely knew as you waited for the airline to answer her call was not what you had expected. School hadn't even started and, yet, there was already more drama than you could handle.

"Are you sure you want to leave? You said you weren't here just for a boy."

She shook her head. "I can't stay here and see him walk around with her. It's too painful."

"Yuri's my friend, I can talk to her."

"Don't. You're nice but I don't want to cause trouble to the two of you."

The front door of the dorm suddenly opened and went shut seconds later. You were about to get up to see what it was until you heard a voice you'd rather not recognize.

"Spill it!" Min Ho exclaimed. "When did you get with Yuri? And when? And how far?"

"And most importantly, why?" Q added.

"Dae, you little scammer!" Min Ho teased.

You cursed at yourself mentally. You should have guessed you were in the boy dorms as soon as you saw the gym bag in the other room. And to top it all, it had to be where Q, Dae, and Minho were staying.

Kitty joined you at the door to listen but you were already in the process of packing your things up. There was no way you were going to be living with men for an entire semester, even less if it involved Min Ho who had managed to make it to your hate list on your first encounter.

"No one's going to blame you for upgrading from a pen pal to an actual girlfriend." he continued to argue with Dae.

Kitty let out a scoff and her hand went up to her mouth when she realized they must have heard.

"Marius?"

"Good going, Kitty." you whispered to her and you both went to hide under your covers.

You heard them walk in and struggle for a bit to take the blanket off Kitty. They hadn't approached your bed yet. They screamed as they finally managed to get the covers off, revealing Kitty who was screaming as loud as they were. As they all ran outside of the room, you uncovered yourself and then followed behind. They were already in shock from Kitty's presence, yours wouldn't be a surprise at that point.

"Dae's crazy ex-pen pal broke into our dorm to murder us." Min Ho breathed out.

You walked into the living room, arms crossed. "For once, you don't blame it on stalking." you said and they jumped as they saw you, Min Ho holding a laptop up in defense.

Kitty got her file and shoved it to their faces. "This is my room."

"What about you?" Q asked you as he took Kitty's document.

"Same." you shrugged and watched Min Ho put the laptop away.

"You're listed as Song Covey." he said after reading the form.

"So?" Kitty frowned.

"Song can be a guy's name. That's why they assigned you to the guy's dorm." Dae sighed.

"That explains for her but Y/N?" Min Ho asked, eyeing you up and down in disgust.

"It might be because the girl's dorms are full or something, I don't know." you responded, unsure yourself on why you were there.

He took the document himself and read it only to sighed in exasperation. "They did this on purpose! To be closer to Dae, and me."

"And just when I thought you aren't so full of yourself..." you said in a whisper.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He shook his head. "I told you lot, she was hitting me on the plane ride here." He turned to you. "And she hit on me earlier."

"Alright, I'm done here."

You went back to your room and shut the door close. This day was overwhelming enough, all you needed was to sleep. You were going to fix the dorm issue tomorrow.

You woke up to Kitty opening your room's door carefully while she hung up on someone. You got up and tapped on her shoulder, making her almost scream in fear.

"Don't do that again, please." she said after catching her breath.

"You're leaving this morning?"

"Yeah..."

You nodded your head slowly. "I'm glad we met. Have a safe flight."

To your surprise, she hugged you tightly before walking around Dae, who had visibly slept at the door for the night, and went out of the dorm.

You went back to bed and scrolled through your social medias to see what was new. You came upon a video of Yuri's father who was scolding his employees. The next one was the same video but ended with lettuce emojis. You let out a laugh and opened your Kakaotalk.

Y/N: Your dad is going viral.

Yuri: I saw ㅋㅋ

Y/N: Good luck to them for fixing it all.

Yuri: Yeah, it won't be easy.

Yuri: I want to talk, by the way. About last night.

Y/N: You don't have to explain yourself. I'm happy you found someone, whoever it is.

Yuri: Thank you, that means a lot.

You were typing a reply but stopped when you heard someone knocking at your door.

"Kitty." Dae said in a pleading voice. "Me and Yuri, it's not real. It's all fake."

You gasped quietly. Although shocking, it wasn't that surprising considering it involved Yuri.

"Will you just open the door? I can explain everything, Kitty."

You grunted and shoved your pillow over your head. This whole thing had nothing to do with you and, yet, here you were.

"Begging is not a good look."

And he was awake now? Starting your day with your roommate running away, her boyfriend begging to talk with her, Min Ho mocking him... just great.

"I wasn't begging, I was just trying to get my pants." Dae said in defense.

Right, you forgot. This was originally his room.

"Listen, you squatter." Min Ho said, taking over Dae's spot as his voice seemed to be louder than it was seconds ago. "We have to get ready for the first day of school."

You didn't answer, wanting to stay in bed for a bit longer. Plus, if this meant that you were pissing Min Ho off by not opening the door, this was another reason not to do so.

"Don't make us late!" he said impatiently before pounding loudly on the door.

You saw it open by itself and self-noted to remind them that they might want to fix that. Because your bed wasn't directly in their view, they didn't notice you yet.

"And she's gone." Q sighed.

"Sweet."

"Dae, don't worry about it, we'll-"

He stopped talking when he saw that Dae left too. You groaned as you got off the bed which made them turn to face you.

"You're still here?" Min Ho asked dramatically.

"No, I left last night and what you're seeing right now is your imagination."

Q held back a laugh but Min Ho was not having it. "Whatever. I'm making coffee if you want some." he informed and went to the kitchen.

You and Q followed and you leaned on the counter. "Yes, please. I didn't know you were enough of a gentleman to offer me coffee."

He huffed. "This is called basic manners and because I'm not a monster, I could make you a cup."

"So thoughtful, Min Ho."

Q sighed. "This is painful to watch. I'm going to the bathroom real quick."

With that, he went back to his room which meant there was only you and Min Ho in the kitchen. The silence was almost unbearable but the sound of the coffee machine filled it a bit. But not enough to ease the tension.

"I hope you know I still don't want you here."

"Trust me, I don't want to be here either." you agreed.

"Good."

"Good."

And there it was again, the silence. Q joined you two and the coffee was finally ready. After serving you a cup, Min Ho sat down next to his friend and served him his.

"Have you two seen the news?" you asked and Q shook his head. "You might want to see it."

Min Ho took his laptop that he had previously used to threaten you and opened it for the three of you to watch the infamous lettuce video. You heard the front door open but you were too immersed in watching that you didn't budge.

"Dae, have you seen this video? It's kind of blowing up." Q yelled at to who you supposed was Dae.

"I bet Yuri is loving this drama." Min Ho added.

You hummed in agreement. "She is, for sure."

"I don't particularly care." you heard a voice that was too feminine to be Dae.

Turning around, you smiled. "Kitty!"

Min Ho whined in annoyance. "I thought you left."

"I did!" she nodded. "But then I decided to stay. And not that it's any of your business but this isn't all about a boy."

"Oh, sweetie." Q said as a way to comfort her.

You couldn't blame him, it did look as if she was trying to convince herself it wasn't.

"My mom went here, and, I don't know, being here makes me feel closer to her than I ever have. And-"

Her mood changed in a second and she squinted to look closer at the screen that was still playing the news.

"Dae's on TV?" she exclaimed loudly, confused.

You scooted away to leave her some space, not realizing you were almost fully leaning on Min Ho. He was about to push you away but you faces came close which cut his breath short. You saw his Adam's apple bop as he gulped in nervousness.

"... And, 'lettuce' move on." you heard Dae say which broke you out of your trance.

"Well played." Q chuckled.

"Oh my god." Kitty said out loud and pushed you away to see the screen even closer.

You fell onto Min Ho again and he rolled his eyes while helping you get off him. "Stop trying with me, little puppy."

You wanted to argue back but Kitty spoke before you could say anything. "He's faking it. That's a fake relationship!"

She took a step back and her eyes brightened as if she had discovered the biggest secret on Earth. Meanwhile, you debated whether to confirm her assumption or not. Because Dae literally said it when you woke up, that him and Yuri was a fake show.

Now, it was on you to decide what to do with this information.

taglist: @nanaspalette | @schniti-is-in-the-house | @bakugou-katsukis-wife | @soobin-chois

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[muiitoloko]

Bound by Chaos

Summary: In a relationship fueled by danger and chaos, you and Hans navigate a thrilling, toxic dance of power and control. Despite the constant clashes, your dark passions bind you together, creating an unbreakable yet destructive bond.

Pairing: Hans Gruber × Fem! Reader

Warning: Smut, Domestic Conflict, Manipulation, Weapon Use and Threats.

Author's Notes: So, creativity struck and I wrote this, but now that I've edited and read it, I'm starting to wonder if I might have created some big toxic mess? 🤔

Also read on Ao3

You and Hans were fighting again. It seemed like a constant in your relationship, the way you clashed like a dog and a cat. The bedroom was filled with the tension of yet another heated argument, your voices raised, each trying to outshout the other.

"Hans, I can't believe you think it's okay to take such risks!" you yelled, your frustration palpable. "Do you have any idea how dangerous your life is?"

Hans, his brown eyes flashing with anger, shot back, "And you think your life is any different? You're involved in just as many illicit activities as I am. We deserve each other, to be honest."

You both paused, breathing heavily, the reality of his words hanging in the air. It was true; both of you lived dangerously, involved in businesses that thrived in the shadows. There was a mutual understanding that your relationship was toxic, but neither of you cared at the end of the day. You thrived on the chaos and the danger.

"Don't you dare turn this around on me, Hans," you said, your voice lower but still seething with anger. "I may be involved in some shady dealings, but at least I don't go around putting our lives at risk for a thrill."

Hans laughed, a cold, mocking sound that sent chills down your spine. "You think I do this for a thrill?" he asked, his German accent slipping away to be replaced by a flawless American drawl. "I do this for survival, just like you."

"Survival?" you scoffed, crossing your arms. "You have a strange way of showing it. It's like you enjoy playing with fire, dragging us both into the flames."

Hans's eyes narrowed, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his intense gaze. "And you don't?" he challenged, his voice now taking on a British accent, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You love the danger just as much as I do. Admit it."

You hesitated, knowing he was right. There was a part of you that thrived on the adrenaline, the constant threat looming over your heads. It was a twisted kind of love, destructive yet addictive.

