#I mean it was clearly someone from before I was born that did this

[angelltheninth]

Blinder Than the Blind

Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, injury, working together, teammates, first kiss, Bucky is bad at feelings

Word count: 1.2k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Every time I see him I love him just a little bit more. It's not just me is it? I know it's not.

You went on many missions before you went on one with Bucky, The Winter Soldier and kind of your mentor. It was a little annoying because the man was only a few years older then you, well not counting the experiments, and he treated you like a rookie. Going through field training with him was one thing, you could mouth off to him there, but in the helicopter, on the field you recognized stealth and your mission as the priority.

Bucky would never say he was picking on you but he did seem to keep a closer eye on you the most. During daytime it was annoying as hell, but during nighttime you found other uses for his heated gaze.

Another thing you would never admit to him, your massive crush on him.

What started as more of a hero crush, with him being someone you looked up to a lot, devolved into annoyance really fast and came back full force as what often manifested as lust. Thank god he always called you for missions cause you would not handle him hearing the way you moaned his name.

“Bucky, I’m fine. I mean, sir, I’m fine.” You giggled at him as he set you down on the medical bed, your head spinning from the blood loss. “Hey, does it do anything for you? When you get called sir?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you and resumed reading the report of your admision, not that he had to but he wasn’t going to entertain this flirting from an injured and clearly delirious teammate. “No. But it seems like you don’t know the meaning of the word either. Why rush head first like that? You know where the drop zone was, you jumped before we reached it.” Bucky’s face hardened as he leaned forward in his chair and made a gun motion with his metal hand, “If I hadn’t jumped right after you it could have ended badly.”

That, it was that attitude that irked you. That better then anyone else, superiority complex of his. “So its rules for thee but not for me? Cause I’ve seen you jump off before, I’ve seen you storm a building by yourself, how is that not reckless?” Every time he acted that way your heart would stop for a moment before you remembered-

“I’ve done this since before you were born. It wasn’t pretty, or safe, but I learned how to be good at it. You don’t have the luxury of that. I’m sorry, but you’re off duty for the rest of the week.” Even the pain medication you were on couldn’t help how pissed off you felt at him at this moment. If you weren’t scared it would break your hand you would have punched him on his shoulder. “You’re angry.”

“Oh? What gave you that idea?” You rolled your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to gather your thoughts and feelings, “At least I finally got your attention.”

“What?” Bucky’s responce was lightning fast and shocked, his eyes wide, the papers falling to the med bed.

“Did I just say that out loud?” All the color drained from your face at the realization. Forget the mission, forget the heroics, you just wanted to get snapped out of existence. Or to another universe, anything as long as you didn’t have to stay here in this moment.

Bucky did pay attention to you, but it always when you least wanted him to. “You did this for my attention? Do you think I don’t care about you? Are you blind as well as incapable of following orders?” His voice was rising but not with anger, with fear and worry from your words. It all looked the same to you because, you’d never seen Bucky worried about you.

When you didn’t answer him he leaned back and sighed into his hand, other reaching for your hand. Despite it being colder then your own skin you didn’t move from the contact, although it was far from the reaction you expected. The silence stretched for several minutes, neither of you daring to break it.

“I don’t need your pity, sir. And I don’t need you to treat me like I can’t handle myself on missions.”

“You really are blind, no that would be an insult to a lawyer I know. Real asshole but he can clearly see the things in front of him, he can read people like no other. You?” He chuckled, not quite mocking but you didn’t know how else to read it, “You wouldn’t get it if I spelled it out for you.”

“I also don’t appreciate you thinking I’m stupid, sir.” You grit the last word though your teeth, “Why don’t you try me?” You grabed his hand, pulling him towards you, a taunt you thought he wouldn’t answer.

But he did.

He answered loud and clear, with his lips on your, with his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face like you’d break under him.

He was right. You didn’t understand. “You... kissed me just now?” Your whole world was turned on its head, this whole time you were under the impression that Bucky hated your guts. To be fair, he might, you heard of people hooking up while not actually liking each other, to get the frustrations out. This didn’t feel like that, there was no anger behind that kiss, no frustration, in fact that was the most gentle you’ve witnessed Bucky be.

“I did. Tell me what your conclusion is, when they let you out of here.” His touch lingered for as long as possible, your cheeks burning when his hands fell away. Well shit.

You were absolutely unable to focus on anything the doctor was saying other then when she said you were free to go. In that case you were fine. Right? Wrong. That kiss made your head spin more then the injury itself. Almost enough to make you forget about it all together. Okay, you can figure this out. Bucky liked you. Your heart told you that, your head refused to accept it.

As you walked out of the medical bay you saw him waiting beside the entrance, a worried look on his face. His eyes lifted up to see you, looking well. He was barely able to hide his relived sigh. Well earlier you had the energy to argue with him so you must not have been that bad, still he showed you just how much, and in what way, he cared for you.

“Ready to go?” He didn’t seem to want to address the kiss from earlier, instead he offered you his gloved hand as he stood up, waiting.

Your felt a tightness inside your chest. You could walk past him, you could never speak of the kiss again, you could yell at him for it, you could go back home and yell at yourself for not seeing he cared about you all this time. Or you could simply take his hand. The last one was the choice you want with, and without saying a word, with a gentle smile from Bucky as you took your place by his side you started your walk back to your place.

[melonteee]

Okay I didn't find if anyone has ever talked about this to you, so I bring it up. I like your videos and takes on one piece, but I must say that I disagree with you about Garp's answer to Ace when he ask if he had right to be born in the world.

Like, I don't think it was about "he needs to prove himself to the world". For me it was more like Garp's rough way to encourage Ace to live and make his own conclusion. It's probably depends on translation, as in my language it was translated basically "(you) only find it out by living". Of course Garp could've said "of course you have", but maybe he felt like that answer wouldn't have satisfied Ace. I mean, I don't think Ace was in right state of mind to accept such answer, only later on with Luffy when circumtances were different.

I say this so respectfully because I've gotten this reasoning tons of times before from other people, but I do not care what Garp's intentions were lmao. If a literal child says to you "Should I even be alive?" your answer, POINT BLANK, should be YES. No matter how you put it, Garp's answer was essentially telling Ace to PROVE he should be alive, or to EARN being alive, which is bullshit. Like "You can only find out if you should be alive by living" ??? And then we wonder why Ace spent his whole life searching for, oh I don't know, SELF WORTH??

Even if Ace wasn't in the right state of mind, he was a CHILD. You don't think someone straight up telling him "Yes OF COURSE you should be alive!" wouldn't help him tremendously??

We also have a line from Franky in Water 7 as he says to Robin "Existing isn't a sin!" and we see just how much that helped someone like Robin. So why can't a belief like that, or an answer like that, be extended to Ace? Why doesn't Ace get that kind of reassurance as a CHILD from Garp??

It's even hammered home how bad Garp's answer was when Ace treated Luffy HORRIBLY and, when Ace asked Luffy if he needs him, Luffy said "Of course!"

Ace proved absolutely nothing to Luffy, and Luffy still said "I want you here!"

What Garp said to Ace was undeniably stupid and cruel to me, because he was trying to push Ace into a life HE thought Ace needed to live. Even when Ace was caught, sentenced to be executed, Garp yelled "Why didn't you listen to me and join the marines?!"

Garp's answer was essentially telling Ace to prove to the WORLD why he should be alive, which is a horrible thing to say to a child. You can twist it any way you want but it's clear what his intentions were and how what he said will always circle back around to Ace needing to find a reason to exist. I do not care what kind of reasoning was in Garp's head, because what he said to Ace didn't help him at all. Luffy helped Ace more than Garp ever did because Ace NEVER had to prove his life to Luffy, and Garp being a horrible mentor to Ace is only further proven when Dadan punched the shit out of Garp because he did NOTHING to help Ace.

Garp made some horrible mistakes with Ace, I see that as one of them. I don't care what the reasoning is, it should be acknowledged that Garp's answer was way too cruel for a child to hear. Especially when what Garp told him clearly followed him into his adulthood, and is one of the reasons he even THANKED people for loving him.

He showed gratitude for people LOVING him, because he didn't think he was WORTH that love, and you expect me to try and reason around Garp telling that child he needs a point to be alive? I don't think so.

[boobachu]

It was an ask blog for a PMD-E account, then after I transitioned I became boob-a-chu in tandem then tumblr made it so if you don't log in a year the blog dies so I had a hyphen removing surgery and now here I am... I forget when I did this tho. Like you'll see my URL on older posts with the hyphens and it doesn't link to this one (I guess it doesn't update replies cuz you'll see "dead" accounts and then OP replies "how is this post getting shit" and oh OP changed their name and tumblr glitched)

***I do not mean how long have you owned the url. How long have you been using it? Quick stints with other urls don't count if you have mostly used this url. If you switch around a lot I mean THIS current url.

[toshn]

showing mark weird tiktoks :P this is really just pure brainrot i can’t takr it anymore it’s all over my fyp 💔🥀gn!reader i rhink and hero reader!! not proofread!!

it was 11:27 pm. you were doing your usual—doomscrolling on tiktok in bed while laying in mark’s arms after beating the shit out of criminals the entire day. it was the only time where you were able to just lay down and do nothing. if you weren’t born with powers, you would have definitely chose to rot in bed all day eating frosted flakes in the same pajamas you wore the previous day as opposed to working your butt off to fight crime. one could only dream

you’re new latest obsessions, of which mark was graciously subjected to never hearing the end of, was those weird ai generated photos of animals mutated with random things and the cute little japanese mouse-like creature—chiikawa. if you weren’t mouthing off about something a weird half-jet plane half-crocodile said, you’d be crying about how cute chiikawa is. or whoever ‘gluttonous king usagi’ is, as mark would say.

“mark. our streak mark. mark our streaks.” you mumbled with your cheek pressed against his chest, eyes still glued onto the screen in your hands.

“why do you keep sending me this rat in a suit who killed john pork? why is his wife having an affair with a pig?”

you giggled, laughing at the silliness of what came out of your boyfriend’s mouth. “tim cheese was a controlling piece of shit. he doesn’t deserve tina! she should’ve left him a long time ago!”

“and he didn’t have to kill john pork…” mark grumbled, scrolling further up to watch the other tiktoks you sent him. making sure to answer each one and keep your streak alive—or he won’t be hearing the end of it.

you rolled away from his grasp to instead press your stomach against him, your face inches away from his. “yeah! he was totally jealous of john pork. i’ll send you another tiktok so you’ll be able to educate yourself better about the ‘tim-cheese-john-pork saga.” you exclaimed, laying your cheek against him once more. the rumbling of his chest that came from his laugh making your heart swell with how soothing it sounded.

mark was really enjoying hearing you ramble about things he doesn’t even understand. hell, he was a geek himself. but if someone were to put you and him in the same room? (please do) it’s a different story. sometimes he doesn’t even get half of what you’re saying because he can’t catch up with internet humor nowadays—not that he has the time to do so. he patiently waited for you to find the video you were looking for, briefly looking at his own phone before he felt you perk up.

“here look! he betrayed john pork! i kinda feel like pengu is in on it… just- just watch the whole thing!”

and he indeed, watch the whole thing. his face was a flurry of emotions the entire time. he was frowning, furrowing his eyebrows, for a second you thought he was gonna throw hands himself. mark was clearly invested.

“i’m so scared for my life right now. what if i actually am next?”

you let out a hearty laughter, rolling away from mark and onto your back. he had the same reaction as you did the first time you watched the tim cheese lore video. and he even had the same look on his face when tim shot john pork’s head off clean.

“baby this is no laughing matter. who even made this? what beef do they have with john pork? i mean he clearly had pork you know.”

you continued on laughing, the absurdity of the entire conversation further fueling the fire and mark was suppressing his own laughter, determined to be the mature one between the two of you. mark shook his head. dismissing the tiktok that was still playing in the background as he watched you cradle your heaving chest while quiet giggles continued on under your breath.

