#I never stumble on shit I hate unless looking for it or someone else put it in my dash or tl or actually asked me about it

[dykedvonte]

Mouthwashing is genuinely one of the first fandom spaces in a while where I’ve seen people outright refuse to curate their own personal spaces and try to shame people for not making what they personal like/believe

Like this is not saying ignore any issues that come up or whatever is serious but like on the general terms of just not interacting with things that are not your personal take or interpretation, a genuine refusal to just look at and create things that you like.

Constantly seeing people repost art without credit to shit talk it and excusing it because “well it’s bad cause insert deeply personal and not actually a valid justification”, calling out people for silly comics or differing interpretations. Its not just a holier than thou mindset it’s just a weird hatred for things not specifically catered to you or your view point at this point and like it’s seriously the case of just follow and like what you want to see and block, mute or whatever doesn’t fit it.

Take this out of context all you like, but I just so odd to me to try and force people to interpret and engage with a media that is supposed to be purposefully vague and open in certain areas. Or just be mad that people like to play with and explore the characters outside the story, in different settings or with twists in events.

Like why is it an issue that someone is having fun with the game in a different way than you?

[velvetvexations]

I was commissioned to write how I'd torture someone without minding for how sexy other people may or may not find it. To my genuine but pleasant surprise the commissioner really did love it, so I thought I'd post it on here.

Warning:

The following artistic exploration of a hypothetical relationship between a dom and sub is very intense, and portrays extreme abuse that should never happen IRL, so please take the time to think about if that may be triggering for you before clicking through. It's told in the second-person, which may make it worse. Content warning for physical abuse, emotional abuse, non-con, drugging, unsanitary, gaslighting, isolation, misgendering towards the dom, and ableism.

Please keep yourself safe, your comfort matters. <3

Object of Affection

The day starts with you walking groggily into the dining room in nothing but the underwear I’ve been making you wear for a couple of weeks now. You look like you have eyes full of sand. You’re late, by the way. I’d have liked us to have left the house thirty minutes ago, but you had to sleep in.

You’re so selfish. But I forgive you.

You look directly at my breasts, because that’s the center of my personality and you have to address it like you would anyone elses face, and start to say something stupid, I don’t really care what. My hand is smacking into your face before you can get the full sentence out. That’s how I say good morning, sometimes. I laugh and tell you how cute you are, stumbling around like you’re drunk. The medicine I put in your drink last night really knocked you the fuck out, didn’t it? It’s a miracle you were able to wake up at all. I know it makes you a little more useless the morning after, but since I love you and I wanted to hurt you down there especially bad last night, I decided you’d be better off sleeping through it. It’s okay, you’ll be sore for ages and ages, you’ll still get to suffer for me, don’t worry.

To make sure you get the point, I grab you between the legs and squeeze as hard as I can. Pain shoots through you like lightning as you whimper and quietly beg me to stop, which makes me laugh, because it’s so funny for you to think you have any say in things. I put you to sleep because I’m so nice, and I chose to, but when I want you to hurt you’re going to hurt, and you’re going to thank me for it.

You fall to the ground and hit your head hard against the floor, because I pushed you, but later I’m going to tell you slipped and fell. My foot comes down hard on your groin, pressing into it with all my weight as I tell you to say thank you.

Go on, I growl, say it. And you do, through a pained moan that makes me want to beat the shit out of you even more, but I press a little harder and remind you you’re supposed to say “thank you, Daddy.”

It’s funny how hard that was for you at first. You were so nervous about misgendering a trans woman, but I loved seeing you squirm as you forced the words out of your mouth. It just sucks that you’re used to it now. It’s hard thinking of offensive things I haven’t made you do or say just to watch you look so uncomfortable you could just about die. I’m going to have to come up with a lot more, but first I’m going to take you out on a nice date.

I know you don’t like what I dress you in, but I do, and that’s all that matters. I have to literally do it for you since you’re too stupid to put your clothes on yourself. I drag your hot pants up for you, help your head and arms into your tank top with WHORE written across it in glitter, and I kiss you on the cheek for being such a good pet. Then I put on your lipstick, cherry red today, because it’s your turn to kiss me.

You get down on your knees, because I don’t go out unless people can see your devotion to me, so we’ve done this a thousand times. I turn around, and you press your lips right up against the seat of my pants, your lips flattening as you did your best to leave a big, colorful mark. Then, knowing how much you hate it, I rip ass right in your face, and chuckle at the fact that you’ve been trained to inhale like you desperately need my gas to live. You can be so well-behaved sometimes, thanks to me being patient enough to to train you.

I grab you by your hair and pull you to your feet, but before we leave, I clasp your collar around your neck, one last finishing touch. I like you down on your hands and knees, crawling next to me as I hold your leash tight, ready to yank whenever I want. I have to do that a lot, since you keep falling behind – and why? Just because the mall is a quarter mile away and you’re bruising your knees something awful? Poor thing. I don’t really care, though, beyond the fact that it gives me something else to yell at you for. And it’s not my fault how warm it is for Autumn, either. Why should I care if you have to put your hands down on far too hot concrete? You know that if you keep complaining I’m going to turn around and throw a kick right into your stomach, so you finally shut up.

As we walk, I notice someone doing yard work gawking at us. That’s the best part of going out together, getting to show off our love. I wonder what he’s thinking. Probably nothing too bad about me, but you, the one who’s crawling like a dog? He probably knows what a freak you are on sight. Someone who wants to be treated like this. Someone who finds fulfillment in being my little pet clown. I almost want to drag you over to him just to see the disgust in his eyes as you get closer, but we wouldn’t want to get too distracted, now would we? If we stopped for everyone who judged you we’d make it home in a few hundred years and not a moment sooner.

In the mall, things are a little different. I let you on your feet, if only because the sound of your knees on the polished floor annoy the shit out of me. Doesn’t stop people from staring, considering you’re still on a leash. Then I remind you of that you had to do for me the next time we went out.

A look of pained confusion crosses your face, then resignation, and you do like I explained to you the day before, sticking your finger right up your nose, digging for a solid minute or two. I bet you look even stupider to anyone who isn’t used to you having nothing between the ears. I can’t tell, because I’ve just internalized it and fully expect you to be as much of a ridiculous dumbass as you are, but everyone else is seeing you blatantly pick your nose and wondering what kind of idiot you have to be to not be embarrassed by your behavior.

You are embarrassed though, of course, or why else would I have you do it? I revel in how red your face is getting, or how you keep nervously looking around to watch people watch you. You must just be an attention whore. It says “whore” on your shirt, doesn’t it? Just be grateful I let you wipe the snot off on your pants instead of sticking it in your mouth and eating it. Maybe next time, if you piss me off.

I take you into the alt-goth store, because I have shit I want to buy, and if I see anything that’d make you look cringe we’ll grab that too. My tits are too big for everything they have here, or most other places for that matter, but that’s fine because it makes them even more noticeable, so I’m not complaining when we go into the dressing room and you watch with slack-jawed awe as my boobs nearly tear through something that would have been too small on me even if I were flat as a board. I notice how affected you are by my magnificence, so I smile and take the shirt off to let you stare at them in their full glory, barely contained by a bra I needed custom-made.

There’s no warning when I suddenly reel you in by your leash with a violent tug, letting your face fall right into my cleavage. I put my hand on the back of your head to keep you there as your training takes over and you start muttering “I love Daddy’s boobs, I love Daddy’s boobs, I love Daddy’s boobs…” like a broken record. I laugh because I can’t even remember if you were this into tits until I terrorized you into worshiping mine.

Remember how I broke a finger every time you looked me in the eyes instead of my chest? I bet every stray glimpse of my face still makes you relive that just a little. Now you’ll never make that mistake again, and I’m as proud of you as anyone can be proud of such a useless loser. Which isn’t much. You know I’m the only person who can stand to put up with you, you’re not capable of eliciting affection from others, but I’m built different and I can manage to put aside my disgust at your existence to take care of you.

And I do take care of you. Aside from putting your clothes on, I also fix your hair, brush your teeth, occasionally wash you with the garden hose, and even help you in the bathroom because you’d probably fuck that up too if you didn’t have me to do everything for you. I don’t care how long you think you’d been doing just fine with those little tasks, even generously assuming you really do believe that at all and aren’t just trying to get out of the tedium of personal hygiene like a lazy slob. The only reason I’m not certain it’s the latter is that I know you really are dumb enough to believe your own imagination.

The fact is, I’m in charge of you and if I wasn’t you’d probably be dead by now, because no one else has ever really loved you. We’ve talked about that more than enough for it to sink into your soul and understand that your friends and family were always just lying whenever it seemed like they might have cared for you even a little bit. You were an annoying burden to them and wherever they are now they’re infinitely happier since I removed you from their lives.