But you would die before admitting this to Hans, knowing that it would make you lose the argument. You glared at him, your jaw set in defiance. "Fine," you snapped. "If you're going to be that stubborn, sleep on the couch."

Hans scoffed, his tone dripping with condescension. "It's my house too," he replied smoothly. "If you don't want to sleep next to me, you go sleep on the couch."

You clenched your fists angrily, feeling the frustration boiling over as you watched Hans climb into bed. He made a show of stretching out, taking advantage of the entire space, mocking you with his every move. His brown eyes sparkled with amusement, and his lips curled into a smug smile.

Turning on your heel, you stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind you with a force that rattled the frame. Hans's mocking laughter echoed in your ears, fueling your rage. You paced the hallway, your mind racing with anger and the need to assert control.

A few seconds later, you returned, your eyes blazing with determination. Without hesitation, you straddled Hans, brandishing a gun that you pointed directly at his head. Hans didn't even blink, his self-confidence evident as he remained calm, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his intense gaze.

"Do you think you can intimidate me with that?" Hans asked, his voice low and mocking, his flawless German drawl returning.

You pressed the barrel of the gun harder against his forehead, your eyes locked onto his. "You think I'm playing games, Hans?" you hissed, your voice trembling with fury.

Hans's lips curled into a sly smile. "Oh, I know you're serious," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he switched to a British accent. "But you won't pull that trigger. You need me too much."

Your grip on the gun tightened, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "I don't need anyone," you shot back, your voice laced with venom. "Especially not a self-serving bastard like you."

Hans's hand moved slowly, his fingers gently brushing your thigh. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice taking on a seductive edge. "Then why are you here, straddling me, brandishing a gun, if not for the thrill?"

You hated how his touch sent shivers down your spine, how his words seemed to cut through your defenses. "Shut up," you growled, trying to maintain control.

Hans's smile widened, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement. "Admit it," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "You crave the chaos. You thrive on the danger. Just like me."

You felt your resolve wavering, the intensity of his gaze and the truth in his words cutting through your anger. But you couldn't let him win, not like this. "I won't let you drag me down," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hans's hand moved higher, his touch both soothing and infuriating. "Oh, but you already have," he said softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "And you love it. Just as much as I do."

You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the heat between you was undeniable. The gun trembled in your hand, your anger mingling with a dark desire that you couldn't ignore.

"Put the gun down," Hans whispered, his voice commanding and gentle at the same time. "And let's see where this takes us."

With a growl of frustration, you threw the gun aside, your lips crashing onto his in a fierce, desperate kiss. Hans's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the tension between you erupted into a whirlwind of passion and fury.

The line between love and hate blurred, the danger and chaos of your relationship becoming a powerful, consuming force. In that moment, you both surrendered to the darkness, knowing that it was what bound you together, what made you thrive.

And as the night wore on, the echoes of your argument faded, replaced by the raw, primal intensity of your connection. You both knew that this was your reality—a toxic, thrilling dance that neither of you could escape. But in the heat of the moment, none of that mattered. All that existed was the fire between you, burning brighter than ever before.

You broke the kiss, trailing kisses down Hans' jaw to his chest. He was shirtless, just wearing sweatpants, while you were still dressed in a nightgown, both of you having been ready to sleep when the argument had started. Your lips moved with a determined precision, tasting the salt of his skin as you descended further.

Hans’s breath hitched as you swirled your tongue around his nipples, knowing exactly how to make him react. But you didn’t linger there long, continuing your journey downward. His hands tangled in your hair, a silent command to keep going, his body betraying his desire despite his stoic facade.

When you reached the waistband of his pants, you glanced up, catching the glint of control in his brown eyes. He always seemed to maintain that cool, calculating demeanor, no matter how intense the situation. But tonight, you were determined to make him lose that control, to break through the sophisticated exterior.

You tugged at the waistband, your fingers brushing against the hardness beneath, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Hans. “You think you can keep control, Hans?” you murmured, your voice a mix of challenge and seduction. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Hans smirked, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Do your worst, darling. I doubt you can break me.”

You pulled his sweatpants down, freeing him from the fabric's confines. Your hand wrapped around his length, giving a firm stroke that elicited a soft groan from him. His reaction spurred you on, fueling your determination. You wanted to see him unravel, to lose the calculated composure he always held.

You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. Hans’s grip on your hair tightened, a low growl escaping his lips. You worked him with a deliberate pace, your movements precise and skilled, aiming to break the control he clung to so fiercely.

“Fuck,” Hans breathed, his voice a strained whisper. You felt a surge of satisfaction at his reaction, knowing you were getting to him. His hips began to move, subtly at first, then more insistently as you continued, the rhythm of your mouth and hand driving him closer to the edge.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were dark with desire, his expression a mix of frustration and lust. “Still in control, Hans?” you teased, your voice muffled but dripping with challenge.

Hans’s jaw clenched, a strained smile on his lips. “You think you can break me, Liebchen? Keep trying.”

You increased your pace, your mouth and hand working in tandem, pushing him closer and closer. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his grip on your hair almost painful, but you didn’t relent. You could feel him teetering on the brink, the tension in his body signaling his imminent release.

“Scheiße,” Hans cursed, his voice breaking. You could see the cracks in his composure, the cool, calculated exterior giving way to raw, unfiltered need. You took him deeper, the intensity of your actions driving him over the edge.

But you pulled away with a smirk, denying his orgasm. Hans growled in frustration, but you silenced him by grabbing his bearded chin. As you straddled him again, you squeezed his chin, your eyes locking onto his. "How many times have I told you to shave this ridiculous beard off your face?" you demanded.

Hans grabbed your wrist, pulling it away as he turned you around, now pinning you beneath him. "This beard stays," he growled, his voice a mix of defiance and desire. He then slapped your thigh, a sharp, stinging sensation that made you gasp. "Turn around and present that nice ass to me."

You did as he commanded, lifting your ass in the air while Hans pulled up your nightgown. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he revealed that you were without panties, a habit he particularly enjoyed. "Always ready for me," he murmured, his hands caressing the curves of your bare skin.

Hans positioned himself behind you, his fingers teasing your entrance before he thrust into you with a force that made you cry out. The intensity of his movements was both punishing and exhilarating, each thrust driving deeper as he took control.

"You love this, don't you?" Hans growled, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive strength. "You love it when I take you like this, raw and rough."

You moaned in response, the sensation overwhelming as he filled you completely. "Yes, Hans," you panted, your voice thick with desire. "I love it. Don't stop."

Hans slapped your ass again, harder this time, the sting mingling with the pleasure. "Good girl," he muttered, his pace increasing. "You're mine, do you understand? Mine to control, mine to pleasure."

You laughed at Hans's declaration, looking over your shoulder with a mocking grin. "You think you can control me?" you teased, your voice laced with challenge.

Hans's expression darkened, and he was having none of it. Reaching out, he grabbed the back of your neck and pushed it down, pressing your face into the pillow to silence your laugh. "Quiet," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I’m not done with you yet."

He continued to move inside you, his thrusts hard and relentless, each one driving deeper as he asserted his dominance. Your muffled moans filled the room, a mix of pleasure and frustration as he took you with a ruthless intensity.

But then, Hans's eyes caught sight of the gun thrown haphazardly next to the bed. With a sudden, calculated decision, he pulled away from you, leaving you empty and protesting. "Hans, what are you—" you began, but your words were cut off as he ignored you, picking up the gun.

He deftly removed the bullets, letting them scatter on the floor. The metallic clinks were sharp in the silence that followed. Hans’s focus was unyielding as he walked back to you, the gun now just a cold, empty shell in his hand.

Without a word, he pressed the metal barrel of the gun against your entrance, the coolness of the steel sending a shiver through your body. "You think you can mock me?" Hans's voice was a dangerous whisper. "You think you can laugh at my control?"

The sensation of the gun against your most intimate place was electrifying, a twisted mix of fear and arousal that made you gasp. "Hans," you whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation and need.

He moved the barrel teasingly, circling your entrance without penetrating, making you writhe with frustration. "You wanted control," he murmured, his voice dripping with dark promise. "Now you'll see what true control feels like."

With agonizing slowness, he pushed the barrel inside you, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of your desire. The sensation was intense, sending jolts of pleasure and fear through you. "Do you feel that?" Hans asked, his voice a seductive growl. "That’s the feeling of being truly at my mercy."

You moaned, your body arching as he moved the gun inside you, each thrust measured and deliberate. "You belong to me," he continued, his tone possessive and commanding. "Every part of you."

Your breath came in ragged gasps, the combination of fear and arousal driving you to the brink. "Yes, Hans," you panted, surrendering to the dark, intoxicating power he wielded over you.

Hans's movements grew more forceful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. "Tell me you love this," he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Tell me you crave my control."

"I love it," you cried, your voice muffled by the pillow. "I crave your control, Hans. I need it."

A satisfied smile curled on Hans's lips as he drove the gun deeper, his other hand gripping your hip with bruising force. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Now scream for me."

And scream you did, your body shuddering with the intensity of your release, the sensation of the cold metal and Hans's unyielding dominance pushing you over the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your pleasure, a testament to the dark, consuming connection between you.

As you lay there, spent and trembling, Hans pulled the gun out slowly, his touch almost gentle now. "Remember this moment," he said softly, his voice still tinged with that dangerous edge. "Remember who you belong to."

You nodded weakly, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. "I will," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Hans leaned down, pressing a possessive kiss to your shoulder. "Good," he murmured. "Now, rest. You'll need your strength for what comes next."

As he settled beside you, his body warm and solid against yours, you couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of contentment. In the chaotic, dangerous world you both inhabited, this was your reality—a dark, intoxicating dance of power and control that neither of you could resist.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by the dark, consuming passion that defined your relationship.

[loki-princeofasgard]

Mission #182 (part 1)

Loki x Stark!Reader

Part 2

You and Loki have been forced to go on important a mission together, the thing is you both hate each other. Loki looked at you as you two where walking to the cabin you two are gonna share. “You know I hate every second of this right?” Loki says. You just roll your eyes at this.

Loki rolled his eyes back at you “What? it's true, you get on my nerves”. He sighed at her lack of response. “Why do we need to go on this stupid mission anyhow, I've got better things to do.”