“alright.” you deadpanned, “it’s no longer funny. i’m over it.” you sat upright, a faux stoic expression on your face and you looked mark right in the eyes— slowly getting back into the position you were once in.

mark shook his head in agreement, placing a hand on your back and rubbing circles on the area as he lifted his phone again to open tiktok. his attention still subtly on you. “yeah, you’re right.” he remarked.

“but what if… pengu actually framed tim cheese and he killed john pork? food for thought, (y/n). food for thought.”

masterlist.

[the-sacred-now]

Many things I did not expect from some youngish white dude approaching a group of protestors and saying "I would like to have a discussion... excuse me, will someone explain to me what you're doing here, I would like to have a conversation..."

Other protestors understandably shied away from him, those are odd words for someone to use in good faith--but I gave him a chance, and damn, am I glad I did. It opened my eyes to the ways that someone can be (apparently) intelligent, sensitive, and decent, and have just utterly enormous gaps in information and context.

We had about a half an hour discussion before his bus showed up, and covered too much to say here--he brought up a few intelligent objections to my assertions, was receptive to both hard data and conceptual reframes, wrote down terms I said that he was clearly unfamiliar with, admitted to being "out of the loop," said "no, really??" and "that's a good point" and "that would be terrible" a lot, and while he had a LOT of questions, there was none of the sealioning I had kind of anticipated.

But the part I wanted to share here. He had asked who was being negatively impacted and how. (By Trump/Musk/DOGE?? Overwhelming question, but I picked a couple answers.) I say something about trans people, for one, he says:

"Now what IS the trans thing about? The president said there's only two genders. I looked it up, first of all, there's like twelve different ways you can be born, that's just medical facts. And then what about the transgenders? You can have, like--your soul can be a different gender than your body. Why are they attacking that?"

And I. I talked about scapegoating. And Musk's daughter. And the religious control aspect, which brought us to christofascists and white nationalism. (He wrote down those words, while saying with genuine bemusement, "where does race come into it?" and I. Started rambling about the construction of whiteness as a tool of class division which has been successful in its aim for hundreds of years, which seemed like a big lightbulb moment for him.)

But I. Honestly I could just cry. From knowing that there are people out there who are THAT out of the loop, like, "have you literally been on a silent retreat since you were perhaps twelve, and have spent the last two months trying to catch up on the past decade and a half?" levels of out of the loop, whose response to "there are only two genders" is to go, "well that doesn't sound right hey, there I looked it up it's not true, why are you being mean for no reason? :("

[smellysluna]

Again, And Again, And You

Pilot Chapter

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Word Count: 621

Summary:

You've lived through countless timelines—each one shaped by monsters, magic, and the unbearable weight of knowing too much. Until you wake up in a version of reality where none of that ever happened. No dungeons. No deaths. Just high school… and him. Sung Jinwoo—quiet, intense, and impossibly familiar—is here too, and maybe this time, it'll be you who changes his world.

Notes:

This will eventually become a College AU, if you know what i mean👀

Masterlist | Next

You didn’t remember how your first life ended.

Not clearly, anyway. Just the feeling — the tremble in your knees, the way your hands had stopped shaking only when it was too late. Blood drying on your palms. The smell of something burnt and rotten and wrong. A scream — your own? Someone else's?

Every time you closed your eyes, it echoed.

And then you opened them again.

To a new life.

The Cup of Reincarnation was merciless. It reset your world countless times. You remembered every loop. Every bitter, failed attempt to understand the rules. Every shift in logic, every horror growing worse. The first time, there were no monsters. No dungeons. Then, suddenly, they were there — tearing open the sky and dragging humanity into their sick idea of a game.

By your third life, Hunters existed.

By the fifth, there were ranks. You were born an E-rank. Weak. Disposable. The kind who died on the first floor of a D-rank dungeon. And you did, once.

You stopped counting after the seventh life.

Because nothing ever changed.

You always ended up fighting. Scraping your way up. Building empires from ashes. Learning the systems — mana types, support gear, gate windows, boss patterns. You were always ahead of the curve, and for what? To die again. Reset again. Be thrown into another version of the world where the rules shifted just slightly — enough to keep you on edge.

You had money. Power. Prestige.

In one life, you founded the biggest medical tech company that saved millions of hunters. In another, you brokered the first deal with a nation-state to fund dungeon clearance teams. In your eighth life, they called you The Founder. Not because you asked for it — but because you were the first to act. The first to mobilize. The first to try and save people.

And still, it never mattered.

You died. Over and over and over again. Watching the world crumble under the weight of forces it never understood. Watching people you tried to protect betray you. Use you. Mourn you.

Until he appeared.

He changed everything.

It was your second-to-last life.

You didn’t know what it meant at first. That this quiet, unnoticed boy — Sung Jinwoo — would be the anomaly. The variable. You’d met him before, in other timelines. Briefly. A shy face in the background. A name on a guild registry.

But this time, he was different.

He changed. Became something the world couldn’t control. Became the strongest hunter. And for the first time in your endless, looping existence… you didn’t die. He saved the world.

He saved you.

Not with words or even with direct action. You’d never grown close. But you watched it happen — the way he rose from the bottom and kept going. The way he stared death in the face and refused to break. And maybe that’s what broke you. The realization that someone like him could still exist in the cycle. That hope wasn’t extinct.

And then…

You woke up again.

One last time.

No dungeons. No monsters. No Hunters. No Cup of Reincarnation.

Just… a normal life.

And Sung Jinwoo was there.

You saw him on the first day of high school, two rows ahead of you in math class. Laughing his heart out like he had no worries in life.

You didn’t know if he remembered.

You didn’t even care.

All you knew was that for the first time in lifetimes, the air didn’t taste like ash. The sky didn’t feel like it was falling. The weight on your shoulders… was gone.

You weren’t fighting to survive anymore.

You were breathing. Living. Watching.

And maybe, just maybe—

You could have a normal life.

Masterlist | Next

Taglist: #Open

[dramagodesss]

three : hottie on watch

playin' the players

rafe's phone

you adjusted the strap of your camera and stepped toward the rink, boots echoing faintly on the concrete. warm-ups were already in full swing—sticks clacking, blades carving arcs into the ice. a few heads turned as you approached, but it was rafe who straightened first, like someone had tugged a string attached to his spine.

"hey john b," you said with a small smile as you passed him. he grinned back, relaxed and familiar, nodding like he remembered exactly how much fun you’d had at the welcome party.

then you turned your attention to the taller figure just a few feet away.

“rafe, right? i think we met at the welcome party friday?”

he blinked. “yeah. uh—yeah, we did.”

his skates were only half-laced, one of them still dangling from his grip like he’d forgotten what he was doing. you watched the hesitation, that half-second stutter of recognition.

"you’re y/n. winslow," he added quickly, almost too quickly—like he’d rehearsed it.

you smiled. “wow. full name recall? i’m flattered.”

“alright,” one of the older girls from the photography team called, clipboard in hand as she scanned down her list. “we’re pairing off for solo profiles—coach wants everyone to have updated shots for the media kits.”

she looked up, eyes landing on you. “y/n, you’ve got cameron and routledge.”

you blinked. rafe and john b. two sides of the chaos coin.

“got it,” you said easily, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you stepped forward. “where do you want us?”

“use the south wall—natural light’s best there right now. we’ll rotate you in for group shots after.”

you turned back toward the boys. rafe had clearly heard—he was already watching you, jaw tight, expression unreadable. john b, ever the contrast, gave you a casual thumbs-up and a bright grin.

“guess i’m yours for the next ten minutes,” you said to rafe, voice lilting somewhere between playful and daring.

he hesitated, just for a second. “you sure that’s enough time?”

you lifted your camera slowly, lining up the shot. “depends how well you behave.”

he let out a short breath—almost a laugh—and stepped under the light.

“what do you want me to do?” he asked, voice low.

“just… be yourself,” you said, adjusting the lens. then, after a beat, “unless being yourself means clenching your jaw like it owes you money. in that case—maybe relax?”

behind you, john b snorted.

rafe rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. you caught it.

click.

the rest of the shoot moved fast—portraits, candid action, a few group shots. you gave quiet direction while your teammates helped with light and reflectors. jj kept cracking jokes and stepping into your frame like he was born for it. rafe watched, saying little, his focus more on you than the camera.

kelce and topper hovered with twitchy nerves, while john b and pope stayed laid-back and helpful, easing the mood. still, it was clear: two of them were trying hard to be seen. and not just by your camera.

“alright,” you said, pulling the camera down. “you’re all free to go terrorize the campus again.”

a few fake groans. john b gave a real thank you, pope too. rafe lingered—then turned before he spoke.

you packed slowly.

jj was already waiting by the bleachers.

“yo,” he called, tipping his chin up. “you need a model for that magic camera of yours?”

you glanced over your shoulder, eyes gleaming.

“you volunteering, maybank?”

he smirked. “only if you’re behind the lens.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you adjusted the weight of your gear on your shoulder.

“actually,” you said, pausing just long enough to make him tilt his head, “i do need a model.”

jj perked up immediately, grinning like he’d just won something.

“for a portrait project,” you added, pretending not to notice the way he instantly tried to stand taller, like he was already posing. “but if you’re too busy charming the entire campus, i can find someone else…”

jj’s face dropped into mock offense. “what? no! no need for that—you got me right here, princess.” he thumped a hand on his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “jj maybank at your service.”

you smirked. “you sure? it’s kinda artsy. real up-close-and-personal stuff. long sessions. direction-heavy.”

“sounds like my kind of thing,” he said without missing a beat. “especially if it means i get to be around you without half the hockey team hovering.”

that pulled a real smile from you. “alright then. i’ll dm you the concept and details.”

jj made a face. “ugh. dms?” he shook his head like you’d just suggested he use linkedin for flirting. “nah, i always forget to check them. plus, last time i did, i accidentally left someone on read for like... three months. it got weird.”

you raised an eyebrow, amused. “sounds like a you problem.”

“probably,” he said, grinning. “but we can prevent it. skip the ghosting risk—give me your number. make it real.”

he held out his phone, wiggling it like a bribe.

“here. go on—bless my contacts.”

you rolled your eyes but took it, fingers flying as you added your number under y/n winslow.

“perfect,” jj said when you handed it back. “now i’ve got a reason to blow up your phone.”

you turned, walking backwards toward the exit. “just don’t send mirror selfies at 3 a.m. or feet pics. we’re not there yet.”

jj grinned wide, walking backwards in sync. “yet?”

you laughed again. “we’ll see how you do in front of the camera, maybank.”

and with that, you turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving jj maybank already feeling like a winner.

taglist : @beewritess @davinashifts333 @lanasangelsz @littlefreak-liz @drewstarkeyswife0 @lalaloopsieparty @ethanthequeefqueen @wtfisastiles @angelicameron @moth-feeet @drewstarkeyswife-7

[yanderecrazysie]

Oh you can write for Neige! I Imagine a reverse scenario with him where if Neige kept stealing roles that Vil wanted, Vil unknowingly stole Neige's crush from him. Like maybe him and reader are both actors and she's like the perfect princess in his eyes especially with her heroine roles! Until reader watched some of Vil's villain roles and fell in love with his characters. So much so that she started talking to Neige about how cool he is and how fun being a villain character seems to be. Even going as far as to try auditioning for villainess roles because now she wants some of that action.

Cuz lets face it, villains are more often geeked out about more than the heroes.

Title: Stolen Spotlight

Pairings: Yandere! Neige LeBlanche x F! Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Description: Why would you want Vil when Prince Charming is right here?

Note: I genuinely would love to make a part 2 to this, what do y’all think?

“Vil is so amazing, isn’t he?”