I start to get all sentimental now, sitting down on the dressing room with your face nestled into my chest, petting softly down your neck. You’re mine and I love you. I love you so much. I know our relationship doesn’t make sense to you, because you can’t make sense of kindergarten math, but it’s odd to other people too, you know. They don’t understand that you’re not my partner, you’re my object of affection. More than anyone else I want to hurt you, forever and always until death do us part. I’m happy to stay monogamous because no matter how attractive someone else would look crying as they gagged on my cock, you’re my object, and you alone.

I reach down and squeeze your groin again. You start to quietly sob, tearfully thanking me to hurting you, because you know you deserve it. I start to get excited, and so, so full of love for my object, that I push you off me and onto the floor and take my cock out. Your eyes go wide, transfixed as you get to see your favorite show – your Daddy jerking off. You sit there and stare, the closest thing to sex you’ve ever had or ever will have, consciously at least, and bite your lip with tense passion. This is our equivalent of making love.

I tell you to get out of the way when I’m close, because I don’t want my cum ever interacting with you, and I get off, completely independent of you. It used to make you sad, but now you know it was silly to think you could ever be sexually desirable or worthy of normal human intimacy. Watching me masturbate is all you get and you’ve learned to be satisfied with it.

We hit a few more stores and get some Chinese to eat. I feed you, of course, gently placing every bite into your mouth because even that’s beyond your ability to achieve on a consistent basis and I won’t even let you try to prove otherwise. It’s either me feeding you or lowering your face onto your plate and slurping it up like an animal, which may be more personally humiliating for you, but I like rubbing in how much you rely on me as often as possible.

When we go home, you assume your usual position in front of the couch, still on your hands and knees but at least the floor here is so much cooler than the sidewalk. I toss my feet up on your back to use you as a footstool while I fuck around on the internet. I don’t pay a lot of attention to you, but every now and then I glance over at you as you struggle to remain in position, and I smile, and even without looking you can feel my smile hitting you like a cannonball as I think of ways I want to hurt you next.

Because I love you.

______________________________________________________________

"Object of affection" as a role in a relationship was inspired by the following text, posted anonymously to one of /d/'s Globalized Fetish threads eleven years ago:

About 33% of the population grows incredibly possessive, narcissistic, and devoid of empathy. For them, owning, humiliating, and abusing another human becomes a pathological need. Without a person to objectify and mistreat these people become incredibly likely to commit well-planned, large-scale violent crimes. At first, volunteers are selected, but numbers are too few. In order to preserve order, the normal 66% of the population opt to force many, many, non-consenting individuals into lives where they are maltreated, humiliated, and have no right to consent, privacy, or decision-making. In time, punishing a crying "object of affection" in a public space, forcing them to feel misery, or displaying them in a shameful way becomes common.

[just-1other-nerd]

This post appeared during the perfect time because it is disability pride month.

Also I have had glasses since 6th Grade, it started at about -1 diopters and currently I'm around -4 diopters, I've already forgotten how well I saw when it was only -1 diopters let alone what life with perfect vision was like. I've worn my glasses every single day ever since I got them (never tried contacts), and my vision still got worse. I can't imagine living without my glasses, they feel like a part of me. And while the health care in my country covers the cost of the glasses (not the frame) themselves as long as you're a kid, you have to pay thoses as well once you turn 18. But like why? It's not like I've stopped seeing badly in general or like my vision stopped getting worse but I need my glasses to function properly in everyday life. I need them to find things, to drive a car which I need to get to work, to not stumble over shit that's on the floor, I need it to read text that's not directly up in my face, seriously I couldn't even type this without my glasses unless I held my phone about 10cm away from my face. Health care should cover this, period.

We also still need to normalise bad vision and glasses in media, just like we need to with other disabilities and disability aid. I mean compared to other disabilities there's lots of representation but it's oftentimes just bad representation and almost never the main characters unless they need a makeover scene. Extensively more about that under the cut.

For example Harry Potter proves how you never see a main character with glasses because the fact that you can put together a lightning bolt symbol and a glasses symbol and everybody immediately knows that you mean Harry Potter speaks for itself, his glasses wouldn't be this iconic if more non-nerdy characters had some, in fact it can only be this iconic because it's not common. And even so I think it's just unrealistic that nobody ever asked if they could put his glasses on, that's such a common behaviour of people who don't have glasses.

And it's not even like a character has to start out with glasses, authors can give their characters glasses as the story goes along, they can do so despite glasses not being a thing in the original concept of the character because sometimes people only notice when they get older, someone I know only got glasses when they were 21 for this exact reason because the last time they had their eyes checked was before getting their drivers licence. A good example for this is Jason Grace one of the main characters from the Heroes of Olympus books because he didn't even notice, someone else literally had to tell him.

Or all of those romantic comedies where the girl/guy is allegedly not that attractive just for them to take their glasses off during the makeover to reveal that they were conventionally attractive all along. People in universe always act like it's the glasses that make those characters ugly (which they often even aren't in the first place), like there aren't any pretty or stylish frames, as if there aren't people who wear sunglasses or glasses without diopters as an accessory. People acting like that are one of the reasons why I was initially sad when I was first diagnosed with needing glasses instead of being excited about being able to see properly again. And I get it, people who you're only used to seeing with glasses look weirdly different without them, sorta naked in the face, but different doesn't have to mean better. Oftentimes when glasses look bad on someone it's just because they haven't found a frame that suits them.

And despite never having tried contact lenses I can see the multitude of reasons why people want to wear them, so I get when a character prefers them and stops wearing glasses most of the time. But boy do I hate it when a movie/show starts to act as if they never had them in the first place, just show them waking up and stumbling into the bathroom where they insert the contact lenses as part of their morning routine that's all I ask for. One piece of media where this was just super infuriating to me was the K Drama Marry my Husband because the main character and the love interest had glasses and both of them had the obligatory makeover (which is fine you know) but before they had really cute scenes that were elevated by the glasses and partially wouldn't even have functioned without the shitty vision of those two. And I was so excited for a couple where both had those problems with vision and would understand and have similar routines even though it wouldn't be present most of the time but then they got out of bed and acted as if they never saw badly ever in their lives, like what? That's not how wearing contacts works! They should reach out and grab their glasses before they look lovingly at their sleeping partner because I know they actually can't see any details in their face. Another K Drama example is True Beauty where the makeover is a vital part of the plot so once again it's fine, I wouldn't watch something like that if I didn't like this trope on some level and I actually think they handled the glasses part of that makeover quite okay (not good but I've seen way worse) but damn was it ridiculous when the girl couldn't walk down the stairs alone because her glasses shattered and the guy had to carry her as if the railing didn't exist to guide her safely downwards, you know, the way blind people do.

Alex from Red, White and Royal Blue is a positive example for glasses representation because even though he almost never wears his reading glasses especially in front of people he has them and he makes clear that needs them and it's actually a great character detail which makes him more real that he only wears them around people who he feels comfortable around and who he trusts because he doesn't feel like it fits his image but he let's the people close to him see this part of himself. Glasses can actually be used to enhance and tell the story.

Haikyuu was also revolutionary to me personally because Kiyoko is regarded the prettiest girl in the whole school, almost everybody has a bit of a crush on her and she wears glasses. Nobody ever tells her she should take them off or suggests that she'd look even prettier without them, or that she looks good despite wearing glasses, it's not even a topic of conversation because she is just beautiful, with or without them. Also we have sporty guys wearing glasses, some on the court and others when they don't play (like Oikawa). The fact that they thought of finally giving Tsukki special sports glasses still makes me go feral. This is the representation I need.

Kids with glasses need to see that they're not a bad thing. Characters of all personalities and roles within a story should wear glasses so that people can see that they can take up this role as well. And the way people treat their visual aids (be it glasses or contacts) needs to be more accurate to reality. This type of bad vision which is so comparatively easy and uncomplicated to "cure" is one of the most common disabilities in all social classes, cultures and ages but if we can't even manage to represent that well - despite lots of people who are involved in creating whatever it is you consume being affected - how should we have hope that other disabilities can be well represented?

Made the mistake of bringing up that needing glasses is a disability on tiktok and people got real mad.

“You can fix it with glasses” yeah, cuz they’re a disability aid? But like, I still have to pay 160 bucks to use my own fucking eyes?

Like, by definition, if your eyes do not work without aid, you have a disability to see.

Having a disability doesn’t automatically put you in what people consider the “disabled” category, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is in fact, a disability.

[foxofsunholt]

I don't know if this has already been asked but how would the RO's act if someone was aggressively flirting with the MC and they were clearly making them feel uncomfortable.

It might have been, but I can answer things twice! I will assume this is after the MC stating that they’re uninterested and so, the aggressor is clearly not backing off. Also set at a pub because…idk….