“Because Tony said so” you keep your answer short. You and Loki never really saw eye to eye. He always annoyed you and sometime flirt with you just to get in your nerves. You can’t really say you’ve been nice to him too since this.

When Thor brought him to earth and in the Avengers tower, Tony and Steve wanted to put him on a cell and keep him there. You were the only that was able to convice them to not doing this and actually put him to work with the Avengers, to make up for his mistakes on earth. Because of that, it seems that Tony always put you too to work together.

When you first introduced yourself to him, he was really arrogant and rude to you, which kind of made you regret a little not throwing him on that cell...

“So you do everything he says without question?!” Loki got annoyed at your answer. .

“Oh, believe me, I would rather be on this mission with anyone else” You say.

Loki looked annoyed yet interested “Anyone else? Really?”

“Yes.”

“You'd rather be on the mission with Captain American?”

“Like I said...” you stop walking and glare at him “...anyone else”.

Loki glares back at you, he's a bit intrigued at you answer and keeps on pushing the subject “Like who? You'd rather be on the mission with Thor?”

“Yes Loki. Thor, Cap, Nat, Clint, Tony...you can choose anyone.”

Loki looks offended at your answer and crosses his arms and looks away from you “What about Bruce?”

You think about his question. “Bruce? Yes. The hulk...well, look at that, it looks like you won this time” she says with a sarcastic tone.

They kept walking until they finally arrived at the cabin Tony had told them about. You sigh in frustration. It was really a small cabin. “That’s the luxurious cabin Tony told us about?”

Loki looks at you annoyed yet again “What were you expecting? We're in the middle of nowhere, did you expect something like the stark tower?”

“It's gonna be a long mission” You say to yoursel. Loki sighs and follows you into the cabin, looking around to see how small it is. The cabin there's only one room, with only one bed

“Wonderful *you say in a sarcastic tone”

Loki looks at you annoyed, yet he wants to tease you too. “Awww you'll have to sleep in bed with me...”.

“Oh no, you sleep on that couch over there” you point to a smal couch on the corner.

Loki scoffs “I'm not sleeping on the couch. I deserve the bed more than you.”

“Fine, I'll take the couch.” You agreed, not in the mood to discuss more with Loki.

“Fine, I'll take the bed then.” Loki says with a tone of victory. He lays down on the bed. He rolls over and closes his eyes, waiting for you to lay down on the couch. You get a pillow and a blanket and lay down on the small couch.

A few moments go by, Loki looks up and over to see what you were doing. He then sits up in the bed. “Are you comfortable there? It looks uncomfortable...”

“Shut up”. You keep turning around to try to find a comfortable position.

“You're not the most comfortable on the couch huh?” Loki continues to watch her, trying to get her to break and say something.

“I said shut up”.

Loki smirks but keeps quiet, he continues to just sit and watch her try to be comfortable. After a few moments Loki gets up and walks towards her “You're really uncomfortable there huh?”.

You try to keep up the act of being annoyed at him. “I'm... comfortable enough...I don't need your help.”

Loki rolls his eyes at you. He kneels down and moves the blanket out of the way and grabs your pillow.

“HEY! What are you doing? Give it back!”

Loki looks at her annoyed yet again at your resistance “Moving you to the bed. I don't want to get killed tomorrow because you didn't have a good night of sleep”.

“Fine, but you stay in your side and no touching me". You knew he was right, so you just accepted.

He rolls his eyes and lays down, he pats the bed telling her to lay down. “Of course.” Loki lays back on his half of the bed then rolls over and faces you.

You noticed. “What” you whispers looking at him.

He can't hold back his teasing, so he does it again “Come on, you should be glad you’re one of the lucky few to sleep with me.” He whispers and turns his back to you.

“Oh really? So... you didn't sleep with a lot of women. How disappointing...” You smirk, clearly teasing him. You couldn't let this opportunity to tease him pass.

Loki blushes a little at your response but tries not to let you see. “Shut up.’ He turns slightly back looking at her, he's obviously embarrassed.

He turned his face away from her quickly and mumbled “Shut up...” Loki turns away from her completely.

“Oh no!” You say playful and pull him back to you, so he's facing you again, but this time your bodies closer.

Loki looks at her annoyed yet embarrassed. “I told you to shut up.”

“Make me.” you whisper.

Loki look at your lips and got up from the bed, walking away from you to the other side of the cabin. He faced away from you and crossed his arms not saying a word, trying to pretend he was annoyed but in reality, he just wants to kiss you.

You sit on the bed, shocked he just gave up. You start worrying “Maybe I pushed him too much.”

Loki looked over and walks towards you, gently pushing you on the bed again, getting on top of you, and he caress your lip with his thumb “Will this shut you up?”.

Loki stares at you, you’re not saying anything, so he decides to make move. He pulls you closer to him and kisses you passionately. When he pulls back from you , he whispers in your ear “That's should get you to shut up for now”

He gets off you and goes lay down on his side of the bed, his back facing you.

You are shocked after that hot kiss and without reaction.

After a few minutes of being silent, he turns around and faces you. “Is that all? That kiss got you to shut up but no remarks?.”

You look at him but this time, you’re the one kissing him passionately.

[justjesse116]

Getting up on my soap box again.

For the record, I don't believe Horikoshi has meant to empower any woman or femme person with his depictions of certain characters thus far.

THERE AREN'T MANY.

Hey, sorry, yet again, Endeavor's family, there is NOTHING in this series that he has ever written that is femme empowering. Oh right, Enji's daughter wants to forgive him. And? The only other woman involved was forced into a mental hospital BY HIM for a decade(?).

Miss me with that shit. Especially with the time this is supposed to be set in, assuming the lifetime of his readers. And I don't know how different it is in Japan, but. Guess what. Until 1950 women couldn't open a fucking credit card without their father or husband's written consent. And I know just by listening to these fucking IDIOTS on this website that they're American, so. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. About what Rei could or couldn't have done. You're telling me to my face my own mother should have risked her literal life to stand up to a delusional, psychotic piece of shit who wouldn't listen to her, point blank. And if you don't like my opinion book a flight to Chicago and I'll fist fight you for free.

This nasty ass thing we have going on of sympathizing with men who have Had A Bad Time Of It™ is getting on my last fucking nerve. Whether it's Enji (likely) or Dabi (less likely, but not impossible) I need someone besides me to get a fucking grip.

You never give women the same grace, what, because you're primarily attracted to men and feel the need to excuse every shitty thing they do? Fuck you.

HEY. Again, Daddy Issues Central, what makes you think I'm giving men any leeway?

I love this story, I love this show. I love TOUYA. But I think if he had been a female child, fans would have hated his guts, and wished for his death. I'm not sorry. The portrayal of males vs females in literally every piece of media is like day and night. So I'm not going to sit here and be like oh yeah, Touya is definitely OldEst DaUGhter CodED. Because he's not. He is the most watered down version of an eldest daughter that you could conceptualize. Because his writer has no real concept of what that is.

And again, if you don't like this opinion, come fist fight me about it, because I'm done interacting with literal children who think they know everything. Fucking sue me.

[shurisasthmaticgf]

i just want to hear your voice: shuri x black fem! reader

tw// near death, injury, ptsd, anxiety, crying, swearing (i think i got it all but if im missing anything lmk)

authors note: idk what this is like i wholeheartedly pulled this out my ass just to post sumn so yall don't unfollow or think i stopped writing...or died or sumn.

y/n

y/n

"Y/N! HEY" shuri reached forward and pushed her fingers against your shoulder to get your attention. the distant look in your eyes as you came back to made her expression soften. the queen placed a gentle hand against your cheek as she asked, "where are you, my love?" she watched as your eyes opened and closed slowly as if your blinks were in slow motion. you pulled away from her touch and mumbled, "i'm here."

the princess watched as you rose to your feet and staggered over to your window that overlooked Golden City. thick bandages wrapped around your torso so tightly it felt like you were wearing one of those godforsaken corsets you had to wear for certain events. with a gentle hand you cradled your side as you leaned against the window.

the busy streets below made memories of sneaking out and visiting food stalls and buzzing marketplaces rush back to the forefront of your mind. so many early mornings that you spent before training, just watching the sunrise from roofs of the tallest buildings with shuri by your side. countless nights of slipping away when everyone was asleep to introduce your school friends to shuri before partying until the sun rose again. all of those memories before the world truly knew wakanda's name, and before you earned the title of the Dora Milaje.

fast forward to now where the entire world knows of wakanda, and the entire nation was nearly ripped apart at the hands of the talokan. you were thrust full force into duties before you thought you would be, having turned twenty the night before namor attacked the city. little did you know that the next morning you would be the one that saved the lives of the queen and the american scientist that unintentionally screwed everything up:

you had been standing guard at your normal post outside of the palace. when you got word that the city was under attack, you were dispatched to protect the other citizens while more trained dora protected the queen and riri inside. although being highly trained in combat, you had already taken heavy beatings when you saw your kimoyo beads illuminate purple.

water clogged your ears and you could barely hear shuri instructing you to go and protect her mother and new friend, over the screams in the street. adrenaline coursed through your veins and pushed you to sprint through the definite broken ankle and leg you already sustained. the huge gash on your side nearly went unnoticed through the rush of it all. with shaking fingers you pulled a kimoyo bead and pushed it into your bleeding flesh, your stomach churning at the sight of the small sphere being nearly swallowed by the wound. yet, you pushed on as the only thing on your mind was protecting the woman who cared for you since childhood, and the young genius who was only a year younger than you.

as you started sprinting you couldn't take your eyes off of the panels of celling to floor windows that lined the entire front of the palace. you frantically pressed at the buttons on your kimoyo beads in a specific sequence that overrode the security panel until you passed through them. it saved time in getting upstairs to the queen and the american teenager that were unknowingly the target of an attack. shuri remained on the line and you tried to hide the fear in your voice as you ran further down the corridor, "It's okay I'm almost-"

suddenly you felt the entire palace shook beneath your feet and a deafening boom rang through your ears. The doors of the palace room flew open from the force and your connection to shuri ended with static. shards of glass and a sharp spray of water blew into your face and stung your skin. the impact made you stumble back a few steps into the wall behind you. when you opened your eyes, covering your face with a hand you realized why you couldn’t see the queen and the teenager. a scream of pure horror ripped from your throat as you ran inside to see the glass floors were demolished and flooded with water.