Neige sank a little deeper into his chair, hiding his irritation. Vil finished his lines for the scene and the director yelled, “Cut! Perfect as always, Schoenheit!”

“Wow!” you squealed, “I got the chills, didn’t you, Neige?”

The dark-haired boy gave you a closed-eyed grin, “Of course!” As Vil walked by, he could sense the jealousy seeping through at the sight of Neige in his “Prince Charming” outfit and makeup. 

It was ironic, he thought, for Vil to be so envious of him, when his hard feelings couldn’t compare to the storm inside of Neige himself. Sure, he could have any protagonist’s role, if only he were to ask, but Vil owned something far more precious…

Your affection.

It didn’t make any sense! You and Neige were always Prince and Princess in the movies and plays you both auditioned for, while Vil was just a villain. You spent more quality time with Neige and never said a word to Vil.

Yet, here he was, friendzoned. All while you pined for someone that could never be the hero of anyone’s story. 

Vil was a cold, calculating villain that was cast aside by the end of the story. He was doomed to be outshone by the prince or hero- by Neige.

So why? Why did you look at Vil like he hung the stars in the sky? Why did you hang on to his every word, prewritten or not?

Neige swallowed the bitterness creeping up his throat. He should be happy for you. You were his closest friend, after all. 

But when you gushed, “I’d love to play as a villainess just once. Can you imagine that? I would be standing beside Vil, then!” Neige could barely stand it.

His nails dug into his palm, leaving crescent moon nail markings. That wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.

Neige forced a laugh, “Oh? But wouldn’t that ruin your image? Fans might not like seeing you as the villain.”

Your eyes filled with doubt and disappointment.

Good.

“Besides,” he continued sweetly, “Playing a villain means you’d have to go against me. Are you sure you want that?”

He knew you loved him- even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted. He was your best friend, your co-star, your Prince Charming… He had spent years on screen perfecting your chemistry on screen.

Yet, Vil stole your love right from under him.

So, Neige smiled, sickly sweet, “You don’t need to change, you know,” he murmured, “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

You seemed to consider his words, but you still looked at Vil, who was getting his makeup touched up, with longing.

Neige had spent years beside you, matching your every step in dance scenes, cradling you in his arms, even kissing you once or twice. And yet, you’d throw all that away to be with someone everyone clearly thought fit a villainous role.

“You were born to be a heroine,” Neige said as warmly as possible, “Strong and loved by all the fans,” he took your hand in his and squeezed gently, “Not some scheming nobody, second place to the villain.”

Your brow crumpled, “But… it’s not about that. It’s about-”

“Don’t you like things the way they are,” Neige interrupted before you could think your way out of this, “We are the perfect pair. Our fans love us together. Why change something that works so well?”

Your eyes cast down to look at your hands in your lap. Neige nearly sighed in relief.

This was how it should be. 

He squeezed your hand gently, ready to land the finishing blow, “I don’t want to see you end up in a role that doesn’t suit you or get stuck with someone who doesn’t care for you as much as I do.”

Your eyes widened, your cheeks darkening a little.

Neige let himself bask in the way he flattened your resolve without lifting a finger. But just as quickly, your expression turned determined.

“But that’s exactly the problem,” you said, pulling your hand away, “I don’t want to do what everyone expects me to do. I want to try something different!”

His stomach dropped, his perfect mask nearly cracking down the middle.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the cute, innocent one he loved, but one steeled with resolve.

“I’m going to audition for the villainess role,” you declared determinedly, “And I think I can make it!”

With that, you skipped off to your rehearsal, smiling widely, leaving Neige sitting alone, fists clenched at his sides.

Fine. If he had to be the villain to get you to himself, then he would be the villain.

[rhyrhy]

Tryouts! - cold shoulders

Tryouts series | A.A

[content warnings:] language, heartbreak, descriptions of injury, r! Hates the world.

series masterlist | wc: 3.6k | previous

Damp long hair darkening her white T-shirt, an exhausted Abby clicked the door shut behind her, greeted by the familiar sound of her roommate’s study music. She wasn’t even sure if it helped Nora study—half the time she just danced around—but the notebook and laptop were out, so that was about as much effort as she’d expected.

The shower had done little to shake off the mess of her day… or the still-tender skin of her lip. Settling in front of her wall mirror, Abby met the eyes of her now-paused, shoulder-shimmying dancing roommate.

“Soo?” Nora asked, clearly hopeful for something she shouldn’t be.

“So?” Abby echoed, voice flat, giving her all she needed to know.

She dropped the smile, mouth falling open. “Nothing? Seriously? You are killing me, Anderson.”

“Yeah, and she’s killing me!” Abby groaned dramatically, tossing herself into her chair. Then, slipping into a voice mocking yours: “Oh Abby, you ruined my life. ‘Piss off, Abby!’ Like, alright. Cool. Just stab me next time.”

“She said that? …Mm.” Nora leaned back slightly, making a scissoring motion with her hands. “Time to cut that loose.”

“You’ll get ’em next time, tiger.” Nora gave her a dramatic thumbs-up before peering back down at her laptop. “Unless she does stab you first. In which case—I dunno—duck.”

“Very helpful. Thanks.” Abby muttered, turning back to the mirror, trying to shove down the stupid sliver of disappointment that was sticking to her ribs like gum on the bottom of a shoe. Felt like she’d hit a stalemate. Again.

As she finally crashed onto her bed, the hum of Nora’s speaker helped drown out the buzzing in her head. She didn’t mean to care. She really didn’t. But the disappointment was there anyway.

Maybe you just weren’t worth her time.

And apparently, your professor wasn’t worth yours.

Your head slumped forward onto the cold desk, out cold—sleeping so deeply you half-expected cartoon Zs and a floaty dream bubble to appear above you. The steady drone of a science lecture lulled you deeper, wrapping you in a weird dream. You didn’t even flinch as the last student packed up and left.

Until a dainty finger poked your shoulder.You shot up, eyes wide, already scrambling for an apology.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—“

Your professor just gave a tight-lipped smile, adjusting her bag. “No harm done, just…” A small sigh. “Try to get some rest after class next time.” Her voice held more concern than malice.

“Oh. Right. Thank you, Professor.”

You grabbed the paper she’d left on your desk like it was a life preserver, nodding again as she held the door open. You were used to people watching you. Born into it, honestly—your mom’s whole legacy thing. Big goals. Going pro. Winning titles. Doing everything she didn’t.

You were used to the eyes being on you. If anything, you’d grown to love it—thanks to your mother’s constant push to carry her legacy. Going pro. Doing it big. All the things she never did, now feeling like your responsibility.

But after a certain outburst, those stares felt like they held more weight than usual. With no practice to go to, you honestly just wanted a pint of ice cream and a warm blanket—something to forget about this whole week. Month. Hell, even the year.

And right before your fingers fully wrapped around the door, hoping to find solace in the parking lot, a familiar voice piped up behind you.

“Hey! There you are!—Jesus, you look…” Dina’s pitch rose slightly as she gave you a once-over. “…Wonderful,” she finished, smiling too hard.

“Weren’t you just lecturing me about lying?” you glanced over your shoulder.

“I—” Dina blinked, scrambling for an excuse.

“There you two are!” came a too-cheerful voice from behind.

“Saved by the teammate,” you muttered.

Josephine chirped with all the energy of someone who did not just sit—well, sleep—through a lecture. “Hi, Dina!” she grinned, then turned to you. “Hi, grumpy. I’m shocked you made it out of the dean’s office alive.”

“Barely.” You nodded, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Oh, enough with the depressing!” she waved off dramatically, nose already buried back in her phone. Her face lit up a second later. “Eeeek! You are so right—it’s going to be perfect. I’m telling you!”

You blinked. “Wait—what are we talking about?”

“The sun, the mountains, whatever snacks I want without Coach telling me to put them down,” Dina added, laughing to herself.

Lightbulb slowly flickering on. “Girls… What are we talking about?”

“The annual trip to—”

It clicked. Every spring, a few of the girls would go glamping, with a devastatingly long road trip to compliment it. The pictures of everyone in smiles and endless bug spray so you didn’t itch your skin off the bones. You remembered the last trip: sharing a tent with your then-girlfriend, jokes around the fire, blowing on your marshmallow when the white browned on the other end of your stick.

Whispering how much you loved her, excited to go into the next semester by her side. So much for that. The warm feeling of the memory paling to a shade of gray.

“Not going.” You said it bluntly, the words coming out faster than you could stop them.

“Yes, she is,” Dina said immediately. “Plus, you could use some relaxation.”

“Dina—” protesting began to ring out.

“Nope. Not listening. Let’s just focus on you not breaking any more noses.” Dina shook her head childishly.

“Oh, speaking of noses,” Josephine said, gesturing vaguely to a figure passing by in a soft pink cardigan, arms crossed tightly over her chest, a fresh bandage bridging the center of her face.

“Hopefully, she doesn’t need another. Pretty sure the last one was expensive.”

You were seconds from adding on—something biting, something that probably wouldn’t help—when Dina’s eyes snapped to her phone.

“Crap. We have to run.”

Right. Practice. You were still benched. So— “Break a leg!” you called after them.

“…It’s cheer?” Josephine tossed back, eyebrows raised.

“You’re right—break both.” You gave a mock salute.

“So funny. Try not to explode some more,” Dina said.

“No promises!” you shouted back. “But hey—if she wants round two, I’m free after lunch.”

“Girl, please,” Josephine groaned. “At least let me eat before I have to lie for you again.”

With a roll of your eyes, you finally pushed the door open. Freedom. Air. An escape. The air of the quiet parking lot hit your arms, goosebumps just as present as the uneasy feeling in your chest. The one that’s been lingering.

Pathetic. A word you never thought would suit you. But here you are, feeling like it, despite the small laughter. Taking a deep breath, you reopened your eyes—only to remember you’d left your wallet in your room. Great. You turned back around, heading in the opposite direction, ignoring the sound of whistles and feet on grass as you passed the field.

Your defeated posture gave you away—whether from a mile off or right up close. Pools of blue subconsciously followed your movement as you faded into the large building. Drawn back when a smack landed on her arm, Abby flinched. The sting had her hand flying up to wave off the figure who caused it.

“Ouch—hey!” A hissed breath followed.

“Earth to Anderson. Are you even listening?” A shorter Ellie corrected, nudging her side with her elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” Abby nodded, eyes flicking toward the now-closed door before landing back on her teammate.

Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Who are you even looking at?”

“No one. Relax.” Abby brushed it off, though she wasn’t sure why she was watching in the first place.

“As if she weren’t practically drooling the moment Miss ‘Give me a U, give me a W’ strutted by,” a teammate chimed in, mimicking Ellie’s gaze toward cheer captain Dina.

“She’s better at that than catching the ball,” Ellie fired back without missing a beat, clearly unfazed—maybe even a little entertained by her dramatic reenactment.

Abby smirked, tying her cleats a little tighter. “Better at that than you.”

Unlike yourself She didn’t have a helicopter parent, but she’d kill for one some days. After her dad passed, the distance with her mom became a canyon neither one tried to cross.

Still, the thought of him—of her dad being proud of her, of how far she’d come—was enough to keep her moving. The reason she pushed so hard. Took hits. Got back up. Led when no one else would. Sure, some of the team were assholes. But letting a few bad apples rot the whole basket? That was way too easy. Lazy. And she wasn’t built like that. As she took her place on the field, the tension of the hallway fight earlier replayed in her head—your words, your expression. No. She shook it off. She had work to do. Ellie was right, Focus.

The sun was high and mean, baking the field until cleats left prominent impressions in the turf. Abby didn’t mind. She just couldn’t help but focus on the memory of that face. The one she thought she’d erased.

But she hadn’t. Whistles shrieked across the yard as drills rotated, players moved like chess pieces, and Abby darted forward in a usual tight sprint.

“Defense, eyes up!” Her Coach bellowed from the sidelines.