ADELAIDE- Puffs her chest out and puts on her commanding voice and makes her way over, with all the ferocity of a dog who saw a squirrel in the backyard. She doesn’t mince words or ask nicely; “HEY! Leave my friend alone! They’re not interested!” Of course, people usually don’t take Adelaide seriously either and if they wouldn’t back off you, they’re not going to do it because a woman who looks like she’s about to cry is telling them to. So, she does want any sensibly lady would do and draws her sword, throws down her glove and challenges them to a duel.

As duelling is strictly forbidden in pubs, both you and Adelaide get kicked out, which she is profusely sorry about and she takes you to another pub and stays very close this time. You two agree that she totally would have ruined that person’s shit if they did actually duel. Drunk, she stumbles out, “you know, I would aggressively flirt with you too. But in a nice way. Like a nice person. Like the good way.” When you ask her what she means, her head is already on the bar counter, completely passed out.

She’ll apologize in the morning for you having to carry her to bed, you know she will. But you don’t mind in the moment and as you lay her down, her fingers curl into your sleeve. “Thank you,” she says, slurred with drunkenness, “and you’ve got a great ass.” In the morning, she’ll probably apologize for that too, but you don’t want her to.

CAMILLE - Her gaze is often fixed on you in the free hours. She watches you, though you’ve never known for what aim. This time, with someone grinning in your face about all the things they’d like to do, it’s as if her body teleports from the corner of the room to right beside you. She goes for their hand, twisting fingers back. With the other, fire circles around her palm. “I suggest you leave my friend alone unless you enjoy having your eyes burnt out.” It’s the first time she’s ever referred to you as a friend and, of course, it would happen as she was threatening someone else. The person relents, whimpering away. Camille looks at you and you stare at her. You think you should probably thank her but she’s back to her corner.

This time, when you take a drink over to sit with her, she doesn’t shoo you away. You enjoy silence with her as safety washes over you. “Does this happen often?” She asks. You shake your head; usually people are better at respecting your boundaries. She pauses, staring into her wine. A grin breaks out across her face, “I know a spell that will induce bowel incontinence for twelve hours.” And the two of you set off to cast a curse, laughing all the way.

FAITH- Faith is no stranger to the pushy and unwelcome. She’s by your side before you even realize that you really hate what’s going on, and you may just start up the tears if you have to deal with it for a second more. Faith grins and jabs a finger into the aggressor. “They’re with me, so back off.” She kisses the side of your head and this startled the person for a moment, until they’re back at it again. Well great, they say, two is better than one! You see Faith’s mouth twitch and her hand curl up. You know what’s about to happen and you could stop her, she gives you the chance to stop her, but you’re both a little tipsy and you can’t pretend like you don’t want it to happen. And so, Faith’s beer bottle is swung and smashes against the person’s skull, beer and blood splatter around. She leans across the bar counter and grabs two more bottles, tightly gripped in one hand, but those aren’t for hitting. Instead, she takes your hand and the two of you whip through the streets, cackling into the night air.

When your journey ends, you’ve made you way up to the roof of some building and Faith offers you one of the bottles she took. “You shouldn’t be afraid to hit them,” she says. As you lay down beside her she curls up against you. “Violence is the answer sometimes.” You nod, staring up at the stars. She takes your hand and flattens it out, lifting it to the sky palm up and holding it steady. “And this is how you make a fist,” she exaggerates, teasing. She lays her hand over your knuckles and pushes your fingers down into a fist. She grips your wrist lightly and swings your new fist around. “And this is how you throw a punch…” She aims your fist at her face, where she meets the impact with her lips, caressing the cold flesh of your knuckles.

MARS - He is between you and the aggressor in an instant. It’s almost more scary how quickly he is, or that he was even here in the first place; you hadn’t seen him earlier. His hand is on the hold of his blade and he says nothing as the aggressor’s attention turns to the strange knight. They begin berating Mars, laughing into his face. This riles you up but Mars remains impassive. As the aggressor tries to reach across Mars to touch you, Mars’ sword snaps up, pushing their wrist away and drawing a thin line of blood as he does it. Again, he says nothing. The aggressor curses before he tries it again, earning himself a slash across the cheek. The person’s hand curls into a fist and flies in the air, you stop it before it can reach Mars, seeing clearly that the knight hadn’t moved at all; he would have taken that punch purposely. You don’t understand Mars any more than you can throw him, which isn’t very far because his armour is heavy.

The aggressor leave eventually, seeing a battle they can win and Mars’s hand is on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” He asks, full of concern. You nod, you’re usually always okay. “Good,” he says, not knowing what else to say. Awkwardness pools in the air; you offer him a drink and he says no, knights don’t drink. You offer him some olives and he says no, knights don’t eat olives. You pause. Mars is smiling. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him make a joke, you were beginning to think he couldn’t. As it turns out, knights do drink and this one really likes olives.

SID- A fist cuts through the air before another sentence is said. Across the room, Sid had been trying to signal to you and you had been trying to signal back. You’re not sure what any of his eyebrow wiggles or hand signs meant, but yours clearly said help me please. He shakes his fist, grinning at the aggressor now crumpled on the floor. “You said punch ‘em right?” You did not, but you can’t complain about results. “Oh well, let’s just get more drinks and forget about all this, yeah?” But the aggressor is on their feet and their fist meets Sid’s face. He flies back, crashing into a table and snapping it in twain. You try to stop the mayhem, and one of the aggressor’s friends punches you. You’re not sure how it happens, but you’ve got a full brawl on your hands.

Of course, pubs only tolerate brawls for so long so you’re out into the streets. And then, as both you and Sid are a lot better than two random drunks, you win, though you’re a little bloody for it. “They’re gonna charge us for that table,” he says. And the window, and that painting and the bottles, you remind him. “Aye, and all that,” he grins. The two of you look at each other and without speaking, you both run off together, howling down the streets.

YOON��� Your pleading eyes meet Yoon’s watchful gaze and he steps in, arm hooked around your aggressor’s shoulders. “Oh! My love! My darling! What is this? Do you besmirch me by flirting with another? Was I not enough for you?” His voice is loud and dramatic and in tune with the plays he takes you out to see sometimes. The aggressor looks confused but as they try to speak, Yoon’s finger snaps out and shushes them. “Oh! My love! Tell me what it is! Was the sex just too good for you?” You can’t help but to laugh, earning a wink from Yoon before he dissolves back into his role as wounded lover. The aggressor tries to push him off before they’re pinned under Yoon’s vice grip; twisting their fingers the wrong way. “Oh! My love! You hurt me so!” The pub patrons have caught on to the little display and they boo and hiss and cheer. As Yoon gives the aggressor more pain, the crowd cheers. “I shall run off then! With this person you have cheated on me with! We shall have a happy life away from your treachery!” In the final act, the aggressor is left on the floor while the two of you laugh, walking away into the night.

As it turns out, acting can get you a lot. Yoon teaches you how fake proposals get you free wine glasses or slices of cake. When that gets boring for you two, you try proposals that end badly, in increasingly absurd ways. You stop getting free things, but the two of you are having fun.

[semisgroupie]

Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend

Sugar Daddy!Nanami Kento X College Student!Female Reader

Warnings: age gap, dumbification, degredation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), creampie, car sex, hints at a corruption kink, daddy kink, use of a vibrator, mean dom Nanami, dom/sub dynamics, public sex, light spit play, use of the word “cunny”, overstimulation

Word Count: 3.6k words

This is my contribution to the Ditzy n Diamonds collab check out everyone else’s amazing work!! A huge huge huge thank you to @aransangel​ for allowing me to participate. Enjoy!

Kento wasn’t a lonely man. He had his fair share of women in his life but they were always after his money. He would go into a relationship and they expect him to buy them the moon and the night sky after one date. Always wanting to go on shopping sprees and wanting to be spoiled. So he took himself out of the dating scene. 

Until one day his friend offered a sugar daddy website to use. Kento had more money than he could keep track of, being the head of two Fortune 500 companies he had the cash rolling in. So he decided to just join it, not like he was going to find someone worth his time or money until he stumbled across your profile. 

You weren’t like any of the other girls on the website. You looked so innocent, so soft and so pure. He messaged you immediately after going through your profile. You were so open about everything he asked you and you were able to keep a conversation. 

You never thought you’d find yourself looking for a sugar daddy, you were in your second year of college and the little job you had was not enough to pay rent, tuition, buy food and buy textbooks. When telling your roommate you’d be late on paying your half of the rent for the third month in a row she recommended you’d look for a sugar daddy.

She helped set your profile up, putting the right pictures and making the bio perfect for older men looking to spoil a sweet girl like you. It was going well at first then you hit a snag, the men were too old or had too many rules or wanted too much for the first meeting. Then you received a message from Nanami Kento. 

You looked through his profile and he was perfect, being in his late 40s, extremely attractive and his first message wasn’t anything creepy. He genuinely wanted to get to know you. So when he offered to set up your first meeting a week after getting to know each other you jumped at the chance. 