"MAMA!" you screamed with hot tears streaming down your face as you dragged your feet through the shallow water that pooled at the entrance of the throne room. there was no hesitation before you dove into the darkened depths of the ice cold trench of a floor. with minimal light it was hard to see anything but a flash of movement a meter below you pulled your attention. a head of silver hair came into view, then a hand pushing the woman through the water. you kicked as fast as you could, slowly losing breath with every move. Her hand met yours and you wrapped it around your shoulder. with every ounce of energy and adrenaline you had left, you pushed the queen and the teenager to the surface above.

searing pain burned through your chest as you ran out of oxygen, your nose peeking through the surface just to slip back under a second later. muted wheezes and coughs were the last thing you heard before your eyes fell shut and the world went silent.

"Y/N! Y/N- LET ME GO! LET ME-" shuri's panicked shrieks became louder for a second before you lurched forward with a wheeze. you rolled onto your side limply to choke out the water that was forced out of your chest suddenly. air rushed into your lungs just to be rejected with each desperate breath you took, forceful coughs and wheezes sputtered from your throat harshly. water dripped from your nose and ears, everything burned inside as you gripped okoye’s arm with a clenched fist. when you were finally able to take a complete breath, your eyes started to droop and your body felt like a bag of rocks. suddenly, you felt yourself falling back and once again everything went black.

the hand shuri placed on your back made you jump slightly and she soothed just above a whisper, "hey hey it's okay. it's just me, bhabha~ baby." your shoulders visably relaxed and you bitterly asked, "why are you here? i know you had a meeting at this hour." shuri sucked in a breath and let out a sigh, she knew you'd be like this. ever since everything happened you had been distant and colder than normal to everyone. including the nurses and doctors that were in charge of your recovery which resulted in it taking much longer than normal, especially because your wounds weren't all physical.

the princess told you, "mother excused me from the meetings. the doctor told us that you haven't been cooperating for treatment." your gaze dropped from the window and you swallowed thickly before stating, "so they think sending you up here to babysit me will make me do what they want?" when shuri was silent you scoffed in annoyance, "i assumed as much. and it won't work so you can save your time and just leave."

shuri slipped her hand behind your waist and she gently coaxed, "what is the problem, darling." you shrugged and said as coolly as you could to disguise the tremor in your voice, "nothing. i am just not in the mood to see the doctors today." when your gaze crossed with shuri's you noticed her brows knitted together and the stoic look on her face.

fuck.

your girlfriend let out a hum of disapproval and rejection then a simple, "uyaxoka~ you're lying." shuri learned all of your tells before you both turned eight. she could read you like a book and you could do the same, which is how she knew there was more to it than you were letting on.

shuri lifted your chin with her finger and you faced her as she asked once more, "intoni ingxakhi~ what's wrong?" you bit the corner of your lip then decided to cut the shit and actually answer her questions.

you admitted in a whisper, "i have to bathe..."

shuri leaned closer to you and you repeated yourself once again, this time with a quivering voice, "they told me i have to take a bath." you shrugged shuri's other hand off of your shoulder then walked back to your bed. while sitting on the edge, you toyed with your fingers anxiously under the princess' gaze. she crossed the room and knelt before you with her hands on your knees, "i need you to talk to me so i can understand how to help you, my love."

you kept your eyes fixated on your lap and quietly rambled, "the water...i- i can' t- they'll make me get in the water and i can't- shuri i can't. it's like i'm there again and i feel like- i feel like i can't breathe and all i think about is that day and just...don't make me , shuri please don't make me..." your voice tapered off into sobs as shuri embraced you in a hug that you didn't pull away from. she shushed you quietly as she held you close, your fingers gripping the back of her top as if you were scared of letting her go.

nearly an hour later you had managed to get into the bathroom and you sat in the half full bathtub. a thin sheet of plastic covered the stitches on your side to prevent them from getting wet. despite the doctor's desperate efforts to use the usual wakandan healing methods, you never cooperated long enough to let them work. even with stitches instead of some medical grade vibranium treatment, you already had to be treated three times over due to ripping your stitches once and resisting treatment twice before that.

but now you were doing better physically- the broken ankle and leg you sustained were healing properly, and you were to start physical therapy soon. regarding your psychological healing...it was still a work in progress but you sitting in the bathtub now was a huge improvement from before.

shuri dragged the warm washcloth over your back and your eyes began to fall shut. as she washed your body with careful hands, she spoke, "uphilile~ are you okay?" there was a small hum that was just loud enough for shuri to hear before you sleepily murmured, "ewe~ yes." shuri relaxed slightly but continued rinsing your body one last time before wrapping you in a warm towel. shuri insisted that you let her take care of you so you let her help you into a fresh pair of chocolate brown silk pajamas.

she wrapped you in a blanket as well before having someone bring a warm cup of your favorite tea to the room. you settled on your bed next to shuri with your hands wrapped around your favorite mug. your girlfriend shook her head in amusement as she watched you take a sip from the chipped ceramic 'worlds best grandpa' mug that you loved more than any of the expensive china shuri offered you. her arm wrapped over your shoulder and you melted into her touch once again.

you drew your feet up and under the blanket and asked, "may you please read me something?" shuri agreed and quickly pulled a novel from your wall to wall bookshelf before settling back against you. although you've read the book countless times, shuri knew it was a favorite of yours. you finished your tea and set your mug aside while you listened to shuri reading. she only got a few pages in before you started to doze off.

shuri was tempted to let you sleep but she had one rule from the doctors which was to keep you awake during the day so you slept through the night. the princess nudged you and asked, "you know the rules, no sleeping yet right?" you whined and mumbled, "i can't help it shuri." your girlfriend remained quiet then started shifting as if she was going to leave which got your attention and you groaned, "fine. i'm awake, i'm awake. now please continue...i just want to hear your voice."

[newgh0ul]

Madness - Draco Malfoy x Reader - Part Two

Uncertainty riddled my thoughts as I boarded the Hogwarts Express. Hesitancy accented by body language, and slowed down every step I took. Everyone just seemed to know where to go, well...except for the first years. Here I was, older than the first years, looking just as lost and ridiculous.

Wondering down a hall, trying to find somewhere empty to sit, my body collides with someone. I look up, to see a boy with bright red hair standing over me. "Oh, bloody hell, are you alright?" He asks, and stretches out a hand to pull me up. I take his hand, and dust myself off. "Yeah, yeah, my ass broke my fall."

He chuckles, "Are you American?" My face beats up a bit and I awkwardly laugh, "That obvious?" He gives me a small nod. His pale skin can't hide the redness under his cheeks. "I'm Leah, I'm starting my fourth year." I give him my hand, and he eagerly shakes it, maybe a second too long. "Ron, I'm also a fourth year. I don't think I've seen you around here before-"

"I'm a transfer...from Ilvermony." I watch as the gears turn in his head, and he realizes why he's never seen me before. "I take it you don't have anyone to sit with?" He asks.

"What's that supposed to mean, Ron?" I tease.

"I-I just mean that...yknow you probably don't know anyone yet." He struggles through his embarrassment, I think it's sweet. "I was only joking." I tell him. He lets out a sigh of relief, and his shoulders slouch with the weight I've just taken off of him.

"Come sit with me and my friends, then." I take him up on his invite, following him to a carriage on the train.

There sat a boy with messy brown hair that framed his face, and circular glasses resting on his nose. He looked so familiar, but I just couldn't place my finger on it.

Next to him was a girl, with messy ginger hair, and a striking look on her face as I walked in. I wouldn't describe it as pleased, more like...challenged.

"That's Harry, and that's Hermione. This is Leah" He quickly introduced us all. Harry and Hermione looked equally confused as I took a seat, "Ron invited me to sit with you guys, it's nice to meet you." I smiled. The two gave me fake sweet smiles and a forced response.

An awkward tension hung over the carriage, I mostly spoke to Ron who was much more conversational than the other two. Hermione not-so-subtly glared daggers between Ron and I, her eyes peering over the newspaper she read. My aunt was reading the same one just this morning before she took me to King's Cross, but I forgot to ask about it.

'SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP' Headlined the page, hanging over a animated black-and-white photograph. I tried to make out what the picture was, some sort of skull and snake, I believe.

"So...what happened at the quidditch World Cup?" I decided to ask. Hermione lowered the paper, her lips still pursed and eyes steady on me.

"How do you not know? It's everywhere" She replied.

"I've had a busy summer, a little too preoccupied with moving to London."

"Surely you know about the Death Eaters and their attack?" Ron asks me, lowering his voice.

"No...no, I don't." I feel like I've just prodded at a sensitive topic, and even though Hermione and Harry aren't too warm to me, I hope I haven't just ruined my chance at being their friends.

"The Death Eaters attacked some muggles, and started a riot at the World Cup." Harry breaks his silence on the matter. As soon as he's done talking, he looks away, and focuses on the scenery outside of the window. I nod back, even though he's not even looking at me. There are no words that feel right to say right now. The air is suddenly heavy. Even Ron can't hide his look of disdain.

"Excuse me, I'm gonna go use the restroom." I stand to my feet, and exit the carriage. The heavy atmosphere seems to follow me, weighing me down. My heart aches for Ilvermony and for my friends there. I don't want to know any of these people, I don't want to start again. I want to go home. All I can think of is home.

As I reach the bathroom, the door swings open. Out steps a blonde boy, in a black suit. My spiraling stops as I realize he's the same boy from the book store. He stands there, and I decide to make the first move.

"Excuse me, how are these manners for you?" I spit as I shoulder check him as he did to me. Just as I grab the handle to the bathroom, and try to make my way inside, his hand latches around my arm. His grip is tight, and he inches closer to me. I can hear each breath he takes as he squeezes tighter.

"You should know your place, little American girl." He growls and lets go, shoving me back a little. I hit the doorframe and watch as he walks away.

I glance around to see if anyone saw, and to my luck, no one did. I shut the door behind me, and lock it. As soon as I hear the door lock, I start to cry.

I want to go home.

(word count: 920)

(this is being posted on Wattpad under the same name, along as the madness tag on my profile. I’m putting it on ao3 as soon as I get my invite. Enjoy <3)

[willow-tree-writes]

✾Inside Job✾

Steve Harrington x Russian!Reader

Summary: You were sent to American with a mission - get close to a dangerous group of teenagers and get rid of them from the inside.