She heard the rhythm of it before she saw it—a teammate pivoting on the left, the pass sailing slightly too far, Abby adjusting her step to intercept. She lunged, turning too sharply, positioning herself —and her foot landed wrong. A splintering pain darted up her leg as her ankle twisted inward. Her knee buckled. She hit the ground hard, a grunt bursting from her chest as her shoulder skidded against turf. Grass in her mouth, heat in her jaw, and white-hot fire in her ankle.

“Shit,” followed by another string of profanities, curling in on herself.

The silver whistle blew again. Longer this time.

“Goddamn it!” Coach immediately calls it “Anderson, off the field before you become a lawsuit!”

Abby scowled, biting down her pride as she dragged herself upright with a limp. The walk off the field felt longer than the drill itself. She dropped onto the bench with a muted thud, sweat running down her back. Her ankle throbbed in time with her heartbeat. And then—because of course—the doors to the rec building swung open. She looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you.

You, stepping out of the building, hands shoved into your hoodie pockets, face drawn and unreadable. You didn’t look over. Of course you didn’t. Abby didn’t know if she wanted you to. But that didn’t stop her eyes from following you until you disappeared down the path toward the parking lot. The whistle blew again. Practice was already wrapping. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Hey, Romeo.” A cold thwack hit her knee. An ice pack.

Ellie plopped down beside her, the sleeves of her hoodie rolled up, sweat darkening the collar. “You planning on icing your ankle, or just the girl who won’t even look at you?”

Abby shot her a dry look. “Shut up.” But she pressed the ice to her ankle anyway, teeth clenched when the cold hit.

Ellie leaned back on her hands, watching the last stragglers leave the field. “You’ve been staring at her all practice.”

“I haven’t,” Abby said, eyes forward.

“If this is your way of dragging me out of that mixer—don’t bother,” she said, voice flat.

“You should sit it out anyway,” Ellie replied. “Rest. Sulk. Rant to someone who actually wants to hear about your emotional spiral.”

Abby snorted. “That would require someone wanting to talk to me in the first place.”

“You could talk to her,” Ellie offered, after a beat. “Crazy idea, I know.”

“I said I’m not interested.” The words fired out too fast, too defensive.

Her teammates Long arms threw themselves up, in surrender .“Alright, if you insist. But I’m not playing doctor all night.”

“I can handle myself—while you disappear into the night with you-know-who.”

“I’m not gonna dip—”

“You did last time. You think I didn’t notice the inside-out shirt when you came back down?”

“That wasn’t intentional! And yeah, okay—cockblocked me!”

Ellie shook her head with a reluctant, joined-in laugh. “I’m going to be by your side tonight. I promise.”

“Holding you to it.”

A simple reply “I didn’t think any less.”

“Good,” Abby muttered, adjusting her ice pack. The promise of Ellie’s company was some what comforting.

“So, about that mixer…” Ellie trailed off, glancing at the campus flyer board nearby. The neon sign advertising Outdoor Movie Night flickered, promising “A night under the stars with free popcorn and all the classics.”

Sitting on your bed, casually eating ice cream while scrolling through your phone, you paused the scrolling to look at a picture of you and Valeria. It was a bittersweet reminder of better times. The weight of it hit you for a moment, but you quickly pushed it aside. The room was only lit by the soft glow of the TV when, suddenly, a pair of eyes appeared in the dark hallway. The flick of a light switch followed, and the room brightened.

“Jesus! You scared me.” You leapt up, the metal spoon slipping from your fingers and splattering ice cream across the floor. “—Why are you dressed up?”

Josephine stood there, grinning like she just won the lottery. “I’m going to the mixer. Mind if I borrow this?” She waved a yellow top in front of you, clearly hoping for a response.

You rolled back onto your side of the bed, unamused. “Oh, you mean the mixer I’m not going to?” you muttered, not bothering to look up as you scooped another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

Josephine didn’t even flinch at your lack of enthusiasm. She threw the shirt onto the bed, ignoring your sigh. “Actually, no. I’m joining you. You’re coming with me to the mixer”

You groaned, clutching the ice cream tub tighter. “Why do I have to go? Can’t I just rot in peace?”

Josephine raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. “You don’t rot in peace. You overthink in peace. Come on, it’ll be fun. You can sulk and complain all you want, but you’re still going. Free popcorn”

“I hate you. I hate Dina. I hate—”

“Yes, yes. Get dressed, drama queen.” The blonde rolled her eyes. Holding up different options to throw on.

“What’s wrong with this?” You gestured to your current ensemble—an oversized tee and sleep shorts. “Don’t answer that. I’ll change.”

You eventually settled into the event, tucked into a spot on the edge of the crowd. The oversized tee was replaced with a cropped white top and jeans, eyeliner reapplied with more times than you could count. Honestly, already missing your ice cream at home.

Feel the drying of your throat, Reaching into a blue cooler nearby, you pulled the lid open only to find soda cans bobbing sadly in barely-cold water. With a blank stare you spoke up

“These are warm,” you muttered, turning to someone nearby.

“I’ll get some ice,” they offered, but you were already moving. Knowing you’d probably be faster “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

You didn’t see any overly familiar faces on your way to the nurse’s office, but you did pass Ellie, her hair a little messy, cheeks flushed from whatever activity she’d gotten pulled into. You clocked it but kept walking. Not my business,you thought.

Abby, meanwhile, sat watching the movie. The crowd laughed at a cheesy punchline, but she barely registered it, focused instead on the warm weight of her now useless ice pack. She turned, ready to whisper for Ellie—

“Ellie, can you—”

But her seat was empty. She scoffed. “So much for promises.” Knowing she’ll ring her neck later.

With a resigned sigh, she stood and headed for the building. The hallway lights flickered as you tapped the switch a few times. Eventually, the room lit up—a hum from the ancient freezer in the corner, where bags of ice jutted out. You tugged one free just as the door creaked behind you.

Footsteps. A flicker of movement. You turned, and Eye contact.

It took you a beat to realize it was her. Abby. The light casting sharp shadows across her features. But you broke eye contact first, shifting your weight as if the awkwardness might evaporate if you pretended it wasn’t there.

You both moved quietly around each other, but your shoulder still brushed hers—brief, unintentional, but it certainly happened.

Your eyes dropped to her ankle, wrapped and clearly stiff. Should you ask?

“Are you following me now?” she asked, flatly.

You didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Abby. I planned my entire day around bumping into you and your broken foot at this exact moment.”

“It’s a rolled ankle,” she replied, dry. Choosing not to give the rest attention.

You glanced over her expression, unable to help the way Your mind flicked to the frat party. The flirting. The hands. The way you let her. The way it all fell apart moments later. What about you screamed ‘easy’. Did you overreact? No, she was being an ass and you had a rough few weeks. Unsure if that’s just justification The silence buzzed around yourself.

Watching as she shifted away from you to remake the ice pack for her foot. Your own task seeming less important, stepping back a little so she could finish.

The silence buzzed in your ears.

You watched as she shifted away to remake the ice pack for her foot. Your own task suddenly felt irrelevant. You stepped back a little to give her room.

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” she said quietly, the rustle of ice filling the space between you.

Your eyes darted away. “I’m not looking at you at all,” you bit back.

She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t take the bait. The usual sarcasm died on her tongue. Instead, she just gave a curt nod. “Good.”

She wrapped the ice pack, tying a makeshift brace around her foot. When she was done, she stepped back and eased herself down to sit near the door. Her gaze flickered to you, then away. Abby leaned back against the wall, the weight of the moment settling between you. She’d only come here for ice—but now?

Now it felt like something else. A sigh slipped from her lips.

“Are—dude, are you still mad about the party?”

“Who said I was mad?” You grabbed your own bag of ice from the freezer, trying to act casual.

Abby raised an eyebrow, her gaze skeptical. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” She shifted her weight, wincing slightly as her ankle throbbed. “So forgive me for thinking you might be just a little annoyed.”

“You’re not that important for me to be upset over,” you said with a shrug, forcing a smile as you closed the freezer door.

Abby let out a quiet, almost resigned laugh. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You didn’t say anything at first, just glanced away, suddenly aware of the silence hanging between you two. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, and it felt like you had to look away before the tension turned into something worse.

“Good talk,” you muttered, taking a step back, but Abby’s quiet chuckle stopped you.

“Yeah. Real nice.”

Before you could reply, Ellie poked her head into the room, her eyes bouncing between you and Abby. “Abs—everything’s… good?”

You didn’t answer, but Abby nodded, her jaw tight.

You didn’t look back. Just grabbed your bag and brushed past them both.

“Just catching up with old mistakes,” you said quietly.

“Ouch,” Ellie said, raising an eyebrow. “You two still doing that?”

“Apparently.” You heard the sarcasm in her m voice, as it fainted the further you got from the door.

“Yeah, so much for talking it out,” Ellie muttered, her gaze lingering a second too long before she turned and left.

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part seventeen: dream a little dream of me

word count: 1.6k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff

sixteen | seventeen | eighteen

The second date should’ve felt more awkward. It didn’t.

Alex had picked a science museum of all places—not exactly romantic on paper, but the look on his face when he pointed out the replica Mars rover was too earnest to judge. He had this habit where his whole face would light up like a lightbulb the moment before he got excited about something, and Y/N had already learned to clock it like a warning siren.

“So, technically,” he was saying, hands jammed in his jacket pockets as they strolled past a massive display on deep-sea robotics, “the algorithms used for this submersible’s sensor mapping were adapted from AI software developed for self-driving cars.”

“Technically,” she echoed, teasing, “you should probably just work here.”

He looked sideways at her with a crooked grin. “I applied when I was sixteen. They didn’t take me.”

“They’re clearly still recovering from that mistake.”

He tried to play it off cool, but she caught the slight flush of his ears.

She liked him more than she expected to. Not in the way you decide to like someone—more like how you step outside one day and realize the air smells like rain and suddenly, you’re soft and open and all the windows are down. He was like that: unexpected and quiet and warm around the edges.

They made their way through the rest of the exhibits in no particular order, weaving between dwindling crowds of families and groups of students on field trips, neither of them in a hurry. He let her take her time at the forensic anthropology section, where she ran her fingers along the raised edges of a reconstructed skull, and she let him lose himself in the physics wing, where he explained, with ridiculous enthusiasm, why the double pendulum was so cool. It was there that the nickname Professor Albon was born.

At some point, he took her hand. It wasn’t a big deal. He just did it naturally, without hesitation, like it had already been a habit, and for a moment, that simple touch made her feel warm all over.

They ended the night sitting cross-legged on the floor of the museum café, long after it closed, surrounded by vending machine snacks and a half-solved crossword puzzle she’d found in her bag. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a dim glow over the abandoned chairs and tables, but neither of them seemed eager to move. They laughed about everything and nothing, the kind of laughing that came from being tired but happy, the kind that made her lean into his shoulder without thinking.

"Okay," Alex said, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against the page. "Eight-letter word for ‘illuminates or clarifies’?"

As she took a moment to think it over, Alex watched in his periphery as she counted off the letters of her word on her fingers. "’Explains’ fits," she mused, popping a purple skittle into her mouth.

"Hmm." He scribbled it in. "Not bad. Maybe I should keep you around."

"Yeah, yeah," she nudged his knee with hers, grinning. "You just like me for my crossword skills."

"Wrong. I like you for your crossword skills and your terrible puns."

“My puns are great, thank you very much.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

He liked her brain. She liked how funny he was. They made a good pair—two academically overworked people who laughed at obscure engineering memes and played footsie under café tables without meaning to. When they said goodbye that night, he kissed her like he was trying not to smile through it. Like maybe this could really be something.

It felt easy.

And in the days that followed, it stayed easy. He texted her every night.

alex: Made the Mars rover jealous. Can’t stop thinking about you.