It went amazing and when your allowance started flowing in it was even better. He got you your own penthouse apartment in one of the buildings he bought making it rent free for you. The first night you moved in he fucked you in every room and on every piece of furniture, making you scream and cream around his cock over and over again. 

That was two years ago, that was when you first started the arrangement. A year in he asked to change the title of your relationship wanting you to be his and only his, not like you already weren’t. He still spoiled you senseless, keeping your allowance and when you were a good girl he gave you a little bonus.

Tonight you were his date to a masquerade ball that one of his friends were hosting. Kento was helping you into the corset that went with your dress. A dress he bought for you of course.

“You look so beautiful princess and you haven’t even put the dress on yet. Ready for me to tighten this corset?”

You nodded making Kento tsk.

“What does daddy say about using your words?”

“I’m sorry daddy, I am ready for you to tighten it daddy.”

“Good girl, now breathe in for me and let me know if it’s too tight or hurting you.”

“Yes daddy.”

You inhaled and he tightened the strings on the back of the corset, hugging your curves and making your tits pop out making Kento eye them hungrily. His hands moving up and down your waist and hips moving them back to grab at your ass. 

“Daddy! We can’t do this now, the party will start at 8 and we can’t be late. You hate being late.”

He reached up squishing your face between his fingers bringing you face to face with him.

“Don’t tell daddy what he likes and don’t tell him what he can and can’t do silly little girl.”

“’m showwy daddy” you spoke with your cheeks still being squished. 

“Good, now lets get this dress on you.” 

You pouted because you’d have to redo your makeup. Kento slipping the dress up your body, zipping it and grabbing your tits from behind. You sat down in front of your vanity reapplying your makeup while Kento was fixing his tux. Once you were done you slipped on your heels and grabbed your purse while Kento grabbed your masks. 

He escorted you arm in arm to his car, a black Bugatti Chiron Super Sport 300+ the leather interior, a dark cherry red, matching the dress you were wearing. He helped you inside the vehicle and went to the drivers side. 

“Babygirl do me a favor and look in the glovebox for me?”

He would often get you gifts every time you went out, little surprises under your car seat or the trunk or in the glovebox. He watched you open the glovebox and pull out two boxes. One rectangular box and one small box. You opened the smaller box first, your eyes widened at its contents. 

“Daddy what do you want me to do with this?”

In your hand was a small black egg vibrator.

“Are you that clueless my dumb baby? Open your legs and take that vibrator and put it inside you.”

“But daddy my dress.”

“The dress has a slit so use that to slip your hand to that sweet pussy and insert the vibrator inside you.”

You did as he told you, thankful he bought a dress with a slit high enough for you to do it. You turned to him for his next command but you got nothing, just as you were about to open your mouth the vibrations started. 

“Daddy! H-how did you—ah—do that?”

“Is my little baby so stupid to realize I had the remote for it? Now we’re going to see how many orgasms can be pulled from you until we get there—if we get there.”

“D-daddy w-what do you mean?”

“I-if I don’t end up p-p-pulling over to f-f-fuck you. Now open the other box.” 

His mocking would hurt any other girl but not you. You loved when he treated you like a brainless slut. You opened the rectangular box inside a beautiful ankle bracelet with his initials on it and covered in diamonds. He only bought you diamonds because they signified light and it was fitting for you since you’re the light of his life. He increased the vibrations to the highest setting knowing you would cum immediately.

“This is—fuck—so beautiful t-thank you dad—fuck I’m cumming daddy fuck fuck!”

He lowered the vibrations back to the lowest setting after your orgasm you leaned down and clasped the ankle bracelet on your left ankle. Kento started the car bringing the vibrations up again. 

“Don’t mess up the leather in my car, I just bought this last week. You should remember that since you were beside me as I signed off on it. But you probably forgot since I fucked you brainless afterwards.”

You nodded dumbly not even listening to a word he said. About halfway to the party and many orgasms for you later Kento made a turn into a secluded parking lot. 

“D-daddy what are—shit—what are you d-doing?”

“Use your brain princess.”

You stood silent completely forgetting about what he told you at the start of the ride. His laughter filled the car and he shut off the vibrator, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. 

“My dumb little girl, I am going to fuck you now. Then I am going to take you to one of the hotels I have a share in and fuck you in the president’s suite. Got that?”

“But the party.”

“Fuck the party, with the amount of times you squirted and orgasmed around that toy you ruined the dress. Unless you want to go with soaked panties and your slick running down your legs.”

You shook your head no.

“Now go in the backseat so I could fuck you. Hearing your moans and pleas made me so fucking hard.”

Before moving to the backseat you took a quick look at the bulge he was palming over his pants. He followed you to the backseat and laid you down along the cushions. He scrunched the dress up to your hips and pulled your panties off you throwing it to the side. 

“Fuck baby such a mess. What a dirty dirty girl.”

“Daddy stop, it’s embarrassing!”

You tried closing your legs to cover up but a quick pinch to your thigh made you open back up for him. 

“Don’t tell me what to do and what not to do dumb slut” he grabs your face with one hand bringing it close to his, his breath fanning your face the smell of mint filling your senses, “and don’t fucking dare try to keep me away from what’s mine, got that?”

“Yesh daddy” you spoke with your cheeks still being squished a small tinge of pain beginning but it turned you on even more.

He let go of your face and you went back down, as he undid his belt and pants he just stared at your pussy. Your winking hole made his cock throb. 

“Oh my dumb baby’s cunny is making such a mess. It’s going on my leather seats too” his condescending tone made you clench around nothing again, more of your juices leaking out. To say you loved when he baby talked you would be an understatement, “What did I fucking tell you about my leather seats?”

“I don’t remember daddy.” 

“You’re that fucking dense? Too busy thinking about getting stuffed with daddy’s cock to think about anything else. How fucking selfish. Wow you’re selfish, stupid and a cockslut. How lucky am I?”

Before you could say anything back, apologize for making a mess on his expensive leather seats, he thrusted his length inside you. Your back arched and you felt yourself having another orgasm.

“I haven’t even started fucking you yet and you’re creaming around my cock. Dirty fucking whore, all you’re thinking about is my cock. Look at that facial expression so fucking lewd, you look like a pornstar. Is that what you are? My little pornstar?”

He lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist as he started thrusting into your gummy walls with a newfound speed. You weren’t sure what was turning you on more whether if it was the fact the two of you were in public or the words leaving his mouth or maybe both. 

“Fuck your cunny is so tight baby, I fuck you almost every day but you’re still so tight for me. Like your pussy is molded to my cock.”

“D-daddy feels—ngh—feels—ah fuck daddy!”

“Can’t even finish your fucking sentence, is there even a brain in your head or do you just think with your body? What am I even paying the college for? Obviously not your education, my sweet little dummy.”

“Daddy! Too m-mean!”

Tears were threatening to spill out from a mix of the degradation and how hard and fast he was fucking you. Just using you as his personal toy.

“Oh I’m t-t-too mean? Too fucking bad. Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

You did as he told you and Kento leaned down his face hovering over yours as he collected the spit in his mouth to spit into your own. Once you felt it hit your tongue you clenched around him again.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna fill you up baby.”

“Daddy please need your cum. Need it please please.”

You were babbling pleas as he gripped your hips and relentlessly pounded into you. His heavy balls clapping against your ass over and over, he looked down and the translucent white ring around his cock and it drove him mad. Someone as beautiful as a goddess letting a man like him be with you so intimately.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming—fuck!”

He held your hips close to his as ropes of his cum filled you. He leaned down and kissed you as you both let your bodies relax. He pulled out of you and shoved two of his fingers inside your pussy.

“Don’t want to let any of this leave you, want you to be nice and filled with this load until we get to the hotel. Get your rest because we have a long night ahead of us.”

“Mkay daddy.”

He pulled his fingers out of your pussy and tapped your cheek. You opened your mouth and he shoved his fingers inside feeling your warm tongue swirl around them collecting every drop of cum. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and adjusted his pants.

He looked at you one last time before going back behind the steering wheel. You looked so fucked out and in bliss.

“Remember don’t fuck up my seats any more.”

The drive to the hotel was quick, well since Kento was going double the speed limit. You brought out this side of him that made him feel like a teenager again. He just wanted to fuck you everywhere and as much as he could.

“We’re here now. Let’s see if you listened to me again or if you were too fucked out to acknowledge what I said.”

He got out of the driver's seat and opened the door to the back of the car. He leaned in and looked at your pussy.

“Tch, messy little girl. I should make you clean this shit up. Yeah make you clean it up like the nasty cum slut you are.”

“Daddy I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“Of course, now get out. We’re going to the president's suite and that pretty little anklet I got you is going to be jingling right next to my ear as I pound your sweet pussy.”