Request: @everose05 "I was wondering if you could do another Steve Harrington x Russian Reader. But where the reader is a russian assasin, and only starts dating Steve to get close to the party and take them down. Since the russians know they will try and stop them. I've never seen it be written before, and i think it could be really cool."

Author’s Note: I have been away for a while... wow... I'm glad I got this request or I wouldn't have written at all! I've been so busy with college and struggling with low motivation, so I don't know how consistent I'll be. Also, sorry for how short this is, I kind of rushed myself to get this out for you guys.

Word Count: 970

Warnings: Cursing, Faking Feelings

!I don’t own this gif!

When you were first told you’d be sent to America in order to breach a group of children who were trying to get rid of the Russians, you thought your father was insane. Сумасшедший.

But here you were. In some cul-de-sac, standing outside a suburban-style rancher.

“просто замечательно…” You mumbled to yourself. ‘Just great…’ You were going to have to stay here for god knows how long and pretend to care for people that are already dead to you.

Now all you had to do was unpack your shit and survey outside some high school for your targets.

----

This little hellhole didn’t seem like anything special. It was a small town where a bunch of tragedies happened, causing everyone to hate the place. And the teenagers you’ve been watching out for seem like just that - teenagers.

With a small sigh, you reposition your wallet so that it would easily fall out with a little tap and started to walk towards your main target, trying to act as though you were confused.

Looking around absently, you bump into a boy that you were told was named Steve Harrington. He was the oldest of the teenagers, making your superiors believe he is the ringleader of sorts. 

At least they were making you fake date a guy was pretty cute.

“I am so sorry!” You exclaim after bumping into him, trying to make your accent sound more ambiguous. You were informed of their previous run-ins with Russians, so you couldn’t let them catch on.

This Steve guy looked away from a curly-haired child and towards you, almost in a sort of awe. “It’s, uh… It’s no problem.”

Giving him a small smile, you slowly start to walk away as you put your hands in your pockets. You pretend to pat yourself down, signaling you’re missing something. “Shoot… My wallet…” You mumble loudly as you look around at the ground.

Before you knew it, Steve was right in front of you, flashing all his purely whites as he held out your wallet. “Drop this?”

You laughed a little, trying to make it sound a bit embarrassed. “Yes yes, thank you.”

While taking the wallet from him, you let your hand brush against his, holding it there for a moment.

Neither of you letting go yet, you opened your mouth to speak when he spoke first. “You’re not from here, are you?” Wow. Would take a genius to figure that out.

Smiling the snark comment off, you shook your head. “Just moved, actually.”

“From where?” Steve’s small curly-haired boy butted in, looking at you skeptically. 

It was more than obvious that people don’t just move to Hawkins, Indiana for the hell of it.

“Oh, far of yonder. Small European country.” You lied, smiling at the boy who you presumed was Dustin Henderson.

Two of the eight teens met. Not counting the three that moved recently. 

“Exotic.” Steve joked, nudging his little friend, who wasn’t amused at all. 

You forced a laugh to seem open to whatever this boy has to offer. “Well, thank you.” You repeated, slowly pulling your hand away and putting your wallet back in your pocket.

“Hey,”  he started again, giving a little shrug, “maybe I could give you a little tour around town? Tomorrow I get out of work at noon, so I could meet you at your place.”

Didn’t take much to get him to already ask you out.

With a smile, you gave him your address and turned around to start to walk back off to your ‘house.’

“I’m Steve, by the way!” He called out after you.

You turned your head, still walking away. “Y/N.”

----

It had been a week. Just a week. A week and this boy wouldn’t leave you alone. He was eating you up like a honey cake.

It was Saturday, exactly a week after your first ‘date.’ And you’ve spent almost each day with Steve. You’ve met everyone else in the group. 

They’ve all had their different levels of skepticism, but you have a feeling that getting close to Steve will be the best option for having the others begin to trust you.

Right now everyone was split up within a house. You believed it was the siblings’ Nancy and Mike Wheeler’s house. This seemed like their typical hangout house.

The youngest of the teens were in the basement and the older teens, plus you, were mingling in both the kitchen and living room.

The rundown of the group was obvious - Steve wasn’t as much of the ringleader as he was the heartthrob. There wasn’t even a ringleader at all. Nancy might be the closest thing to one. Dustin and Steve were very close, but Dustin was also very smart. If you could get close to Steve, he would convince Dustin you were good and that would convince everyone else in the group.

Right now Robin and Nancy were in the living room while you and Steve got some snacks together for the group.

“So, how has Hawkins been treating you?” Steve asked as he grabbed a bowl off a high shelf.

You shrugged a little. “If you’re Hawkins, then amazingly.” You joke. While he did give you a tour of the town, your focus was on him and his focus seemed to have been on you, too.

He smiled and handed you the bowl. “What can I say? I’m a top tier host.”

Smiling back at him, went for the bowl, lightly placing your hands overtop his. “I say you’re more than top tier host.”

He chuckled, leaning his hip against the counter, right in front of you. “I am truly honored.”

He slowly started to lean in, and the easiness of this job hit you.

Steve Harrington was falling for you as easy as a bowling ball falls from a skyscraper.

[apocketfullofpoesis]

Book review: The Silent Patient

[SPOILER ALERT ⚠️]

Rating: 2/5

Before y'all start coming at me, bear with me: I know for a fact that it was a debut novel so trust me when I say, I've been very considerate in giving this review :)

1. If I didn't know Alex was a screenwriter, I'd do away with my disappointment. I understand it was a debut novel. I am a writer too and I understand. I've read the debut works of a lot of authors WHO DID NOT HAVE A BACKGROUND in the field of writing like Alex. His writing style (at least in this work) is rushed, there's a feeling of emergency - maybe it was intended to set the tone of the story - but it merely came at me like he wanted to do away with the book, just finish it somehow. I wrote my debut book when I was 17 and it's been 2-2.5 years in my self-doubt and low-esteem that I still keep going back to keep editing and drafting it. So I'm being brutally honest when i say the second draft of my debut work >>>>>>>> the final draft of the silent patient. i thought I was being a bitch but trust me guys, I am being thoroughly honest. you'll see when my book comes out (hopefully before I die). The only good thing I learnt after reading this book is a new sense of confidence and leap of faith in my own writing style, especially being an Indian writer writing about an American setting.

2. Diving deeper into the narrative, which, according to me lacked depth. This semester, I studied about Longinus, the Graeco-Roman critic, who is known for his famous critical treatise, On the Sublime or Peri Hupsous - which basically advocates the importance of the quality of sublimity in a text that makes it special, elevating the readers out of their own self and transporting their imagination to unimaginable worlds. I could go into detail but luckily, someone has already explained it in a better way here . For me, the silent patient lacks sublimity and not just a bit, but in such an amount that it can't be avoided, it keeps poking at you until you give up the benefit of the doubt and accept the truth. There is no development whatsoever regarding the narration of the environment, the characters in depth, and also the one thing the writer must've focused on, he carelessly attended it as well: Ironically, the book is pivoted around the world of psychology and all things synonymous - or at least the writer has forced so - and even then, he did little to elaborate the internal reveries of the major characters, let alone the minor ones. The conversations were rushed, there was no description of contemplation before the characters arrived at a conclusion and so many more flaws that I can keep counting and my fingers would run short.

3. The writer introduced some characters, who provided absolutely no aid to the storyline or the development of the plot - if there was any. He could've either used them in a much more refined way or just shouldn't have even introduced them in the first place. Jean-Felix's existence is beyond me. Also, why did he tell Alicia that she trusts everyone around her so easily - what was the point of that? This statement piqued my interest in Jean-Felix and right after that the writer disappointed me yet again. Kathy's character was yet again wasted. I also don't understand the poor character development of Max. THIS GUY LITERALLY ASSAULTED HIS SIS-IN-LAW AND NEVER ONCE CAME TO SEE HER AT THE GROVE AND NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN HE'S EMOTIONAL TOWARDS THE END??? LIKE??? I felt like I skipped 20 odd chapters because clearly there's a lack of something so crucial for the sudden change of Max's heart. Or the writer went lazy with his character arc and wasted yet another foil.

4. Alex is part Cypriot and I respect that. I am a sucker for Greek mythologies and trust me when I read the word "Alcestis" for the first time in the book, I immediately became pumped up to finish it. Unfortunately that's all it was. A bait. I think, and no offense, that the writer kept boasting his love for Greek mythologies, throughout the pages. I had better expectations from Diomedes' character but yet again, I think he was wasted. Even though Theo wasn't Greek, he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and interest in it so I think if the writer intended to hint at his honour and love for the mythologies, he should've made Theo Greek/part-Greek? I feel like he could've mingled references of the Greek culture in a better way and not just occasionally hitting with one every now and then when you're engrossed in the story. Idk, this one's a personal reverie though (Please don't cancel me).

5. Coming to the story. I was into 100-150 pages when I got bored. I consulted it with my friends, who had extra hyped this book to me and because of whom I got hold of it. I told them how the noob writing style is really pissing me off and till then, no special development had ignited. But they told me that the climax is really worth it and so I kept reading. I was hopeful that I'll get something. But the climax was not at all original. If you've watched the Netflix series You, you could've already guessed the ending by the fourth part of the book and if you're a sucker for Joe Goldberg's ways, like me, your guess of the ending would've been much sooner and better than the real ending. I was hoping till last that the writer must've done something with Max or Jean-Felix or even Diomedes himself - wouldn't that be cathartic? But no. There's something royally wrong with Theo, granted, but if he was the culprit all along, the writer must've shaped his character in a better, more refined way. Not everyone can be Joe Goldberg. LIKE I DONT UNDERSTAND - HE KNEW IT WAS HIM ALL ALONG WHY TF WAS HE TREATING ALICIA LIKE FOR WHAT WAS HE HELL BENT ON HER FINALLY SPEAKING UP?? SOMEBODY EXPLAIN PLS.

In conclusion, the story was a whole lot of nothing and I gave two stars because the book cost me 160 bucks + i liked the reference of Alcestis. This is my personal opinion and I don't intend to offend anyone who has a different opinion than me, okay? Good kids x.