Y/N: did you just say that unironically. because I might have to stop seeing you on principle.

alex: Too late, I’ve already added you to my will. You get the Lego Technic collection.

Y/N: wait nvm i’m back in

They made time. Even when they both shouldn’t have.

He’d bring her coffee before her class–something with cinnamon and oat milk in it. He’d scrawl dumb physics jokes on the lid just to make her roll her eyes. She started keeping his schedule in her head without meaning to. She knew which nights he had his advanced systems class and which ones he spent buried in the lab. He’d text her when his simulations crashed at 3AM. She’d send him memes about courtroom drama tropes in return.

He had an engineer’s sense of humor—dry, sneaky, often deeply specific. It took a while to catch on, but once she did, it felt like discovering hidden easter eggs in his sentences.

“You know,” he’d murmur as they lay back in the grass near campus, watching clouds roll over like they weren’t chilly out here in the autumn breeze, “you statistically reduce your lifespan by two minutes every time you eat instant ramen.”

“Cool. So I’ll be dying a noble, sodium-rich death then.”

He turned his head toward her, smiling with closed eyes. “Hmm, a martyr.”

“A hero.”

“Buried with your books and MSG packets.”

She shoved his shoulder. He let her.

On Thursdays, she’d sit outside his lab, cross-legged on the cold tile floor with flashcards in her lap, quizzing him on his presentation slides about failure analysis and impact resistance.

“Okay, explain to me like I’m five—what is a stress-strain curve and why should I care?”

“Because,” he’d say, crouching in front of her with a smirk, “it tells you how close something is to breaking.”

“And that’s relevant to your research…?”

He gave her a confused look, until it turned sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m… not entirely sure about that bit, actually.”

She started looking forward to the moments in between—the walks across campus, the shared bag of chips while sitting on the hood of her car, the ridiculous voice memos he sent when he was overtired and delirious.

They kissed in stairwells and library corners and once,perhaps ill-advisedly, on a park bench in the middle of a thunderstorm. The rain had soaked through their clothes, cold and unrelenting, but he had just looked at her and said, "I think we should be stupid about this," right before he leaned in. It was impulsive and dramatic and made her laugh until she had to cover her mouth, their faces inches apart. Her hair was soaked, his glasses fogged up, and they almost dropped his backpack in a puddle, but the moment stuck—sharp and golden and untouchable.

They talked about future dates like there’d be dozens of them—bookstores they wanted to browse together, a tiny Thai place he swore by, a stargazing night he promised would be “scientifically optimized for romance” depending on the cloud cover. She rolled her eyes at that one, but her heart still fluttered.

They were still in the sweet spot—the space between maybe and more, where everything felt bright and possible. 

It wasn’t perfect – but it was promising.

The third date was dinner—some hole-in-the-wall Thai place with flickering neon signage and laminated menus stained with old curry thumbprints. He’d gotten lost on the way and sent a flurry of frantic texts.

alex :) : I passed the restaurant. Twice. There’s a cat staring at me through a laundromat window. I think it’s judging me.

Y/N: be strong. you can beat the cat.

alex :) : Negative, Sargeant. It’s very confident.

He’d arrived breathless, slightly damp from a drizzle, and holding a single packet of Skittles “for your efforts,” he’d said solemnly. She called him an idiot. He looked delighted.

That night, they talked about things that didn’t matter—TV shows neither of them had finished, foods they pretended to like for the aesthetic, the sheer horror of Alex’s undergraduate group project from hell (“We had a guy who thought duct tape was a structural solution”). 

And then, slowly, they talked about the things that did matter.

Like how she used to want to be a journalist when she was little, because she thought it meant you got to ask as many questions as you wanted and never had to apologize.

Or how he still wasn’t sure what kind of engineer he wanted to be—just that he wanted to make things that didn’t break when people needed them most.

“You know,” he said, nudging his glass in slow circles across the table, “you’re not what I expected.”

Y/N looked up. “Is that a good thing or, like, a 'you’re secretly a serial killer' kind of a thing?”

He smiled. “It’s a good thing. Really, really good.”

By the fourth week, they had a rhythm. It wasn’t just dates anymore—it was Hey, want to walk home together? and I saved you the last chocolate chip muffin, but only because I like you more than I like muffins. But barely.

It was him reaching for her hand without thinking, her resting her head against his shoulder on the bus when she was too tired to hold it up.

It was a shared Spotify playlist for when studying is ur 13th reason.

It was early Saturday morning sun filtering into her apartment while they quietly read their own books, his socked foot nudging hers on the side of the couch almost every ten minutes.

It was good.

But between the sleepy smiles and the shared muffins and the texts that kept getting longer instead of shorter, the truth was that they both had dreams. Big ones. All-consuming ones.

And no matter how much you wanted something—or someone—there were only so many hours in the day.

a/n: one of my more favorite chapters! an unfortunate lack of lando though :/ what did you think of it?

[brunettemarionette]

𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

↠ female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size.

a/n: pictures made by me, spoilers I guess if you haven't watched Deadpool? No warnings just fluff and dumbassery.

Some time after Deadpool & Wolverine, they get back together, and you're a total surprise for them despite the two wanting a baby before Vanessa died.

"So... are we having a Sonny or a Cher?"

Not being called either of those names and definitely not being called anything 'strippery'... or Wade Jr, Wada, Darth Wader and definitely not Todd, either.

No matter how much Wade worried about being like his dad, all that went out the window when you were actually born.

"I've only had a daughter for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I'd kill everyone in this room and then myself... come back to life fuck shit up and die again. Rinse and repeat."

Wade leaving you with Blind Al as a babysitter (sometimes she wouldn't even realize you're there).

"Wade, you can't just leave the baby with a blind person." *Surprise Pikachu Deadpool * "...ableist..."

I feel like Wade, at some point, either dropped you or you fell when you were a kid, but it's for the best since that's how he and Vanessa found out that you're a chip off the ole' block when you heal super fast.

Despite what Vanessa thought when they first agreed to make a baby, they did, in fact, make a 'super baby.'

Always following your 'Uncle' Logan around no matter how much he tries to get rid of you.

"'Babypool' go-... play or something, okay kid?"

Growing up surrounded by mutants means you never think you're different or a freak but instead becoming very protective of your mom. After a talk with your dad about your mom dying, you realize just how fragile people are.

Surprisingly, Wade makes a great girl dad. He does the tea party thing and, of his own accord, puts on the dress and clip earrings; he serves tea to the plush bears and scoffs when others mock him.

"Clearly, you people have no class."

As you got older, you started to look more like your mom, but no matter what situation you found yourself in, you could stop the snark, so much so that it earned you the nickname 'Mini mouth' – Wade was so proud.

Wade took you to the roof of the building to 'bond,' which Vanessa knew was him teaching you how to fight – something she was okay with until you both fell off the roof... more than once.

Them both knowing that despite wanting to give you a normal childhood and life you were going to be some kind or 'hero/antihero'. So they roll with the punches, and Wade makes sure you know exactly what you need to know about it.

"No, spermpool, red is my color. Just ask your mom when we-"

"Ew, Dad... and don't call me that."

On that note, investing in headphones was something you picked up the older you got, asking the store which ones cancel noise the best and then buying earbuds to go with them.

"Minipool, Girlpool, not-as-good-deadpool, Wishpool... ow... okay! We'll think of a better name for you!"

Despite you and your dad both being mercs who have been killed or hurt in every which way, your mom still rules the house. That's how you two find your katanas confiscated when you started playing 'Star Wars' during Thanksgiving.

Your dad makes a lot of Batman and Robin jokes when you're working together, only after he made a weird Batman and Catwoman joke until he realized why that was gross. So you became his Robin.

For someone so laid back about love and sex, Wade is very protective when it comes to you. Seeing the bad guys flirt with you, his deadpan snark reaches a few levels higher than his norm – it doesn't help when your mom hypes up your catsuit.

"I told you we should have gotten her a costume like what the lady three floors down wears."

“Red, that's a Muumuu.”

Being impulsive is like an inherited trait from both of them, which just makes up a chaotic household, and yet you all love every minute of it.

"One of the best things my dad ever gave me, not by choice, are these two gold-plated 50 caliber desert eagle pistoleros...."

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀

The Nights by Avicii

GDFR by Flo Rida

X gon' give it to ya by DMX

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Chaotic parents x Inherited Chaos (you)

Matching Family Energy

Dumbasses (wade, you) x Oh, those are my dumbasses (vanessa)

[dustmusings]

consequences be damned

Wolffe x F!Reader

word count: 3.3k

description: commander wolffe likes to berate you when you go against his orders, but this time, you can't supress the visceral reaction it brings.

warnings: not necessarily enemies to lovers but... a decent amount of arguing, mentions of negative clone treatment, i think that's it? idk man I'm tired

a/n: this is for all the girlies that cry when someone raises their voice at them! (me) anyway... i get nervous when discussing the treatment of clones and other kinda touchy stuff bc i just have this nagging feeling that i'm always interpreting stuff wrong, so I hope the stuff wolffe says at the end makes sense lmao

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

You heard your name called after you before you managed to make your escape to your quarters, desperately trying to avoid confrontation. Ignoring the Commander’s calls, you hurried down the hall, your strides much wider than your usual gait. You managed to get the door open, but a large hand wrapped around your wrist before you could evade the uncomfortable conversation.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Commander snarled, tugging you back into the corridor and slamming his fist into the control panel to shut the door.

You lifted your eyes to his for a moment, your head still angled to the floor as if it would shield you from his foul temper. You had never seen him so angry.

“I asked you a question, soldier” He said, his voice dangerously low as his face drew near to yours, “Did you really think I’d let you off after what you just pulled?”

“Sir, I didn’t mean to—”

Wolffe interrupted you with a sarcastic laugh, “Didn’t mean to? You’ll have to do better than that”

You couldn’t look at him. You knew he’d react like this when he found out, but you still hated when he was angry with you. He was more hard on you than his brothers, he always had been. So much so that you felt there was something unsaid between the two of you, that there was some itch that he wouldn’t stop scratching even though he wouldn’t acknowledge what it was.

“I’m sorry sir” You peeped out. It was the only thing you could say.

You had no explanation for your actions. You had gone directly against his orders, knowingly, deliberately. You knew he would find out, you knew he’d berate you for it, and you did it anyway. You’d do it again if you got the chance.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it” He began, and you let him scold you without interruption, “I have told you, countless times, you do not get involved in the conflict. No matter what. Do you know how it makes me look?”

He paused, but you knew the question was rhetorical. In that silence it was hard not to think about the feel of his hand wrapped around your wrist, still keeping you in your place.

“I makes me look like I can’t control those under my command. If a medic can go against my orders then what’s to stop the rest of the men? Or the other nat-borns? I mean, do you even think? Clearly you don’t. You don’t have combat training, you could’ve been hurt, or you could have died”

He continued on, but you tuned him out. You had heard this barrage of demeaning comments more than once, and it was starting to feel like maybe it had become one time too many. If you had any more backbone you would’ve told him how much you despised when he did this. Although, Wolffe — along with almost everybody aboard the ship — was above you in rank. You couldn’t possibly give back to him this belittling commentary, so once again you stayed silent.

The worst part was that most of the time, Wolffe wasn’t even unbearable to be around, far from it. At any other time he was kind, in his own way. It wasn’t a way in which you’d seen anyone else express kindness, but you’d come to understand the way he operated a little by now. For example, something you had retroactively realised was a display of compassion, was that when you first joined the 104th, he had checked up on you everyday, albeit not in a particularly cheerful way. He had made sure you were comfortable in your new quarters, the ones you were now stood outside of being reprimanded.

There was something gnawing at the back of your mind, the feeling that you shouldn’t have to put up with this. You could hear your father in the back of your head, telling you that you had to learn to stand up for yourself. You hadn’t looked up at Wolffe once through his ranting, and you didn’t plan on it either, especially now as you felt your eyes becoming heavy with tears.