You nodded and made your way out of the car. You could barely walk from all the orgasms you had, your legs felt like noodles. Kento made his way next to you wrapping an arm around your waist as you both walked to the front desk.

“Hello Mr. Nanami, here are the room keys and the champagne is in the room on ice. Please enjoy your stay.”

As he took the keys your eyebrows furrowed trying to put everything together but your brain was like mush. As you two made it to the elevator you heard a deep chuckle from Kento.

“I can see the gears turning in your head. Maybe it’s a little more than your brain can comprehend but I planned this beforehand. Satoru throws parties like that all the time so we’ll have another night to party.”

You nodded and went inside the elevator with him. As you two went up the floors his hand on your waist traveled south until he reached the curve of your ass giving it a nice squeeze, leaving it there until you two reached your floor. He led you out the elevator and into the room. 

Once the door shut he was on you, grabbing at the fabric of the dress pulling it down and off of you as he placed sloppy kisses along your lips, jaw and neck. Once your dress was off he untied the corset practically ripping it off your body.

“Oh looks like I forgot your panties in the car. Not like you needed them anyways.”

He took your bra off you and walked you to the king sized bed, gently pushing you on it while he undressed. Your hand roamed on its own down your body to your clit rubbing gentle circles until Kento reached down and pulled your hand away.

“Are you serious? Can’t wait for me to pull my fucking boxers down before touching that messy pussy? If you want pleasure so bad” he pulled your legs putting them on his shoulders as he kneeled on the bed. “I’ll give you all the pleasure you need.”

He lined up with your glistening entrance and thrusted inside you, his cum mixed with your slick acting as lube. He held the backs of your knees and thrusted into you, hitting even deeper than before. Your mewls and whines echoing throughout the room. Your mouth falling open, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth and your eyes roll to the back of your head feeling his cock enter you over and over again.

“Fuck look at you. Like a desperate whore in heat. When I first met you, you were this cute little thing so innocent then once you got a taste of my cock you turned into a braindead slut. I wonder how your friends would react to you fucking a man that’s old enough to be your father. Your little cunny is leaking all over my cock, all my cum leaving you but don’t worry I’ll fill you up more.”

You closed your eyes and opened them again looking at Kento. Your gaze went to the ankle bracelet he got you, the small charm with his initials dangling and moving with each rough thrust. Your gaze turned back to Kento, his lip between his teeth, his normally perfectly styled hair falling out of place, strands of blonde and white hair sticking to his forehead.

Kento brought his thumb to your mouth and you wrapped your lips around it, your tongue swirling around it, getting it slick with your saliva. You let go of his thumb with a soft pop and he brought it down to your clit rubbing small circles on it giving the right amount of pressure.

“Daddy, daddy please gonna cum! Please please please.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust brushing against your g-spot sending you head first into an orgasm. Your back arching and a loud moan leaving your lips. He kept thrusting into you brushing against your g-spot over and over again your sensitive pussy couldn’t handle all the pleasure.

“Daddy p-please slow d-down, too much too much, too sen-sensitive!”

“Too bad, you’re gonna keep cumming on my cock until I fill you up. I don’t care how s-s-sensitive you are.”

His mocking made you clench around him again. His thrusts were keeping their roughness and speed. He pushed your legs further back and looked down to where you two were connected. The burn from the stretch adding to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck baby this slutty little cunny is just swallowing my cock.”

He tapped at your clit a couple of times, the rough pads of his fingers mixed with the continuous brushing of his cock against your g-spot brought you to another orgasm. Your manicured nails running down his arms leaving red scratch marks in their wake. A moan of ‘daddy’ leaving you as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through you.

“Let’s see if we could get you to one more orgasm before I fill you up.”

You nodded the only word you acknowledged being ‘orgasm’. He rode you through your orgasm his grip on your legs getting tighter likely going to leave marks. Kento leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth swirling his tongue around it, nipping and sucking then moving his head to show your other nipple the same attention.

His pelvis rubbing against your clit with each thrust, the roughness of his trimmed pubic hair sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your hands went through his hair scratching at his scalp.

“Gonna cum for me? I’m gonna cum too, cum for me baby and I’ll give you my cum.”

You weakly moved your hips gaining more friction and Kento kept his mouth on your nipples. Your back arched as you hit your peak again that night, the feeling should be familiar with how many you had that night but it just rippled through your body. Your pussy clenching around his cock and your nails running along his scalp sent Kento into his orgasm. He painted your walls white for the second time that night.

Heavy labored breaths filled the room, once Kento finished he pulled out of you some of his cum followed leaking out of you onto the sheets. He laid next to you and held you close to him both of your limbs intertwining with each other. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry about the seats daddy.”

“Don’t worry about the seats princess, I’ll send it to get cleaned tomorrow. Just remember while I say those mean things to you I don’t mean a word, you’re a smart, beautiful young lady and I love you.”

You lifted your head to look at his face, worry was spread across his face, his crows feet and small wrinkles on his face deepened as he looked at you.

“I know daddy! I love you too! Love you so much Kento.”

He leaned down, cupping your face with one of his hands as he placed a kiss to your lips. A small smile on his face as he pulled away.

“Good, now rest up baby we have quite a long weekend ahead of us. This hotel has a private pool and I want to fuck you there.”

“Daddy! I don’t even have a bathing suit and I doubt I’ll be able to move without being sore tomorrow.”

“We’ll worry about your soreness tomorrow and don’t worry about the bathing suit, we’ll go shopping for some and you’ll get whatever you desire, it’s not like you’ll need it anyways.”

Kento traced small shapes on your back as you fell asleep and soon fatigue hit him as he fell asleep right after you.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Separation, Connection - [1/2]

Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent.

Word Count → 2.3k

SSB2021 Square Fill → “God I hate you” - @star-spangled-bingo

AFG Square Fill  → “What the fuck am I seeing?” @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Swearing

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This one was sitting in my WIPs folder for ages, and after brainstorming with @writethelifeyouwant, this 2 parter was finished! Ps. I know I haven’t updated Worst Idea Ever in a while and I’m sorry - I’m just very stuck with it atm, the plot and majority of the story is planned out, I just can’t seem to fill in the blanks.

Firefly’s Masterlist

You and Bucky were close, and there was that little thin line between friendship and something more. Nothing had happened but, god, you had wanted it to. The secret crush you harboured for your teammate, your friend, had only grown over the years. Everyone thought you would be good together, commenting on how well you got along, that friendship was an important part of a relationship. Both of you rolling your eyes and laughing at their comments.

When you finally gathered the courage to tell him how you felt, you saw him with someone else. They were at the back of the training facility; the team were in a simulation of a terrorist attack on Paris and once the time on the training session was called, you stumbled across them.

They were just out of sight, hidden in a dark corner. And it wasn’t just a casual embrace. They were having sex, he was fucking her, hard, up against a wall. You froze at the sight of his bare bottom clenching with each thrust and the blissed-out look on her face. What the fuck am I seeing?! Heart shattered, you fled from the room without a sound, not wanting to disturb them or for anyone to see you crying.

It hurt too much to be as close to him after that, you consciously decided to withdraw from the friendship. Not going straight to him when entering a room or staying in bed instead of heading to the rooftop where you’d usually wander at five in the morning to talk with Bucky, putting the world to right.

And of course, Bucky noticed. It had been a week since you had joined him for a midnight chat in the kitchen. He was missing his best friend. He wanted to share his life with her, and she was nowhere to be seen unless someone else was in the room. 

Bucky knew it was a bad sign when you chose to sit next to Wanda, not sandwiched between him and Nat, on movie night. He felt alone in a room full of friends, as they watched a film about a love triangle set in England. It was supposed to be funny, but Bucky didn’t hear the jokes, let alone the punchlines. 

Nat had realised something was wrong too. She saw the dark circles under your eyes when you drained the coffee from the cup in the morning and the puffy redness from crying in the middle of the day. She had detested the way you and Bucky were before, it was like a pair of magnets drawn together, a connected ribbon, a gravitational pull. But now? Well, you were repelling within a few meters of one another, and she hated that even more.

“What did you do, Barnes?” Nat whispered harshly, eyes still on the film.

“Nothing.” Bucky looked over to you, sleeping with your head resting on Wanda’s lap.

“So why is Wanda looking at you like that?” She raised an eyebrow.

Bucky lifted his gaze, saw the fiery red eyes staring back at him as she stroked your hair, a soft red mist falling over you. He frowned at the Sokovian and tried to talk telepathically but she shook her head and looked back at the television.

On autopilot, you ran from your room to his bedroom door, knocking until the screams died down. Long ago, you’d learnt to not enter the room until he’d settled down, had the bruises to your neck and dealt with the guilt-ridden expression on Bucky’s face for weeks.

Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear Bucky moving about and slowly pushed it open so as not to startle him. A soft glow from the lamp at his bedside welcomed you in, he'd stacked his pillows against the headboard with his knees drawn up and resting his head in his hands.

“Hi, Buck. It’s me.” You spoke softly, his head and eyes shot up to meet yours.

You walked over and sat at the end of the bed, averting your eyes to the floor and fingers fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for him to respond.

“What did I do doll?” He croaked, fingers running through his hair, his knees dropping down.

Your heart raced and you were certain he could hear the harsh thumps, but your voice remained steady, “It's nothing, just need a little time to process some things.”

“You normally come to me. What's different?” His voice was strained, thick with distress.

Standing up, you walked towards the window, arms wrapped tightly around your torso. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you remained focused on the navy sky fading to blues and oranges with the sunrise.

“I can't this time Buck, I need space. I need space from you.” With each word, your heart fractured along the lines you’d attempted to piece together with being away from him.

“Get out then, just leave me alone.” His tone was now harsh, stronger than before.

“God, I hate you.” Without a final glance, you left the room. Your heart in tatters once more.

Once in the safety of your room, the sob heaved out of you. Bucky had disregarded you so easily, he let you go without a second thought. And you didn’t know what was worse; what you saw a week ago or what he just said.

Bucky finished his 76th lap when someone caught his eye. It was you. His best friend. The one he stupidly let go of. It had been three months since he'd told you to leave, and you hadn't gone back on his word.

Of course, Bucky was just as stubborn and hadn't approached you unless it was work-related. But there was something different about you. His eyes focused on the man you were standing with, and how you glowed, and Bucky just couldn't stand that you were feeling that way about a random recruit and not him.

“She used to look at you that way.” Wanda’s voice echoed in his head.

He scanned the field and found her figure leaning against a tree, shading herself from the summer sun and a book in hand. Bucky grabbed the small towel and wiped away the sweat, swigging his water bottle, then joined her on the grass.

“What are you talking about? She’s never looked at me like that.” He gestured towards you and the agent.

Wanda chuckled and shook her head, “You're not blind, or stupid, Bucky, she adored you. Still does, even though I wish she would get over you.”

His brow creased. “She wanted space, ended our friendship.” 

Wanda’s eyes flashed red, “And you broke her heart.” 

“Show me.” Bucky held out his hand, pleading with her, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I can’t Bucky. It's private, she would never forgive me.” Wanda shook her head and placed her book in her lap, “I've seen what she's done to you, I'm not going to lose her too.”

Bucky sprang to his feet and kicked at the grass. “Then just tell me what you know. Just something?” He turned to face you, hands on his hips as he tried to think of what he’d done.

“Paris terrorist simulation,” Wanda stated without emotion.

Bucky turned around, seeing nothing but a neutral expression on her face. The simulation had been a success, the whole team had done well but he hadn’t seen you at the debriefing. Steve said you were exhausted and needed to rest. 

“What about it?” asked Bucky.

“Don't deny it. I saw it, I felt it. She had no chance of blocking me from that pain.” Wanda stood up, eyes flickering red, “you and that agent. I thought you were better than that Bucky.”

“Shit.” 

Bucky knew exactly what Wanda had meant before she explained. Shame coursed through him; he'd broken your trust by not telling you about the agent he’d been hooking up with. Honestly, he didn't want you to know, didn't want you to judge him for the flings he had. Subconsciously, he knew that was what your distancing was about because he hadn't seen her again or hooked up with anyone since.

All he wanted was you back in his life; he was going to make it happen.

Wanda smirked, shaking her head before walking ahead of him, “Best get a move on Barnes, she’s not thinking of him in a platonic way.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he strutted towards you, determined to get you back.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and he could only hope you still felt the same way.

You couldn’t believe Bucky dared to pull rank on you in front of another agent. That he had the gall to do such a thing after he told you to leave him alone, how he betrayed your trust as a friend and unknowingly broke your heart.

You stormed down the blurry corridors as anger took the form of tears. Your whole body tense and determined to get away from the assassin on your tail. People parted like the sea as they saw your strut and scowl, you scoffed at their reaction and thought, this must be what it’s like to be Bucky on a mission. Using it to your advantage, you managed to pull someone by the arm and into the path of the Winter Soldier.

While you sprinted away, you glanced back and spotted Bucky helping the woman to her feet, apologising profusely and then realising it was the agent you had caught him with. Your blood boiled as you pushed through the door to the stairwell, it slammed against the wall and probably damaged it, but you didn’t care anymore.

It wasn’t until the breeze hit your face that you realised where you were. You’d come to the rooftop, the exact spot that you’d air all your worries with Bucky. It was the place you’d first bonded outside of the team. 

A hand dragged down your face and your shoulders slumped. You spun on your heel, ready to escape when you stopped short. There he was, blocking the doorway. You groaned, of course, he knew exactly where you’d go even before you did.

“I just want to talk.” Bucky quietly spoke, a hint of a question in his tone but a statement all the same.

“I’ll scale down the side of this building if I have to.” You stepped back towards the edge.

Bucky growled and walked towards you, “would you quit being so stubborn and dramatic for one second?”

“Just leave me alone.” You threw his own words back at him, stopping him in his tracks.

At that moment, you could see that Bucky realised how hurtful those words were, but you weren’t going to console him anytime soon. He should suffer for how he spoke to you and for never attempting to speak to you until now.

Bucky slowly circled you towards the edge, his eyes focused on you while you turned in tandem following his moves. He reached the railing then settled down into a seated position, legs hanging over the side, his chest against the metal pole.

“Are you going to join me?” Bucky’s gaze now on the horizon.

With a roll of your eyes, you sat beside him, but at least a metre apart, you couldn’t get that close to him. He was too intoxicating, and your emotions were incredibly high, even if they were full of anger and hurt, and you didn’t trust yourself not to succumb to his charm.

“Are you going to talk then?” You sassed back at him.

“I’m sorry for what you saw. You shouldn’t have seen that.” Bucky didn’t hold back, “I was going to tell you, I just thought you’d judge me.”

“I’d judge you. For sleeping with a colleague. In the middle of a training simulation?” You scoffed, “You didn’t tell me about her. Or anyone else for that matter. Natasha filled me in on all your little late night rendezvous when I was on missions.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Bucky knew he’d not win this conversation and scrambled to bring it back onto his side, “you were away, and I needed something, someone.”

“So, you used them and used me too?” You glared at him.

“That’s not what I said,” Bucky seethed, annoyed at the way you were twisting his words but not surprised with the pain you felt. 

You continued, ignoring his comment, unable to stop the words falling from your lips, “I gave you emotional support. Watched you cry yourself to sleep after a nightmare, held your hand when you had a panic attack during a mission.” You shook your head at him, “I just wasn’t good enough for the sex part.”

Bucky held your chin and pulled your face to look at him, “You mean more to me than that. I just didn’t know how you felt. If I’d had known-”

You jerked away from his touch, it felt too nice, it felt like home, but you weren’t ready to fall back into this friendship. He knew how you felt, and you weren’t ready for his rejection. You still needed your space.

Swiftly, you returned to your feet, brushing down your trousers and hands, “Thank you for your apology, but I can’t forgive you.”

Bucky stood up and watched you begin to leave, “I’ll do my best to make you see how much you mean to me.”

You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.

Continue Here...

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes / @selfsun

strike through - unable to tag.

[absolutesort]

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨   ;    ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴜᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ !

what are your thoughts on max & dejan’s exit last night? why didn’t you vote for them?

         “ man, was that only last night ?  that feels like ages ago. ”  frankie waits for clarification from the camera crew.  it’s true what they say — a day on the inside feels like a week on the outside. “ sorry. so much has happened in the past few days, it’s just like... the inside of my brain right now looks like you gave a child a magic marker and just let them go absolutely balls-to-the-wall wild with it. ”  last night, she’d been crying about max leaving ( but it was hay fever ), fighting with callie, and then attempting to patch things up with her. today, she can’t even think about any of that, because she was yanked out of bed at the crack of dawn and transplanted to a new villa, with six new people.  “ i wanted to vote for them, but callie wanted rhys and bash. she’s been here longer, she knows the group dynamics better, so ultimately i let her do the choosing. it hurt to see max go, but i trust callie’s judgement. ” 

how are you feeling about the start of casa amor?

        “ honestly, i’m not gonna lie, i still don’t really know what casa amor is ? it’s like, we’re taken from our original partners and given all these new options ?  why not just put them in with all of us ? ”  unless the intention is to see if their behaviour differs when they’re away, like a boys holiday to ibiza where everybody fucks a stranger. but nobody’s official at the moment, so it feels like there’s not that much at stake. “ it’s actually nice to be away from all the drama. i know some of the originals — us, not the vampires — are super depressed about the whole thing, but that’s such a buzzkill for the new people. like, they’re just trying to have a good time, don’t shit all over them because you can’t get your dick sucked. i’m just gonna go with the flow and try to enjoy it, because you never know when you’re gonna get sent home to florida. ”  

are there any new islanders that have caught your attention? who?