[bonesandthebees]

I think it’s very fitting that your scrap bin is called ‘feast on the scraps’ cuz I am very much feasting. I love the vibes of the 80s spy au. I was not ready for it to be West Berlin, but somehow that setting is very compelling. I’m assuming the people they don’t want to get the list would then be East Berlin, the Stasi and the sovjets and so on. Would explain why it’s important that they work together. The car scene is a very nice way to force Tommy and Techno into working together. It’s also a way for Tommy to earn Techno’s respect dispite being so young.

And then Wilbur comes in already having the respect for both of them. Also, sandduo crumbs. And Niki and Wilbur being siblings is something I’ve never thought about, but it’s such a vibe. It seems like they put on thus nice polite front but there’s probably danger under the surface. Either that or they got in too deep and are now rolling with it. Chaos ensured.

Then there’s the second scarp, because we are grtting spoiled. I am once again in aw of your ability to provide exposition without dumping it all on a page. Every bit of information feels organic. It feels like we just step into Tommy’s pov and are along for the ride rather than the character explaining everything for us. There’s hints towards Wilbur being blind but it doesn’t really get mentioned because it’s something Tommy already knows and is used to.

We learn about the Caves through dialogue and conversation. We don’t know what they are or what they look like, but we know their purpose (to find artefacts), their pitfalls (dangerous creatures) and their value (to make a lot of money). When and explanation is needed, we get the bare minimum. This keeps us hungry for more, yet doesn’t leave us confused. It’s just good okay.

-🌲

aaa thank you!! yeah the 80s spy au was heavily inspired by a spy film I rewatch a lot called Atomic Blonde which takes place in West Berlin in the 80s, hence the setting. they were definitely trying to keep the soviets in East Berlin from getting their hands on the list hence why the Americans and the Brits decided to work together in the au. car scene works as a GREAT way to establish tommy and techno's teamwork super early on it was so fun to write

there's a plot reason wilbur and niki were siblings in this au because that's not usually a dynamic i would go for, but I had an idea and it was just too good to pass up. I don't want to spoil it in case I ever change my mind and finish writing it, but knowing me that's not gonna happen rip. but yeah wilbur and niki are SO fun in this au. they're just two twenty-somethings running a sneaky little information network, definitely do some smuggling between east and west berlin, and get a little in over their heads sometimes

aww that's so sweet I'm so glad all the worldbuilding and exposition felt natural!! i'm very proud of how I started introducing the world in the second scrap, primarily because I remember when i was first writing it i had zero plans i was literally just writing whatever came to my head. I was just coming up with the world as I went lol. and yeah I definitely wanted wilbur's blindness to just be referred to in an obvious way without it being stated outright because that's how tommy's gonna think of it. just hints here and there until tommy makes his stupid joke clarifying to the reader what's going on

I loveeeee providing exposition in dialogue. it's so much more interesting instead of just providing it in a big paragraph with zero action. I have a lot of fun with worldbuilding like that. just throwing pieces here and there and letting the readers form the picture gradually instead of just infodumping it all onto them.

tysm spruce so glad you enjoyed!!

[mthollowell-writes]

Author Ask Tag Game!

Thank you so much to @axl-ul for the tag! You can find their original post here!

Even though it was my @missaddledmiss blog that was tagged, I'll be using my writing blog to tackle this one.

You've given me the prompting I needed to finally talk about the beast of a WIP I've only been hinting at thus far. I'm choosing the Festival of Shadows (tentative title) for this tag game.

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it? I'm not sure there's a lesson per se. The story is a murder mystery that becomes a monster hunt, though the monster becomes harder to identify as more dark truths and conflicts of interest are uncovered. The story at its heart is a quest for truth which often requires a deeper examination of the darkness within each of the characters and the darkness they choose to tolerate. The story is about how ultimately, to get through a problem, you have to let other people help you. You don't have to do it alone. (Collective action for the win!) So I guess, that is a lesson though one that requires a lot of sacrifice and vulnerability for everyone involved.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)? The story takes place in the fictional American town of Hollow Grove. It's where strange things happen: where vampires, werewolves, zombies, and other mythical beings are tolerated, where the macabre is rather commonplace. For the longest time, I struggled to characterize the town beyond its eccentricities because I couldn't decide where it was. When I settled on the Midwest, a lot of things clicked into place. I drew a lot from that culture, horror media, and true crime. I also draw a lot upon history to inform the text, especially 19th-century trends like Manifest Destiny/ settler culture and progressive movements of the 1970s and how all that informs the present (circa 2017).

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person? Mariela is trying to piece together how a dark magic ritual leads to the deaths of several members of a fringe cult within Hollow Grove and how that may tie back the Edelhaus Coalition (the main political and religious power brokers in Hollow Grove) and her own troubled family history. I simply want to tell her story, along with the stories of the rest of the cast. And I guess, how the past still influences the present, no matter how long ago it may seem. Certain things stick with you. Certain things shouldn't be brushed off because "it happened so long ago."

How many chapters is your story going to have? This monster is projected to be 65 chapters give or take a few. We'll see what survives the editing process.

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it? This is an original work. As for posting, I haven't made my mind up about that yet. I'll cross that bridge when I finish it.

When and why did you start writing? I started the Festival of Shadows story back in 2017 as a fun weekly challenge to myself for the new year to flesh out all these new characters I created for Hollow Grove and to flesh out the world itself. The earliest draft ended up taking a whole ten months to complete. I then put the story on the shelf until about last year when I completely revised it from the ground up. I started a second (first) draft but was forced to put the story on pause again to flesh out certain plot threads neglected in that one. This has truly been a long labor of love.

Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow? I'm going to interpret engagement as encouragement so by that logic my advice would be to have fun with it and write the stories you want to read. As long as you start there, you'll go far. I know of a lot of lovely people in this space and can't wait to see what you all do and how we can help each other reach our goals.

Sorry if this was all written out a bit clunkily. This is my first time talking about all this publically but I enjoyed the practice and hope to improve.

Now for tagging!

Very low-pressure tagging @acertainmoshke, @ryns-ramblings, @nonsenseramble, @palebdot, @friendlyshaped, @rmgrey-author and anyone else who would like to participate!!!

[child-of-the-new-contagion]

Ecto-Containment System

.,.,.I wanted a place where I wasn't limiting myself by fear of certain potential readers. It's funny, cause they wouldn't probably read anyway, but the slight chance was inhibiting expression. My wife E is one of the feared potential readers, and I've given out links at times to people too close to me in real life, and that can cause headaches. I could of course just not post, but there's the thing about being potentially readable, even if it's a self-flattering fairy-tale, or even the thing about being theoretically readable far in the future by alien surveyors of the Sol information microcube archived before civilization got turned into a dead two-dimensional painting by hyper-dimensional travelers cleaning the Dark Forest of potential rivals like some roided-up sinophobic new american century project.

So I'm posting in a new way, just writing about things straight-forwardly, instead of coding and metaphors, although I'm trying to do this thing where I have my cake and eat it too, take trips on dxm yet have the happy marriage, be in a relationship but also be able to write, indulge in cryptic poetics and also just convey information, for the edification of myself, mostly, cause there's this sordid compulsion in the social media era, of exhibitionism, even if it's for no one.

So yeah, I'm being a goody good boy for the most part, and a good husband [pretty good at any rate], and faithful, but I also believe in drugs. Certain ones, a sophist's discernment, doctoring myself. I can never totally turn my back on the dextromethorphan sacrament, I'm the prodigal son, the lapsed catholic reclaiming my birthrite.

I think vaping is the new MSG. They don't want it to be OK. They don't want you to enjoy it. They. Them. You know.

It's hard to quit because the negative consequences are so few. Except the artificial expense. The Sin Tax, the mafia government's cut, whatever. Also, there's something creepy about turning myself into a glitchy machine whose functionality is dependent on the short nicotine timer. I don't like it when I'm impatiently pecking at the button with increasing, ever-more-futile efforts like a trauma victim in the hospital bed being weened off the morphine IV by the nurses.

And there's something troubling about the steep curve of diminishing returns, forcing me to take frequent tolerance breaks, like I fail to do anymore with caffeine. It's such a silly game. I'm wired up with what sometimes seems too many chemically dependent circuits, but then, it's all a chemical circuit in'it, some voice deep inside sooths me into believing. No, that's not all there is, there's magikscum of dissociative drugs, and there's the people I love, organic realness, and there's a society I don't know whether to be a martyr defending or shrug off, or just admit I don't know nothin about nothin, I'm just a confused old man in the woods.

There's the thing about never being very precocious, so middle age is gonna hit me late like most things, maybe I'm not even there yet, but oh boy, what a crash it'll be. If I can survive beyond 47, the most depressing age according to data, then maybe I'll get to the real don't give a fuck golden years and enjoy that, if there's anything left in the world to enjoy.

I can take tolerance breaks though, I can go on nic gum, boring responsible gum, and I can even get off that too and get nic free, and I can even get off zoloft, until I start feeling sadness too scary to bear, and run back to it. I can get off these things for a little while. I can get off booze almost all the time, and that is one of the really evil ones, so that's good. I can keep my fentanyl in a bank vault, open it telepathically with the auto-destruct command when needed, if last-ditch geo-engineering fails to fix the planet, and instead turns everything to ice, with the remnants of humanity left to fight it out on a never-stopping train circumnavigating the frigid world and serving as an emblem of wealth inequality.

One part of the movie Children of Men that I think of more and more, that I never gave its due, is the premise of the government-issued suicide pills that are advertised on TV, with the cheery slogan: "You choose when." And real life is rhyming with that close to home with all the hoopla about the Medical Assistance in Dying program in Canada, the assisted-suicide fast-track. I have complicated feelings about that.

I wonder if I can captive-audience someone through the thin gruel of emotional blackmail into reading my selfish words through laundering in what is professedly a letter to a friend, but is really just a blog entry, another wordwank. It might almost work, it's hard to quit something that almost works because it's so close, it might as well be working, burning the credits of long expired favours, like bunk acid.

Mostly I can keep vaping and being on SSRIs and trazodone the tranq because maybe I just breezed through the midlife crisis without even noticing, or maybe it's still waiting for me, but regardless, I can enjoy the benefit, having lived this long, of not feeling the dumb compulsion to be pure somehow, that's an idealism I can happily leave behind.