It was a natural response. You never liked being told off, and right now you felt as if you were a child again, your parents giving you a lecture about your shortcomings. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in a similar manner, silent and unacknowledged.

You didn’t know when Wolffe had finished laying into you, but when you stopped reflecting on the past and came back to the present moment, you realised that he wasn’t speaking anymore. You hazarded a look at him, once again keeping your chin pointed down. He was just staring down at you, his scowl replaced in favour of a more uneasy frown, finally removing his hand from your wrist.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, clearly unsure of how to even approach the situation.

“I’m fine” You replied, and your voice was surprisingly even.

He was still just peering down at you through his creased brow, frozen in his place and out of his depth.

“Why are you crying?” He addressed the situation head on.

“I’m not crying”

“You are”

“I’m n—”

“You are”

You looked to your feet, feeling absolutely infinitesimal under the full scrutiny of his commanding presence.

“Alright fine, maybe I am” You admitted in a whisper.

“Why?” He asked firmly.

“No reason”

“No reason?”

“Yep, no reas—”

“Stop it” He interrupted again, “What’s wrong?”

You let out a long breath, your chest heaving before it escaped your pursed lips. You could taste the saltiness of your tears, and you lifted a hand to wipe one of your cheeks.

“I just don’t like being told off okay? I can’t help it”

“I wasn't telling you off, I was—”

When he didn’t finish his sentence your eyes flicked back up to his. His frown had softened, and he was now chewing on his lip as if he was looking for something to say. You huffed quietly, your cheeks scorching with embarrassment at the whole situation.

“If it's alright with you sir, I'd like to retire to my quarters now” You spoke quietly, trying to escape this situation that was nothing if not awkward.

Wolffe stepped back from you, clearing his throat, “Yeah, go ahead”

You turned back to your door and opened it up. You had only taken one step inside when Wolffe spoke up again.

“Wait”

You turned around, your eyes finding his, flitting between the cybernetic and the natural. His usual scowl was nowhere to be seen, and he just looked at you with a plain expression, something unreadable.

“I don't want to have to tell you off” He said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You mustered up a little courage after his change in demeanour, “Then why do you?”

His throat bobbed as he gulped, “I just want you to be safe”

The way that he was staring at you was entirely too much for you to cope with, so you lowered your gaze once again before you replied.

“Thank you sir, I appreciate that”

Wolffe reached up slowly, gently taking your chin and guiding your eyes to his. He gazed upon you with the utmost sincerity and apology as his thumb swept across your still-wet cheek.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you”

“That's oka—”

“It's not” He spoke resolutely, with no room for argument, then softened his voice a little, “You understand that I don't like to be angry with you, right?”

Something about your expression must have conveyed a sense of doubt, because Wolffe frowned when you didn’t reply.

“Do you really think-?”

“I don't think, remember?” You replied, in a oddly humorous way, despite the previous tone of the conversation. Wolffe gave you a disapproving look, and you backtracked, “Sorry Commander”

Wolffe was still holding you face, and the way his eyes were searching yours was making your stomach erupt into butterflies. His gaze was captivating, cementing you in place and rendering you speechless in a completely different way to when he had been scolding you earlier. You didn’t want to be the first one to break away, and thankfully Wolffe came to his senses soon enough.

“I should go”

He dropped his hand from your chin and stepped back. You nodded subtly in reply to his words, still unable to form your own, and he turned to leave with haste.

You watched him walk away as you leaned on your doorway, stalking down the hall with a pace to rival your hurried steps from earlier. His head turned back to you briefly, and you both instantly looked away, you stepping back into your room and closing the door as you felt your cheeks burn hot from being caught watching him.

It felt like something had shifted in your relationship, like something significant had happened. Perhaps it was your inadvertent show of vulnerability, perhaps it was the way his touch set your skin alight. Whatever it was, it was something that you couldn’t take back. Whatever was unsaid between you was coming to light, and you cursed your racing heart for getting ahead of itself.

You were crouched behind cover, your eyes locked on a trooper that had been knocked to the ground. He wasn’t moving, but going over to see if he was still alive was too risky, even if the focus of the enemy’s fire wasn’t in his direction any longer. You lingered, waiting to see even the slightest twitch of his fingers. He continued to lay motionless, his body sprawled in an uncomfortable position from the heavy blow he had received. You hoped, prayed, and they were answered in an instant, the man’s body curling in on itself as he groaned in pain.

You gulped, and slowly turned to look over your shoulder, only to see Wolffe watching you like a hawk.

“Don't you dare” He shook his head slowly, his voice low, almost a growl.

You hung your head a little, squeezing your eyes closed for a brief moment.

“I'm sorry Commander”

You rushed out from behind the cover, hearing your name being screamed after you in a desperate plea for you to do anything else. You didn’t pay attention, you were solely focused on making it to the trooper.

You pulled the man to his feet, throwing his arm around your shoulders and making your way back to cover, but you were not so lucky as to evade danger. Blasterfire ripped through the air surrounding you, causing you to duck out of its path, and take the injured man down with you.

“Get out of here!” The Commander shouted at you, stepping in front of you and shooting at the droids that had focused their fire in your direction.

You dragged to man the short distance back to cover, and as you were giving him a once over, assessing the issue, Wolffe ordered another medic to take over and tugged you further back from the front lines, around the corner of a crumbling building.

“What the kriff is the matter with you?”

He was angry. More angry than he had ever been, more angry than the previous rotation. And yet, there was a far clearer emotion swimming in his non-cybernetic eye, dripping from his pinched brows, washing over you with every heavy breath he exhaled. Worry, concern, utter distress.

“I thought I made it pretty clear that I don't want you anywhere near the action” He growled, evidently struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Despite his afflicted demeanour, you didn’t feel like having a repeat of the previous rotation, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins only sought to heighten you irritation.

“And I thought I made it pretty clear that I don't appreciate being told off” You grumbled back to him, not feeling brave enough to say it with your chest.

“Then stop doing stupid things!” He rebutted, his voice conveying every inch of exasperation he felt.

You shook your head as you dragged your gaze from him, starting to walk away. You weren’t going to be talked to like this again. For the second time in the last rotation, Wolffe’s hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back.

“I'm talking to you”

“Well I'm not talking to you” You snapped, snatching back your arm and finally letting your irritation take over.

At first, Wolffe appeared to be taken aback. You had never so much as argued back at him before, but something about the fire burning in his eye told you that it was welcomed. He wanted you to fight back. He liked that you were fighting back.

“I refuse to be reprimanded for doing the right thing” You continued, letting him hear your true feelings on the matter.

“You refuse?” Wolffe seemed almost amused.

“Yes” You replied, but your confidence was slipping, “I refuse”

Wolffe laughed, taking a step towards you, “And I suppose you think you have the authority to refuse my orders? Seeing as it's the only thing you can seem to do right”

You stepped away from him, but with every step you took, he followed after you. It wasn’t long until he had backed you into the wall, and was towering over you with a challenging look on his face.

“I have free will, is what I have” You puffed out your chest in defiance, causing it to come into contact with his chestplate, “And I will use it to do the right thing, consequences be damned”

“It must be nice to be you, huh?”

You just frowned, not entirely sure what made him say that.

Wolffe’s face became stern, “You just get to flit about, playing the hero when you could so easily become the martyr acting the way you do, claiming it's all about ‘free will’ and ‘doing the right thing’. Well guess what? I don't have those luxuries. If I disobey orders, I get court martialled. I don't have free will, and I don't get to do the right thing, I get to do as I'm told”

You swallowed thickly as your body recoiled from his in shame. From his perspective, your actions certainly seemed silly and plainly misguided. Perhaps they were.

“I'm sorry Commander, I didn’t think—”

“No, you don't think, do you?” He retorted quickly.

You frowned deeply, drawing an enervated sigh from Wolffe.

“I would love to be able to consider what is right and wrong, but I am simply not allowed. Having the ability to think, to form thoughts unique to myself, but not get to enact any sort of ‘free will’, it's—” He breathed deeply, his forearm coming to rest on the wall beside your head, “Oh, the things I would do if I had free will”

His eyes bored into you through heavy eyelids, his self control hanging by a thread. He was so close to you, his body pressing yours into the wall, and it was taking all of your strength to not melt against him.

“What would you do?” You spoke softly, guiding him in the right direction.

He didn’t waste any time in replying.

“I would tell you that the reason I don't want you around the action, the reason I can't stand your stupid moral compass which makes you do stupid things, is because the idea of you getting hurt is my own personal hell. I would grab you and hold you close and keep you safe, I would never let you go. I would—” He puffed out a quick breath, mingling it with your own as he drew impossibly closer, “I would kiss you, and do every other thing I've been dreaming of since the first moment I met you. I would throw all of this away, if I got that chance”

There was not a single one of his words that were processing in your brain. For a moment you just stared at him, shocked, before the surprise melted from your face and you offered every measure of tenderness within you in a single look.

“Wolffe” You whispered, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek.

His eyes closed at your touch, and his troubled expression eased slightly. He let out a shaky breath as he took in the warmth of your skin on his, but as soon as he had revelled in it for a moment too long, he put up his walls again.

“But it doesn’t matter, because I don't have free will” He stepped back from you but you were determined now, following after him.

“Well I do”

You practically leapt at him, your hands finding the back of his neck and pulling him against you, bringing him into a searing kiss. His hands instantly flung around your waist, tightening around you and drawing you into his body as if he was never going to let go, just as he promised. It was as if he only needed you to be the one that initiated it, and now, he had forgotten everything that was stopping him in the first place.

You let your fingers tangle in the curls at the base of his neck, and he pushed you backwards into the wall again, a soft groan sounding in the back of his throat. One hand came up to cup your cheek, and you were surprised at how softly he held you, a direct contrast to the way that he was devouring your lips, consuming your very soul with only his mouth and tongue.

You had to pull away, gasping for breath, and he did the same. He held you close as you both caught your breath, staring into each other’s eyes with a newfound fondness. It was intoxicating, to see him like this; his chest heaving from having kissed you with such an intensity. You felt like your psyche was being ripped from you with each heavy exhale, and you were watching from outside of your body.

“I'm never letting you go now” He continued to hold onto you like his life depended on it, burying his face in the exposed skin of your neck.

“I thought-”

“Don’t” He rumbled, “I don't care what I said before, there's no going back now”

You sighed blissfully and mirrored him, and coiling your arms around his neck and holding him tightly. The feel of his breath against your neck was heady, deeply exhilarating, but in the quiet of the moment, you couldn’t help but remember you were in the middle of a battle.

“Maybe we should-”

He lifted his head and cut you off with a deep kiss. You were powerless to stop him, but you didn’t care to anyway.

“Just a little longer” He pleaded, his eyes soft and slightly widened, “Please”

You let a small smile lift the edges of your lips, enamoured by the soft side that this kind of treatment brought out of him. It was almost amusing, how different he was acting as compared to his usual authoritative demeanour. He was putty in your hands, and you didn’t quite know how to handle it.

You brushed your lips lightly against his and spoke with a teasing edge, “Yes sir”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565

[misctf]

Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?

You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.

“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.

“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.

But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.

You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.

And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.

When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.

The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.

“Hey, you good?”

“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”   

He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.

“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!”  You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.

But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.

The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.

“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."

“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”

“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”

“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.

You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.

“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”

You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.