      “ yeah, but more in a you seem fun to hang out with way than in a damn girl way. val’s sexy, mali’s cool, layla has a good vibe. even phoebe, which shocked me, because i did cheer in high school and had a really bad experience that basically scarred me for life. you ever see the movie easy a ?  it was like that but with cheerleaders. but phoebe’s not a bitch. uh... who else ?  miles caught my attention, mostly because he blundered through his introduction. ”  frankie’s snort-laughing as she attempts an impression. “ hi, i’m... smoking hot ! ”   she’s definitely not gonna let that one go.  “ but it was actually really endearing. he’s hot, he’s made it pretty clear he thinks i’m hot, and josh said he’s into me and that i should give him a shot. jury’s still out on whether i will. ” shrugging her shoulders, she bites down on her lip. “ i’m not actively looking to get to know someone, because i’m very happy in my current couple. but if somebody stumbles into my eyeline and there’s a vibe ?  i’m not going to shut anything down before i decide it’s run its course. ”

are there any new islanders you don’t see yourself vibing with?

     “ adela, which is a bummer because she’s super cute, but i can already tell she doesn’t like me and has like a wasp in her vag about it. i don’t know if she feels threatened because the title of resident sporty good time girl has already been claimed, or if she just hates the fact that everyone wants to fuck me, but it sounds like a her problem. i’m not getting involved. take it up with the ofcom therapist, dude. ”

do you think that your head could be turned?

        frankie purses her lips, considering her answer ( which is more than she’s done for any of the other questions ).  “ honestly, not really. i think they’d have to graft really hard to turn my head. callie and i have a good thing going, i’m excited to see if it becomes more than what it is. but at the same time, it’s been four days, and i said i wanted to keep my options open so... i’m not gonna shoot anyone down on day one. if they want to put their grafting boots on, they’re welcome to — who am i to stop people from telling me i’m sexy — but yeah, i don’t know if anyone else will have that same intensity and that chemistry with me that callie does. ” 

what do you think your ‘other half’ is up to in the other villa right now? how are you feeling about them?

    “ oh man, callie is gonna be so pissed about this. i’m just hoping she takes this as like, a good opportunity. obviously you get tested in the real world. people will hit on me, people will hit on her, sometimes we’ll want to explore that, and we’ll have to navigate that as a couple if this is going to work. ”  all of that’s true, and it doesn’t help that probably six out of six bombshells will be attempting to whistle careless whisper against callie’s snatch, but frankie has faith. “ selfishly, i hope she isn’t currently dry-humping some random from michigan, but i don’t put it past the bombshells not to lay it on like war paint. callie’s the fittest girl in there, she’s got a good heart, and she’s popular with viewers. i wanted her enough to steal her, so why wouldn’t they ?  i just hope she decides that i’m worth the trouble of sticking around. ”  

[ally-writes-many-things]

Kook vs Pogue (R. Cameron) Part 2

Summary: You were Rafe’s booty call and vice versa but after realizing that its always gonna be Kooks vs Pogue, you called it off. 

Words: 1.2k

Requested: Yes

Warnings or A/N: Towards the end of this part there is someone trying to take advantage of the reader but it doesn’t go anywhere. 

  It has been a month since you ended things with Rafe and neither of you have reached out to each other. You didn't have time to talk to him unless it was at work and that was strictly what he wanted to order to eat and drink. It looked like he had replaced you with Lonnie anyways. He had been with her more and more. You were at a party that your friends invited you too, you didn't want to go but they dragged you to go to it. It was a yearly party for the people you graduated with. The party was at the prom king's house. The party that you and Rafe first hooked up at was actually Kade's party. You wouldn't necessarily say you got along with him, but you didn't hate him.There was a lot of chaos going on. You didn't want anything to do with it so you just stood in the background of it all, just watching it all. There was a lot of drinking, making out, dancing. Hell, there was a couple one step away from fucking. Your friends had ditched you for some people that you barely remember, but you didn't care, actually you told them to go have fun. You were about to leave the party, but you heard a voice calling your name. "Y/N!" You turned around to find the voice that was calling your name and it was the prom king himself. "Kade," You were shocked that he was drunk at this point. He was usually drunk before any one else got here. He walked up to you and engulfed you into a hug. You patted his back unenthusiastically. "You look good." You pulled back from him. "Thanks. Shocked you're not drunk, yet," He chuckled. "Yeah, I got an interview tomorrow, and I don't need to be hungover," "Why didn't you just postpone the party?" "And disappoint our graduation class?" He wrapped his arm around the back of your neck and started walking towards a group of people. "We're about to play Never Have I Ever, come," "I-I don't think-" He pulls you with him over to where they were playing truth or dare. He let go of your wrist when you were at the circle of people. "Kade, I don't wanna play this, "Of course you don't, loser," You knew who this voice was before you even turned your head but you still turned your head and saw that it was Lonnie. It was Lonnie and Rafe was next to her. She was practically in Rafe's lap actually. "You know what Kade? I'm in," "Oooo. Someone's got balls tonight," You rolled your eyes and sat down next to Kade. You saw Rafe glare at Kade but Kade ignored it as he was sitting down. Kade and Rafe did NOT like each other during school, something about a car or a phone? You didn't know. You just knew they didn't like each other, but everyone was invited. You meant like they would try to fight each other every time they would see each other off school campus. Lonnie was about to say something but you beat her to it. "Ten fingers up, everyone," You waited for everyone to put their fingers up but before you could say anything, someone beat you to say the first never have I ever. " Never have I ever been fooling around in the car and accidentally honked the horn," You put your finger down, Rafe, of course, put a finger done, Kade did too and a few others did as well. Lonnie, however, didn't. She went this time. "Never have I ever been choked," You put a finger down, and a few other people did too. Lonnie look at you shocked. "What?" "Didn't know you like it that way," "Yeah, well, there's a lot of shit you don't know about it," "Like what?" "Stay a while. You might learn it," Lonnie rolled her eyes. "My turn. Never have I ever completed a session without ever laying down," You and Rafe put a finger down. - The circle had asked a shit ton of question, and every time Rafe had put a finger down, you put a finger down and vice versa. "Never have I ever completed a session without ever laying down," You, Rafe, Lonnie and Kade all put your fingers down but before you could say anything, Kade spoke. "Y/N, I dare you to kiss this person," Rafe's heart started pounding when Kade said that, surely, she was gonna kiss him right? I mean, yeah, they weren't anything anymore but he was the only one that she had a dirty crush on right? Right? Rafe's stomach dropped when he saw her lean over and kissed Kade. She pulled away from Kade and smirked at you. Oh, so she wants to play this game? Okay. Two can play this game. He thought to himself. He turned his head to look at Lonnie, and grabbed her face and kissed her, thinking that would do something. He turned his head to look at Y/n but she was already on her feet being led back into the house with Kade. - Y/n didn't know what came over her when she leaned over and kissed Kade. Kade wasn't the one who she had a dirty crush on. It was Rafe, but she didn't want anyone to know and wanted to make Rafe jealous, now she is walking upstairs with Kade to his bedroom. He brought you to the room and once you were in the room, he walked up to you and kissed you. You pushed him off. "Kade don't," He looked at you weird but tried it again. "Kade, I said stop!" He listened this time. "You're such a fucking tease," "I'm a tease? I never said I wanted to hook up. I just said that I had a dirty crush on you which truthfully speaking I don't. Any fucking interest I had towards you is gone now, you pig," Kade's face twisted into something that you scared you and before you realized what was happening, your face was stinging. Kade had slapped you hard. Your hand immediately went up and reached the spot he had slapped you. His face showed no remorse for it. "See, if you would've, just let me have you, this wouldn't have happened," You didn't say anything but pushed him hard which made him stumble and fell. You took this moment and left. You ran down the stairs and didn't pay attention to anyone as you were trying to run outside. "Y/n!" You knew the voice that was calling you was Rafe's but you ignored it and continued on outside but he had caught up to you as soon as you got to your car. He grabbed your arm which made you turn around and pulled your hand away from your face. He took a good look at it, hit your car and stormed back into Kade's house.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter two rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Moving and finding an apartment can be an incredibly long and stressful process. Unless you’re you, and life likes to throw a lot of curve balls at you for the utter hell of it.

Your dad dropped dead three weeks after you told Andy you were moving to New York. Coincidentally, right in the middle of you trying to find a place to live. He drank himself to death. Figures. You doubted you’d ever had a conversation with him that he was sober enough to remember. His untimely demise was unfortunate for him, because he died or whatever, but very fortunate for you. As his only child, you got his apartment in Queens and all his smelly hoodies.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and Dani after a night out in the streets of San Francisco. You had originally moved there after high school to start your show, The L/n Report. San Francisco was known for its crimes against the homeless population and you wanted to start with a story on that. You ended up interviewing Andy at the police station while investigating a missing person, and dated him for two years. Now, you were spending your last few hours in San Francisco with the very boy you once loved and the very girl he now did.