I'll also post the only music I can manage over the long lame lately, which is facile and clumsy improvisations. But there was something worth a novel or a series in the title: The Art of the Possible. Which is what they say politics is, but I'm trying to stay away from politics on this blog. But there's rich thematic resonance from the epigram that extends to many things. What I meant when I came up with it while playing stemmed from the obsessive thought, what can I possibly come up with, in tense real-time, with these hands of mine that are lagging so far behind my rushing thoughts? The limitations of technique and imagination. What sort of compromise do I have to make with reality, to serve others, like the mockingly theoretical readership, listenership, or public?

[insomniac-astronomer]

4,12 with natasha and if possible can it be kind of enemies to lovers

Natasha Romanoff x Reader: I Didn't Mean It

I also got a request with 4 & 26, so I'm going to combine these two requests! P.S. you don't have to use my prompt list to make a request! I just made it for extra encouragement. Also, I write for more than just Natasha!

Anyway. I love enemies to lovers and honestly have no clue why I haven't written if yet. Like bruh. Also might go heat up my mall chinese food but I'm so indecisive that I haven't done that yet either.

Description: Reader and Natasha got off to a rocky start, which leads to their worst argument to date and a lot of regrets. (that vine of that guy holding the two cats and saying "love each other" and they fight) happy ending!

Prompts: "No. Absolutely not.", "Watch where you're going.", and "Everything will be alright." (*stretches hands* time to get creative)

Gender: neutral! No pronouns used!

WARNINGS: fighting (verbal), yelling, self-esteem issues, crying/breakdown/depressive episode

*not my gif*

"Watch where you're going." Natasha Romanoff spits at you as you almost run into her.

"Sorry," you roll your eyes. You're not a spiteful person. You've never really hated anyone. But that woman gets under your skin like nothing else.

Her demeanor is always negative and, from the moment she met you, she disliked you. You have no idea why. You literally just said 'hi I'm Y/N, nice to meet you' and she just walked away. Whatever. Let her deal with her own problems alone just like she wants to be.

You head to the kitchen for dinner, sitting next to Wanda.

"I made paprikash!" She tells you excitedly. "Try some?"

"Sure," you give her a smile as she puts some on your plate.

You hesitantly try it, immediately squinting at the heat. You try not to make a sudden move, but a little cough forces its way out of your throat.

"What? You don't like it?" Wanda looks so sad.

"No, no, it's just, really spicy," you sputter.

She gives you a look. "That's only mild paprika in there."

"I'm an American with no spice tolerance, which means I really can't handle anything spicy." You smile at her apologetically. "I'm sure I would love it if I could, though."

"Alright, thanks for trying." Wanda gives you a little side-hug.

Then, your most favorite person in the world walks in. The light tone of conversation around the table fades just slightly as everyone looks between the two of you.

Best part? The only open seat is right in front of you.

Tony hastily stands up. "I can sit there, Widow."

"No, that's alright." Natasha shakes her head and takes the seat. You roll your eyes and look away from her.

Very slowly, conversation resumes. You share a look with Wanda, who is clearly trying to encourage the two of you to get along.

Unlikely.

You would make an effort. But she hated you first and literally has never tried to be nice. So why would you waste your time?

"So Nat," Wanda grabs her attention. You let out an audible 'ugh'. "You like the Hunger Games movies, right?"

"Yeah," Natasha shrugs.

"Y/N likes them, too! See-"

"No, actually, I hate them. I think they're stupid and childish." She lands her gaze on you.

"Oh so whatever I like, you have to hate, right? Because you hate me so much?" Your anger is grabbing a hold of your heart.

"Only because you hate me," she rolls her eyes, which makes your blood boil.

"I literally never did anything to you! You were the one who brushed off my introduction! The first time I ever spoke to you, you walked away!"

"I had more important places to be," Natasha sneers.

"Oh, sure." You fold your arms.

"Okay, okay, let's all just settle down here for a moment." Tony stands up.

"No," you immediately retort. "I actually think she should explain what I ever did to her."

"You're annoying as-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Tony tries again.

"I literally said hi to you. That's it? How am I the bitch?!" Your voice is raising.

"Y/N, calm down." Wanda puts a hand on your shoulder. "We can talk this out, just not right now."

"No, I want to know." You are yelling. "When you give me a good reason as to why you hate me, I'll never talk to you again. You owe it to me."

"Maybe we should move," Sam suggests, already standing and pulling Bucky with him.

"Yeah," Tony follows. "Try not to break anything, but feel free to fight it out."

You stand in complete silence with your arms crossed. You made your point. Now it's her move.

"I don't owe you anything, actually." Natasha's voice raises.

"Just tell me what your deal is!"

"You're an annoying screw up! You're not worth anything to this team!"

You blink. She purses her lips. Surprisingly, you feel tears come to your eyes just slightly. You nod and walk out of the kitchen.

Wow.

It shouldn't affect you. You know she's just saying it to make you angry. Obviously. But you already feel like just a shadow compared to her. They could honestly drop you at any moment and be totally fine. As much as you hate to say it, she's right.

Why do you add to the team?

Nothing. You have the same skillset as Natasha. No special powers, no crazy family asset, not anywhere near as much eloquence in your movements as her.

Comments on social media agree with that. They've called you 'The Black Widow from Wish.com' which made you feel just great. And you screw up a lot of missions because you loose concentration. You're not totally comfortable working in front of a crowd. The alien bad guys scare you just with the way you look, like in a horror movie.

You slam your bedroom door shut, locking it with the manual chain so Tony can't tell FRIDAY to open it. You flop onto your bed, tears already streaming down your face.

As if you couldn't have any worse ideas, you pull out your phone and open Instagram, scrolling through all of your comments, reading each of the nasty ones. It's awful and you don't know why you can't stop. Each new insult makes your stomach drop.

The tears come faster until you can't see the screen anymore and you're audibly sobbing.

At this point, you couldn't care less about what Natasha thinks. The whole world hates you. You have absolutely zero fanbase. Anyone else makes an appearance, people cheer. You show up and they completely stop. Widow from wish. The Walmart-brand superhero of the group. And at first you laughed at it until you realized they were serious.

You just lay there for hours. The sun sets, the moon comes up. The sky is too cloudy for stars. The TV is playing some 1am crap. Sadness is tugging at your chest so hard that every time you try to doze off, you just start crying again.

At 2:30am, there is a knock. Then silence as you just wait for them to go away. Then the door squeaks as it cracks open, but is stopped by the chain.

"Y/N?" Someone whispers.

"Not present." You say is a dead voice.

"Y/N," the voice is clear now. It's Natasha.

You groan. "Please go away."

"I came to apologize." She sighs.

"Yeah sure," you roll your eyes.

"No, I'm serious."

You think for a moment. "I'm not getting up to take that lock off."

Natasha is silent. "Okay."

And you think that's the end of it. But nope, you hear the chain starting to rattle. Is she seriously trying to unlock it? That's the most effort she's ever put in with you before. Unfortunately, you hear the chain fall only a second later.

You will be adding a new manual lock in the morning.

You see Natasha's figure in the dark. She very hesitantly comes over.

"I'm really sorry."

You just stare at the ceiling.

"I didn't mean anything I said."

"Really?" You roll your eyes again.

Natasha inhales sharply. "Yeah."

"You didn't mean any of it? Not even the part where you said you don't owe me anything?" You're just pulling at her now. You know she won't say no to that.

"No. Absolutely not."

Oh. Hm.

"I actually do owe you an explanation."

Hm. She's being serious. You move your eyes to look at her. She is a mess. Her hair is falling out of her pony tail and it is frizzed all over. She's still in her clothes from dinner, but her makeup is gone.

Natasha clears her throat and slowly sits down on the edge of the bed. You sit up because you actually do believe she's going to tell you the truth.

"When Tony brought you in," she starts shakily and takes a moment to recompose. "I thought I was going to be kicked out. You're a carbon copy of me, only without the enemies and the bloody history."

You laugh lightly and you see her relax.

"So, I was worried. And then I met you and you were so nice and pretty and I just-" she pauses, "I just thought it would be easier to hate you than make you my weak spot."

"Oh," you whisper. She nods. "That's actually crazy because I always feel like I'm in your shadow and I'm going to be kicked out."

Natasha laughs tensely.

You sigh. "I'm just you but not as good or strong or confident."

"That's not true," she whispers. "You're one of the most confident people I know."

"No way. I never feel good about myself." You confess.

"You don't show it at all."

You shrug. "Just always trying to convince Tony to let me stay, I guess. Always trying to look really put-together and intelligent."

"I'm so sorry." She repeats.

You nod. "I'm sorry for yelling, too."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I was being an ass."

You shake your head. "Still. I didn't help."

The both of you don't say anything and there's an anxious pause.

"I forgive you," you say quietly.

"You do?" Natasha looks shocked.

You nod. "I understand what you were thinking. I was thinking the exact same thing, just backwards. And it hasn't been easy holding all of that in."

Natasha breathes in relief. "Yeah."

Then, you decide to just mend the bond. You lean in and wrap your arms tightly around her. For a moment, she doesn't move. And then, she turns and puts her arms around you, too.

You start crying again, though you're not sure why. You try to hold the tears in but one escapes and your breath catches.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asks without moving.

"Everyone online hates me." You whimper.

"What do you mean?" She holds you tighter.

"They say I'm the knock-off version of you." And, honestly, you feel that a weight has lifted off your chest as you finally admit that out loud.

"They're very wrong." She says. "You're all the good parts of me. Plus, you're a badass on your own. You can run so much faster than me and you aren't weighed down so much by the past. They don't know what they're talking about. You're amazing."

"Really?" You say through your sobs.

"Yes." She makes eye contact with you to make you listen. "Really. I've wasted all this time being mad at you when I could've been-"

The end of her sentence hangs in the air and she gently starts to sway you back and forth as she keeps holding you tight.

"Everything will be alright," she whispers into your ear.

You feel yourself starting to calm down enough to take a few deep breaths.

"You wanna watch something? Would that help take your mind off it?" Natasha suggests.

You nod.

"Okay. I'm going to get you some water. You find a movie, I'll be right back."

You nod again.

You search for the Hunger Games and she returns a minute later with a glass of water. She smiles when she sees the TV.

"I actually do like this movie, too. I was lying about that."

"I know," you giggle.

She hands you the water and helps steady your shaking hands. The warmth of her hands on your's makes your heart beat just a little bit faster.