[robin374]

alastor x daughter reader angst If you do, you will be very happy. The reader does not know that he is his father and when he finds out, Alastora will be very angry. PLSSSS

ehem thanks <3

𝔊𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔪𝔢

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 : Alastor x Reader, platonic

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: Hola. I got too carried away sorry if it's too long. BRUH I JUST FINISHED AND I PASSED THE WORD LIMIT, let me just do a part 2 LMAO

Back when you were alive, you were an orphan. You couldn't remeber who your parents were, but you were angry. You were angry at everything and everyone, if they didn't love you when you were born why didn't they kill you? Was it necessary to abandon you? You didn't want to meet them and start over again as a happy family like your friends at the orphanage dreamed. You wanted to meet them so you could make sure you never talked to them again. Then, when you died, you wandered around Hell. You didn't exactly have a house, you just strolled around the city, maybe even killing someone to let your rage out. For someone who had deer resemblace you were quite agressive, to be honest.

You had died young, in your 17th birth to be exact. You bumped into a group of drunk men, they were drunk enough to pick a fight against whoever crossed paths with them, and you happened to be there. You just didn't survive. You may had born crying knowing nothing about life, but you died with that youth rage and you blamed it on your unknown parents.

One day, you were sitting on the floor reading a book you stole time ago when someone stopped in front of you. You didn't lift your head, you just flicked your gaze to the black dressing shoes and red pants that the person was wearing. "What do you want." You didn't ask, you demanded. "I...I have been informed that you were alone and homeless. So, I've decided to give you a room at my hotel, The Hazbin Hotel!" It was a girl's voice, the Princess of Hell's voice. You recognized her from seeing her singing around the streets not long ago. "Why would I want to go there?" You asked closing the book and putting it inside your bag. "It's just a hotel with a porn star and a pathetic victorian snake. I would prefer to sleep next to a rat with rabies than that, so, thank you but no, thank you." You started to walk away from her, you didn't even want to see her face. You knew you just had been mean to Lucifer's daughter, but she didn't even seem like it. You scratched a spot near your antlers, since you became a demon you didn't manage to get used to them. Then, a shadow appeared out of nowhere and it transformed into a tall man, who smiled at you.

"Now, that's not the best way to talk to someone, sweetheart." He said, his voice was accompanied with a stereophonic effect, it sounded like the radio you used to have in your room when you were alive. "Do I know you?" You said as you straightened your back to look more challenging. He just laughed, which clearly offended you a bit. "You should."

How did he manage to smile for so long? You couldn't remeber the last time your lips drew a genuine smile on your face. You were always with a frown on your face, angry, furious. "You seem to be quite the rebel, aren't you?" He said and before he ruffled your hair you flinched away. "Don't touch me." You hissed. "Ooh the fawn is angry," he laughed causing you to frown even more. "Where is your mother? Did a hunter shoot her?" He smiled even more -if that was even possible- you clenched your teeth and your ears curved downwards, you were trying so hard to not to hit him right then and there, who did he think he was? "Okay, let's calm down. How about you come to my hotel, stay one night and then you decide if you want to stay or not?" The princess smiled, her smile was kinder. You scoffed, "if that means that you won't bother me anymore, alright." They started walking down the street with you, it was the first time you walked with someone by your side. You expected it to be a silent walk but you were wrong, the blonde girl talked you about how she planned to redeem a lot of demons when she got the proof that they were able to do it.

While you were walking up the hill that led to the hotel, your gaze fell on the radio tower coming out of one side. You didn't pay attention to the strange Zeppelin or the huge letters that spelled 'Hazbin Hotel' you just looked at the radio tower. You heard a radio static near you, you didn't pay attention to it though, thinking that it was the coming for the tower. Once you were inside, you were greeted with more people that you thought. Of course, the porn star Angel Dust was there and wasted no time in flirting with you not even knowing you gender. "Oh you're the quiet type? Let me see what that mouth does, pretty please." He pouted and you raised your brow. If that was what he wanted, he would get it. "Get the fuck away from me." You said, shoving him away. Then, you heard a deep chuckle and you turned to your side, you noticed a black cat with wings laughing at the white spider. He had a bottle in his hand. Charlie, made you greet everyone there, but her brows frowned in confused way the moment she didn't find someone called Nifty.

You were about to walk towards the bar when you hit something with your foot. You heard a high pitched voice laughing and telling you to hit her again. You stepped back from the small woman with a scared face and your ears curved downwards. "Hi! I'm Nifty, I clean." She quickly climbed up your body and stopped at your face, her big eye looking intensely at you, you swore she could read your mind. "You are very young to be dead, what happened to you? Oh! What's your name?" She shook you, she was surprinsingly strong considering her small body. "Tell me everything." She growled. "My name's Y/N." You said, and ignored again the radio static, had it been sounding this whole time?

After greeting everyone, you told Charlie that you wanted to rest and she showed you your room. You closed the door and let your body fall in the bed. Even though you didn't want to admit it, you had the feeling that this couldn't be as bad as you thought. It had an old-fashioned aura that made you feel at home, somehow. You hadn't felt like this for a long time, you were always running away from demons that wanted to kill you, harass you, make a deal with you... You were at peace here.

PART 2 HERE

I AM SO SORRY

[yan-lorkai]

Could I request a Yandere! General Lilia x Male! Reader, platonic of course.

It’s a bit long, but basically, back during the war between Fae and humans, Reader was a soldier on the human side and stood along the frontlines against the Fae, but he didn’t necessarily hate them. His feelings were more neutral towards them, and this entire bloodbath. He didn’t have a reason to anyway as they were only trying to protect their home, something he could completely understand, so even though he was fighting against them, he refused to have any fake blood on his hands. With that being said, he never did kill anyone on the battlefield, more like he’d quickly shoo them away behind his superiors back, challenging the risk of being seen as a traitor and also helping the side of the "enemy." It’s when he’s doing this that he gets caught not by his human superiors but by the Fae general himself, aka Lilia, but like before, he can even say anything, the reader basically shoves an injured Fae soldier in his arms and tells him to play dead for like 5 seconds before someone catches him in the act.

The battlefield was a chaotic blur of clashing steel, shouts, and the acrid scent of smoke. The skies had darkened, as if the heavens themselves mourned the violence taking place below. Soldiers in armor, both human and Fae, clashed viciously, their cries echoing across the plains. The war between Fae and humans had raged on for what felt like an eternity, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair.

Yet, despite the madness, there you stood — not entirely committed to the bloodshed, your gaze sweeping over the chaos with a strange sense of detachment.

You weren’t here out of hatred. For you, this was just a duty, a responsibility forced upon you by circumstance. The Fae weren’t monsters to you. They were just... different, but humans hated everything that was different. They hated themselves for the color of their skin, their religion, their culture.

Maybe the real monsters are humans.

And even though you were meant to see them as enemies, you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate them. They were defending their home, just as much as the humans were fighting to protect their own. It was a war born out of fear and misunderstanding, and the thought of adding to the bloodshed turned your stomach.

That’s why, even though you were a soldier, you had never taken a life on the battlefield. You found other ways to contribute — distracting your superiors, sabotaging strategies that would cause unnecessary harm, and, most controversially, secretly helping the Fae escape whenever you could, so far you had saved 10 faes.

It was risky, and you knew if you were caught, it could mean being branded a traitor. But as long as you could help even one person avoid this senseless bloodshed, it was worth the risk.

And today was no different. You knelt beside an injured Fae soldier, his breathing labored, blood staining the ground beneath him. His wings, once majestic, were tattered and caked with dirt. He looked up at you with a mixture of confusion and pain, clearly not expecting a human to approach without raising a weapon.

“Shh,” you whispered, glancing around to make sure none of your fellow soldiers were watching. “I’m going to help you, but you have to be quiet.”

The Fae soldier’s eyes widened, but he nodded, biting back a groan of pain. You quickly tore a strip of fabric from your own cloak and began bandaging his wounds, your hands moving with a practiced efficiency. “I know this isn’t much,” you muttered, “but it’ll stop the bleeding long enough for you to get out of here.”

The sound of footsteps approaching made your heart leap into your throat. You turned your head sharply, spotting the shadowy figure of a man approaching, his armor unmistakable even in the chaos.

It was the Fae general, Lilia Vanrouge, Princess Meleanor's Right Hand man. His presence was like a dark specter on the battlefield, moving with a grace and ease that made it seem as though the war could not touch him. His crimson eyes glowed, sharp and alert, and you knew there was no way he hadn’t noticed what you were doing.

For a moment, panic gripped you. If he saw you helping one of his own, what would he do? Would he see you as an ally or as just another human with a hidden agenda? But before you could even think about how to explain yourself, your instincts took over. You grabbed the injured Fae soldier by the shoulders and, with a firm yet gentle push, shoved him into Lilia’s arms.

“He’s hurt,” you said quickly, your voice low but urgent. “Make him play dead for five seconds before someone else sees, I don't know. I did everything I could but I'm human, I don't even know if your medicine is different from ours.”

Lilia blinked, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. For a moment, he just stood there, the injured Fae slumped against him, confusion evident on his face. This wasn’t a scenario he had expected — a human soldier, handing over an injured Fae as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He glanced down at the soldier, then back up at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft and melodic, “this is certainly a twist.”

“Please,” you continued, your tone still urgent. “Just… do it.”

The general’s smile widened, and he inclined his head slightly as if indulging you. “Very well.” With a deftness that spoke to his years of experience, he adjusted his hold on the injured soldier, positioning him so that he looked lifeless, his head lolling to the side.

To anyone passing by, it would seem like Lilia had simply found another fallen comrade.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your shoulders relaxing slightly. But before you could turn away, Lilia’s voice stopped you.

"Why are you doing this?"

You made yourself this question many times. That specific question made you turn around on your bed, yet there was never a satisfying answer. You looked at him.

"Because I don't like this bloodshed. It doesn't even make sense." You looked at his pointy ears and armor. "We hate you because you're different or because we're greedy and want your land? Either way, I will not partake in this war."

A hushed sound caught your attention - it sounded like voices. Human voices. The sword on your hands was a cursed, heavy piece of steel. You looked at Lilia a last time. He was still staring at you, red eyes glowing as he watched your uneasy.

"Perhaps in another life, we wouldn't have to fight." You said softly, like a farewell. "You seem cool enough for a fae. Goodbye, general," You joked.

Making clear that Lilia wasn'tgoing to secretly follow you, you changed courses, walking through a muddy path to meet up with your superiors.

A knot was tied to your neck with the thought of having to spend time with them, hearing how they desecrated the fae.

Perhaps, in another life, things wouldn't be that way... Well, you hope.

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 19 Review

‼️SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER‼️

Y'all I remember when I used to think that the chapter cover was supposed to be a yumalia shower scene from that one ankama tweet mentioning Cathiane 😭😭😭😭

Like idk why we thought that this would've been THE shower scene that Ankama had mysteriously mentioned through a meme of all things. I can't speak for everyone, but the reason why I personally thought that this would've been a yumalia shower scene was because I thought that her hair seemed like it wasn't tied up in the chapter cover. And whenever we'd see her hair let loose in the Great Wave, it would usually mean that she'd be dominating Yugo or would share a very intimate moment with him.

This chapter ended up being the latter. Because it wasn't a shower scene.

It might be something related to it.

But before I explain all that, let's first focus on where we left off with Joris explaining Grougalorasalar's deal to Yugo and Amalia.

I mean Yugo come on....

I get that Grougalorasalar is a hottie who likes to cause shitty problems for everyone due to his color but the only people in Yugo's race that ended up being big deals for the world were Yugo himself, Qilby, and their mother the Goddess Eliatrope. Three people aren't a lot to suddenly have the world's nations hate an entire race but when these very same three people are supposed to be two primordial eliatropes and their goddess, then yeah...you might have fucked up a bit too hard.

Joris agrees.

Omg yes, Joris hates his past tormentor, but even he thinks that he's right in a sense.

"Do what I tell you, not what I do."

PLEASE OMG HE COULDN'T HAVE SAID IT ANY BETTER‼️‼️‼️

I love how JORIS just soothes his tired eyes and describes Grougalorasalar in only a few words while clearly looking disappointed but not surprised.

Like THIS is literally Grougalorasalar's quote! If someone had to describe him in a few words, THIS WOULD BE IT.

He's such a hypocrite but in a way that makes him aware of his actions and yet doesn't give a shit cuz he's strong af and can do whatever the hell he wants. Running away isn't an option, this guy WILL DIE TRYING TO MAKE HIS POINT AND NO ONE WILL MAKE HIM THINK OTHERWISE.

The royal osamodas family needs to take some notes. Write these traits down, you inferior wannabe antagonists ✨️✨️✨️

Are we surprised? No lol

Well shit.

Guess that wave is coming after all.

LIKE OFC DADDY DRAGON LOVES FIGHTING!!! HE PROBABLY THINKS TALKING IT OUT IS LIKE THE MOST CORNIEST THING YOU CAN EVER DO.

What Joris said: "It would be best if the fight happened in his territory."

What Joris actually said: "Rasalar is gonna catch some bodies anywhere else. Fight him where he lives. Like that, he'll only ruin his own place."

😭😭😭😭😭😭

Seriously how big is Luis's extended archive room?????

They got a library that looks like an illuminated underground village, a small secret passageway that leads you to Joris's private room, and a freaking side room showcasing a board with connected maps and research on each of the primordial dragons' locations....

So in a nutshell, Joris is a hoarder, an analyst, a theorist, a lost media collector, AND a stalker lol

We stan Joris's messy lifestyle ✨️✨️

Makes sense, really.

The primordial dragons were born here with the world. So they originated in a certain beginning point of the world and made it their own place.

This would explain why we saw Dardondakal inside a floating rock in the middle of the ocean while being protected by invisible barriers. It was because that was his own "source location".

Oooooohh is Yugo gonna bring back the entire gang??? 🥰🥰🥰🥰 OMG WHAT IF THE REASON WHY TOT DECIDED TO MAKE SEVEN GREAT WAVE VOLUMES WAS BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO SEE THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE TOFU REUNITING AGAIN!? This would actually be so cute. They would all end up going to one of those dragon locations together while getting into all kinds of problems just like they did back in Seasons 1 and 2! The idea sounds so nice to think about because come on, you're telling me you don't miss the gang solving problems together all around the world while they were getting closer to their goal? If that's what's going to happen, THEN SIGN ME UP!! We'll get to see them all interact with each other just like in the good old days, except that Pin and Elely will be there (without Flopin...). Or maybe they'd most likely have Goultard babysit them while the rest leave lol. It's better to have a iop babysitter for iops than anything else 😭😭 And Adamaï will most likely have to stay in the Sadida Kingdom for Yugo and Amalia's sake again 💀💀💀💀

But what I would really love most of all, would be to see these adventures WITH A GROWN UP YUGO HELL YEAH BABY ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

That is, IF Tot wants to bring back the old adventuring days lol

Yugo.

Yugo who did you give it to.

Last time we saw the Eliasphere, it had been kept in the Eliatrope goddess's garden during Yugo and Amalia's (unconventional) ceremony.

So like....Did Yugo move it around after a few days or was it because of Harebourg in season 5 fucking around and finding out?

Either way, there was a reason, and I think it must've been the latter. I think Harebourg might have been the cause. Because the Eliasphere had been kept in the garden since the sadidas and eliatropes knew that touching it could fuck them up. Which meant that none of them would be stupid enough to try to take it. Besides, the Eliasphere has a defense mechanism anyway. So maybe when Harebourg had fused with the Eliacube, he might have been capable of taking it during Season 5 (I'm only speculating here) without getting attacked by it since the artifact recognized Orgonax's heart inside Harebourg. After some fight with him, Yugo might've realized the danger of keeping the Eliasphere out in the open like this so he gave it to....

He decided to give it to....

Bonta.

So....queen Astra technically has it in her possession.

Like it's painfully obvious that it's Bonta who has it now, given that it zooms at Bonta's Kingdom as soon as Joris says that Yugo didn't give it to him!

At first, I was incredibly perplexed as to why Yugo gave it to Bonta's queens. But when I thought about it some more, the decision to give it to queen Astra...actually made some sense.

Before Season 4 came along, we've never actually seen the world nation rulers' opinions of Yugo and his people.

But when the necromes attacked and Yugo had to explain the situation to the rulers of the world, we were able to fully grasp what each of those kings and queens thought about him.

The Brakmar King and his general unsurprisingly hate him and his people (but I'm sure they initially started hating him first for making a mockery of their court justice, defending Kriss Krass, and creating a chain of events that would make their best boofbowl player enrage them for her gender reveal and making her fight for women's rights lol)

Astrub and Amakna's governors didn't even waste a breath and told him to scram.

And even the Sufokia Empress told him that he was being delusional.

Count Lance Dur hasn't been shown talking to them, but there are no clues hinting that he might have been given the task to keep the Eliasphere. Sure, he spoke to Adamaï and they did get along, but Yugo had no connection with him.

So in general, every single ruler specifically rejected him as well as his people.

All except for queen Astra.

Her conversation with Yugo ended much more differently.

Unlike the other rulers, Astra welcomed Yugo and even told him to stop kneeling so he could properly stand up. She told him this because according to her, he was also a ruler and had also saved the world countless times. She recognized his efforts and accepted him. Joris might have also played a huge factor in this since he does present himself as Bonta's representative which means that he tells Astra everything that's going on, including his moments with Yugo, making him one of the reasons as to why she is at ease around Yugo.

But the second Nora, a complete stranger, tries to stand up as well, Astra forbids her and commands her to stay kneeling. Even when Yugo tries to explain that Nora is his sister, Astra doesn't back down.

This is crucial to remember because this tells us that Astra believes in Yugo, but not his people. He's not a stranger to her. He's not a burden. He's a hero in her eyes and a king. But his people? She considers them to be strangers and outsiders of a world they had never been in. She finds them strange and dangerous.

And now that the Eliatrope goddess left with most of her children, this only leaves Yugo and some of the elite eliatropes who helped the sadidas during the necome war. Without the Eliatrope goddess's presence, Astra might feel less tense about Yugo's people since there aren't too many in the world now.

So given that she's the only royal in the world who seems to appreciate Yugo, this only pushes us to further believe that she might have been the one who is now in charge of keeping the Eliasphere in a safe place.

Remember how chapters 16-17 had these two morons just blatantly sitting down at Kerubim's place without any security???

Well here they are CASUALLY WALKING IN PUBLIC AS IF THEY WEREN'T ROYALS.

Is anyone around them not bothered by this??? I get that they might have not brought any security because they could technically kick ass very easily if something did happen, BUT COME ON NOW!!!

You got the literal SADIDA QUEEN WHO'S WALKING WITH THE ELIATROPE DEMIGOD KING FROM ANOTHER PLANET RIGHT NOW.

Back when they were kids, it was much easier to blend in with the crowd. BUT NOW THAT THEY'RE OFFICIAL HEROES AND RULERS OF A FREAKING KINGDOM, THESE TWO IDIOTS ARE STILL CASUALLY WALKING LIKE RANDOM CITIZENS AS IF THEIR JOBS ISN'T RULING A FREAKING KINGDOM AND GUARDING AN ANCIENT TREE OF LIFE.

Also why is no one stopping them or looking at them?? They're clearly walking in a busy road of the city, do these people seriously not recognize who they are??? They should at least be glancing at them for looking so out of place! My god these people are dumber than iops.

Amalia...Honey.

The trees are still technically there.

They just ended up being roofs now.

It's for a good cause, I swear ✨️✨️

Amalia's over here explaining the tree's deforestation process to Yugo while he's swimming (HAHA GET IT!?!?!?!?) in his own inner turmoil.

Alright people.

This is where we can finally discuss that yumalia tweet shower scene being linked to this chapter.

So I've mentioned that this shower scene could happen in a later volume because of what Yugo and Amalia will be discussing right now.

Yugo tells Amalia that he's pretty much grown tired from the constant threats and enemies they've had to fight back to back due to his actions/choices he has made in the past.

He's had enough and just wants to take a break from it all. He wants to spend those free moments with Amalia.

And he doesn't just want a vacation...

DRUMROLL 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️🥁‼️

👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁👀🥁

⁉️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️

GUYS I CALLED IT I FUCKING CALLED IT‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

THIS THIS WAS WHAT MADE ME WAIT FOR TOT TO FINALLY CONFIRM IT FOR US

I'VE BEEN WAITING AND I'M SO HAPPY I FUCKING CALLED IT SINCE SEASON 3‼️‼️‼️😭‼️😭

I am SO FUCKING GLAD that Elely's foreshadowing back in season 3 MADE ABSOLUTE SENSE!!!

I just knew that if we ended up thinking about potential yumalia kids for the future, WE WOULD GET TO FINALLY SEE THAT THEY COULD ACTUALLY MAKE SOME TOGETHER!!!

I get that when season 4 ended, we knew that these two would've eventually thought about having children since Amalia is the last of her bloodline and will have to produce a new heir.

BUT IT'S STILL SO FUCKING AMAZING THAT YUGO GETS TO SAY IT OUT LOUD RATHER THAN SEEING THEM KNOW WHAT TO DO WITHOUT SAYING IT OUT LOUD!!

Yugo. Buddy.

If Dally managed to have a kid WAY BEFORE MARRIAGE with Eva, then don't worry. You're both adults now. It's not too soon and definitely not too late. You lovable idiot.

ALSO WTF!?!? I'M PRETTY SURE THAT AFTER ALL THE IMPLIED SEX THEY HAD, SOME OF US HAD THIS THEORY THAT AMALIA MIGHT'VE BEEN PREGNANT WITHOUT REALIZING IT.

But nope. It looks like they used protection or something. But I obviously don't believe it lol Amalia would DEFINITELY want no barriers or restrictions between them. I guess she just got lucky enough not to have gotten pregnant so many times (it is possible because it does actually happen but it's so funny when you look at these idiots).

Yugo has so many enemies, and the one time he tells her he wants a family is right after they're getting threatened by a PRIMORDIAL DRAGON.

Bro has such shitty timing I swear lol

He's over here with clear eyebags asking her to have his kids 😭😭😭😭😭

Now as funny and stupid as that sounds, I'm honestly not that shocked.

I recently talked about this with @geekgirles because if there's one thing we can say about this interaction is this: Can you imagine how incredibly hard it is for an ancient adventurer to take a break from adventuring???

Yugo had MILLIONS of lives, and all of them had been about ADVENTURING.

The twelvians were incredibly pushy and judgemental to the point where Yugo's optimism just completely faded away, WHEN IT WAS ACTUALLY A HUGE PART OF HIS PERSONALITY. He's genuinely tired of everyone and everything that keeps pointing fingers at him when they haven't even looked at themselves in the first place.

It's not that Yugo's unaware of his situation. He's just so fed up with everyone that he just ended up getting used to all the attention as if those were normal occurrences.

That's why he just asked Amalia for his kids out of the blue. Bro isn't fazed about the danger anymore. He just treats this as a normal tuesday.

Guys.

This is where we'll get to see that mentioned shower scene that Ankama tweeted at Cathiane.

We've come to finally talk about what I meant by that tweet.

So if you saw it, you should know that Ankama, for some unfathomable reason, tweeted Cathiane and sent her a yumalia shower meme. Then Cathiane replies with... "Saw the notif and panicked...”

I bet that Yugo and Amalia will get to go on vacation and only fuck. Like straight up just fuck. And we'll get to see it. And one of these scenes will have that one shower scene.

Omg. I actually fully believe this to be the case.

This is gonna happen.

One of the future volumes (which Tot said that there will be seven in total) will just end up having all the chapters with BIG ASS LABELS IN RED WORDS SAYING "FOR MATURE AUDIENCE" like in chapter one lol

And there it is folks.

That kiss panel that we've seen being used as a sneak peak a few months ago for the second volume. Absolutely perfect 💖💖💖