You take a few sips of water and place the glass on your nightstand. Then you lay back into your pillows, gesturing for Natasha to lay next to you. She is slightly hesitant but follows suit regardless.

A few minutes into the movie and a twinge of sadness sparks in your heart again. You curl up to Natasha's side to help ease the pain. She puts her arm around you, and you let the warmth flood any emotion away.

The Reaping isn't even over before you fall asleep.

💫

"Well, that's a dramatic turn-of-events," Tony's voice wakes you up.

"Fuck off," Natasha tells him. You hear him mutter something and walk away. You giggle into her chest. "Morning."

"Good morning!" You smile bright squeezing your tired eyes shut against the slits of sun on your face.

"Feeling better?" She kisses the top of your head, making you blush.

"Yeah, thank you." You wrap your arm around her and give her a hug. She brings her other arm up and hugs you back.

"Of course."

And you had the best morning just laying there for an hour.

Thanks for reading! Don't steal, I'll come for u :p

Buy me a coffee?

[sidney-latrobe]

since she’s been around and in the bad parts of the neighborhood and she misses fez and wants to get back together with him but then she sees faye and it’s just a wtf type of moment/moment of confusion ? i’m picturing a multitude of sass, jealous, and angst since the reader and fez always been really okay even if they weren’t together. i hope this makes sense. thank you so much in advance! i love your work.

There was another similar request, but I'm just going to answer one.

Summary: You grew up in Fezco's neighborhood and went to high school with him. At some point, you started going out, but it didn't work, and Fezco broke up with you. You missed him and wanted to check up on him, trying to see if maybe there's a chance for you two to work things through and get back together, but then, you met Faye.

Content Warning: Jealous Reader, Sassy Reader, Angst, Strong Language, First-Person-POV Reader

Word Count: 2.028

Personal Note: Hey, thank you so much for requesting this. It's true, I haven't really dived into the whole angst and jealousy section of my writing yet, and I'm a little scared it's not as good as you hope. Anyway, thanks for liking the content I post. Don't @ me because of the ending. I know it's not the best :)

Life was not kind. It wasn't meant to be. Take a look at the animal kingdom; only the strongest survived. If you are too slow, you get eaten. Too visible, you'll get eaten. Too big, you'll get eaten. In Charles Darwin's Theory of Evolution, he describes how organisms evolve over generations through the inheritance of physical or behavioral traits. The theory starts with the premise that there is variation in traits within a population, such as a beak shape in one of the Galapagos finches Darwin studied.

According to the theory, individuals with traits that enable them to adapt to their environments will help them survive and have more offspring, which will inherit those traits. Individuals with less adaptive traits will less frequently stay to pass them on. Over time, the traits that enable species to survive and reproduce will become more frequent in the population, and the people will change or evolve.

Let's assume we can apply this theory to our society; everyone has different traits. Even in a community that wants you to be confident about your flaws and embrace them, we're still divided. Some are fortunate and grow up in a stable home, inherit their parents' money at thirty, and continue to sell what the family had been trading for over a hundred years. Other's came from nothing and built a life for themselves, lived the American Dream, some might say.

But some climb the ladder and get dragged down by forces beyond their control.

What about these people?

Was it fair their parents abused them?

Was it fair he got raped at the age of eight by his uncle?

Was it fair she was drugged and sold into slavery?

Was it fair or perhaps necessary for these people to experience this kind of trauma, this pain and hurt to become ... stronger? More adaptable to our world? If these people learn anything, no one helps you, that you are always alone and you can trust no one.

—

I was created in the womb of a drug addict, and my mother's mother was a prostitute. I was supposed to struggle from a young age, but I was temporarily saved by a lesbian couple that adopted me.

My mothers raised me in East Highland. They tried to buy a house on the east side of town-owned by Cal Jacobs, a well-known contractor, but the downpayment was beyond their price limit, so they settled for an apartment in the west.

It was a bad neighborhood; it was the sort of place where you could not walk around by yourself as soon as the sunset (no matter your gender, unless you packed a gun), and you were on a first-name basis with your weekly mugger.

One of our neighbors used to be a tall, blonde lady who always wore bright suits and heels, carrying a gun in her purse. I liked her. Whenever my parents couldn't watch me, they brought me to Marie. She allowed me to sit in front of the TV and eat cereal for dinner. Sometimes, she would shout things into her phone that I didn't understand and take off with two of three revolvers in her purse, but I didn't worry about it. I felt safe with her.

Then, around my tenth or eleventh birthday, I met Marie's grandson, Fezco. He had a brutal blue eye and was somewhat awkward around me as if he had never been around another kid his age, which, sadly, was the truth.

Fezco was the son of a strip club owner, and his mother was a stripper he had never met. I doubt he wanted to. From what I was told and overheard, he lived with his abusive father and worked in the strip club to earn his living. I don't know what sort of work he did there, and to be honest, he scared me sometimes. He was very intuitive that brain of his always scheming. Once, I stormed into his apartment to ask if he wanted to hang out, and I had startled him. It was the first and last time he pulled a gun on me.

He didn't like to be alone with me, and it had bothered me so much that I locked us in a cabinet and swallowed the keys. That day, our friendship began, and I got punched by a man for the first time but unfortunately, not last time.

Though we were close, Fezco and his grandmother tried to keep their illegal business away from me as long as possible. She didn't want the responsibility of another ruined future on her hands and my mothers, well, they were decent people living in the wrong neighborhood.

Fezco grew up too fast. His grandmother became sick, and he was forced to take care of her, his younger brother Ashtray and run a drug-dealing business from a young age. I offered him my help, but he never accepted. He didn't like to be a victim.

At the age of fourteen, my uncle died. My mother took his loss hard; they were twins. Quickly, she became depressed, never leaving the house, and used self-inflicted pain as a sort of escape. Seven months after my uncle's funeral, I found her body in the bathroom. She had overdosed and died from a seizure. I don't remember much of the day, but I do recall that it had been a warm day with fantastic weather that lured you outside and spread happiness.

I never dealt with my mother's death as I probably should have. My mother, who had been sexually assaulted a year later by her boss, quit her job and took off one day without telling me. I was sixteen.

Fezco and Ashtray took me in, and to no one's surprise, Fezco and I slept together only a month later. I thought he saw me as a younger sister and still did even after having sex a couple of times. I didn't know I loved him as much as he must have loved me until he remembered my birthday and tried to bake a cake. It tasted horrible and was hard as a rock, but I ate it all, throwing it up later because it gave me food poisoning, but I was never happier.

Our joy, however, was not destined to last. After graduating from high school, Fez and I got accepted to the local community college. Fezco dropped out of school after only a few months. He never told me why, but I suspected it had something to do with his criminal business. Knowing he didn't trust me enough after all these years pained me. We had a massive argument that night, and I moved out the next day.

Though we were no longer together, I remained in contact with him—for Ashtray, he was my godson after all.

—

Ashtray's birthday was coming up—even if it may not be his actual birthday, Marie had decided that the day his mother abandoned him at her apartment should be replaced with better memories. Although I haven't lived with him for over a year, we still called and texted regularly.

I placed the wrapped gift onto the passenger seat before starting my car's engine, waiting for the motor to finish howling before I shifted gears and drove from my apartment complex parking lot. The drive toward the shop was short. Although I still lived in the same town, I haven't heard any gossip about Fezco. A friend of mine mentioned his name once, and I had almost strangled them just to find out she visited his shop to buy weed.

After a short fifteen-minute drive, I pulled up to his shop. It looked just as it had done a year ago, and a slight grin curved my lips. Though it was just a place, I missed it.

I stepped out of the car and took the present from the passenger seat before heading inside. Fezco sat next to the counter, smoking a cigarette as he always did. He lifted his gaze, and the cigarette almost dropped from his lips as he stared at me dumbfounded.

"Y/N?" asked Fezco, jumping from the counter.

"Hey," I said and allowed the smile he ignited to take over my face.

Fezco had remained the same. His hair was cut short, but his long and thick lashes still made me envious. He took a step forward and embraced me briefly. After smelling him, I had to swallow hard to clear my brain; he smelt fantastic.

"What you doing here?" he asked, looking hopeful.

"I wanted to give Ashtray his present —"

"Hey, can I—oh, hey. I'm Faye."

I glanced behind him, and the smile vanished from my face as fast as it came. Behind Fezco stood a tall, thin blonde woman. She wore risky cut-off shorts and a top that didn't need to leave anything to the imagination because it covered practically nothing. She was pretty, stunning. My eyes flickered between her and Fezco, and I hoped he would say something, anything to put the worries inside my head to rest, but Fezco remained silent as if he didn't know how to explain why she was here.

"Who's this?" I asked, my tone harsher than I hoped it would be.

Fezco glanced from Faye to me and muttered, "Oh, she, uh, she's staying with me for a while."

Faye turned and took a seat on the cooler. I almost let out a growl as I saw her perky butt cheeks. She wasn't the kind of girl Fezco dated, she couldn't be, but to be honest, he didn't date anyone besides me. The stranger smiled at me, and I gave her a mere glare.

"Y/N?" said Fezco, concern tugging at his brows. "You alright?"

There was a scream from deep within that almost forced its way from my mouth; it was as if my terrified soul had unleashed a demon. All I felt was anger; all I felt was that I didn't want to imagine what she was to him. Yet these filthy imagines flashed in my mind, and these fists clenched, and my teeth lock up once the sound is out. I'm just gonna have to walk away for a while, see this "elephant" from a few miles away, figure it out.

"Yeah," I spat. "Didn't know you were running a charity for homeless addicts now."

Fezco ran a hand over his face, "It's not like that, Y/N."

"So, you're not fucking this bitch?"

"No! Why the fuck would I fuck her?"

Though I was relieved, the anger controlled me still. "Why would you let her live with you?"

"Because she murdered someone and is hiding from the police, and her boyfriend asked me for a favor because I owed him!"

Oh.

"God damn, Y/N. Faye, could you just fuck off for a second." The blonde left. "What's wrong with you?"

"I just … I was wrong, sorry."

"You jealous?"

"NO!"

"Come on, Y/N. Don't lied to me."

"I'm not jealous. I just … didn't think he moved on so quickly."

"We've been broken up for over a year."

"So? Doesn't mean I don't miss you!"

Now I had done it. I lost my temper. Fezco took a deep breath before he leaned against the fridge next to me.

"I missed you too."

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