“Are you all packed?” Dani asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Pretty much. I gotta put my toothbrush and hairbrush in my suitcase in the morning. Other than that, I’m good to go.” You answered her. She smiled fondly at you as she linked her arm through yours.

“Hey, I’m really gonna miss you. More than that guy over there.” You whispered, nodding towards Andy, who had his head buried in his phone. Dani laughed and nodded in agreement as you continued to walk.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’re my best friend here.” She sighed sadly.

“I’m glad we’re friends. Most women in our position would hate each other.” You thought out loud.

“Uh uh. You’re thinking of women in films. It’s 2021, baby. Women support women. You and I are two talented, smart, beautiful women who would never be caught fighting over some boy. Especially not one who can’t take his eyes off his phone for two seconds.” Dani said loudly and smacked Andy’s arm. You laughed at the domestic moment but couldn’t help feeling a pain in your heart knowing he used to be that way with you.

“What, sorry?” Andy looked up. You and Dani looked at him before looking at each other and laughing.

“What’s funny?” He asked, growing annoyed.

“We’re laughing at you babe. Put your phone away. It’s Y/N’s last night here.” Dani scolded playfully. Andy sighed and reluctantly put his phone in his pocket.

“Right, sorry. And it’s not her last night here. She’s coming back. You are coming back, right?” He asked you. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure.

“Of course I’ll be back.” You shrugged. “I just want to experience something new for a while. I’ve done a million pieces on homelessness and poverty. I want to see what fresh stories New York has to offer.”

“You’re quoting the Daily Bugle, aren’t you?” Dani teased you.

“That is verbatim what they said to me.” You admitted with a laugh. “But hey, it worked. As of tomorrow, I’m the Daily Bugle’s newest investigative reporter.”

“Who are you reporting on anyway?” Andy showed a rare interest in your work.

“Some guy named Cletus Kasady.” You answered. “He’s some hot shot serial killer down in Queens. No one knows how he’s hiding his victims bodies. Apparently none have ever been close to being found.”

“And they want you to write the story on him?” Andy raised an eyebrow, always with the condescending tone.

“Well they heard about the whole Carlton Drake situation and decided I hadn’t been through enough trauma in my career.” You replied, earning a laugh from Dani but not Andy. You and Andy had already broken up by the time Carlton Drake contracted a symbiote and tried to kill you and Venom. You stopped him before he could hurt anyone and wrote a career defining article on his lethal human experiments. You managed to leave out all information regarding symbiotes from the article, so your secret was still safe. You were a fairly well known reporter since the incident and your next job was waiting for you in New York.

In the morning, You and Venom got on a plane and made your way to New York. Being on a plane with Venom turned out to be the equivalent to traveling with a toddler. You tried to sleep, but every two seconds you had to stop Venom from getting into trouble. She kept trying to open the window, even after you explained to her that everyone on the plane would die horrible death if the window were to open.

“Stop that.” You whispered when you noticed a black tendril creeping towards the window. The lady in the seat next to you shot me a look of confusion. You gave her a fake smile and turned back to the window, doing your best to conceal the small black tendril that was coming out of your body and fidgeting with the airplane window.

“We want it open.” Venom replied telepathically.

“Do you also want us to blow out of the plane and into space?” You said through my teeth.

“We didn’t anticipate that but it’d be appreciated.” Venom answered, making you groan. The rest of the plane ride followed in similar fashion.

Seven hours later, you arrived at the apartment building. You had never been to your dads apartment, you didn’t even know he had one. You wondered what happened to your childhood home as you looked around the place. The apartment wasn’t too small but not too big either. The rent was practically nothing compared to how expensive San Francisco was, and The Daily Bugle offered to cover your expenses until the story was done. You figured after some redecorating and moving in, it would make a fine new home.

The first seven days in the apartment went by smoothly. You unpacked, with little to no help from Venom, and set up the furniture. On the eight day, you sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels in the TV when you had a thought.

“Oh shit.” You said out loud.

“What?” Venom, who was curly nestled around your neck like a neck pillow, asked.

“I forgot mail exists.” You frowned. “We better go check the mailbox before it overflows.”

You and Venom grudgingly walked to the mailboxes and back again. No one was around, so she manifested herself and rested on your shoulder as I looked through the mail.

“Oops. I grabbed someone else’s mail too.” You clicked your tongue when you read a strangers name off the envelope. “I gotta find them.”

“Let’s go.” Venom said and pulled you towards the front door.

“Sorry, babe. This is a me thing, not a we thing. You know I love you but I don’t want to scare our neighbors. Not yet anyway.” You reasoned. Venom grumbled and went back inside your body.

You checked the address of the envelope and discovered that it belonged to the apartment directly across from you.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it as you mindlessly cracked your knuckles. Just as you were about to walk away, the door opened.

“Hi, are you May Parker?” You asked right away. You looked up from the envelope and your face instantly flushed. The person staring back at you definitely wasn’t May Parker. It was a boy around your age, maybe a little younger. He had soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair. It was gelled back loosely and you could see the outline of soft curls. To your surprise, he was just as flushed as you were. You stared at each other for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to blink.

“Yea. I’m May Parker.” The boy said finally. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head.

“I mean, no I’m not. But that’s my Aunt. May is my Aunt but I’m not May. That’s my Aunt May. I’m her nephew…obviously. Aunt May is my Aunt May. I…what?” He stumbled over his words and somehow turned even redder. His blush reached all the way down his neck, to his blue jumper that read “Midtown Tech” in yellow letters. You recognized the name of one of the most prestigious high schools in New York, already impressed with your new neighbor.

“Well hello, not May Parker. I’m also not May Parker. But I seemed to forget that when I grabbed your mail this morning. Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly as you handed his mail to him. The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at it and attempted to redeem himself.

“It’s not problem. She and I always forget to check the mail so you actually helped us, um, whoever you are.” He smiled weakly. His voice was cute. He had that Queens accent that the people of San Francisco lacked, for obvious reasons.

“Oh, right.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I’m Y/N L/N. I just moved here from San Francisco. I live across the hall.”

You pointed to the door behind you as if he didn’t know what “across the hall” meant. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were never this awkward.

His eyes lit up a bit once you told him where you lived.

“Really? I thought that smelly guy lived there.” The boy said and you stifled a laugh.

“That smelly guy was my father. He died a little while ago so I live there now.” You told him, malign the boys eyes widen. They were so brown. Like little pools of honey. Or little pools of the Hudson River. You had seen a million pairs of brown eyes before, but none like his. They were quite distracting to be honest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I had. I had no idea-“ he began to frantically apologize but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. We never got along. And you’re right, that man stank.” You chuckled. It was the first thing you said that felt like your old self. You hadn’t really talked to anyone since moving to New York, with the exception of Venom and the occasional phone call from Andy or Dani. You liked talking to this boy, though you still had no idea who he was.

“Oh thank God. I thought I screwed this up before it even went anywhere.” He immediately turned red when he heard his own words. You saw the regret in his eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

“Well it certainly can’t go anywhere until you tell me your name.” You flirted. Again, he relaxed. You felt a surge of confidence knowing he wanted this to go well.

“Parker. I’m Parker Peter. I mean, Peter Parker.” He fumbled over his words again, making you smile fondly.

“We like him. He’s cute.” Venom said telepathically. You looked down at my shoes and blushed, knowing you liked him too.

“And he looks delicious.” She added, ruining the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter Parker.” You gave him your best smile. “I’m glad there’s someone my age around here. Everyone I’ve met so far is either an old bitty or a creepy uncle type.” You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. You didn’t know what his sense of humor was like and he might not find you the slightest but funny. Andy always told you you were bad at telling jokes, and you feared he might be right.

Lucky for you, Peter burst out laughing.

“Ah. I’ve seen you’ve met Henry.” Peter pointed a finger down the hall. “Yeah, I’d stay away from him. He asked me if he could have pictures of my feet once. He said he’d “pay me handsomely” for it too.”

“Damn. So he beat me to asking you.” You pretended to be upset, which made Peter laugh again. The sound of his laugh made your heart pick up speed. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Boys rarely impressed you, Andy was just lucky you liked a man in uniform.

“Yeah. You better stay away from him.” Peter advised.

“It might be hard.” You clicked your tongue. “Our mailboxes are pretty close. I’ll make a mental note to never check my mail while wearing flip flops, though.”

Peter smiled at your joke. He had the kind of smile that you would make the person laugh just to see it again. It was brilliant.

“Well my mailbox should be directly above yours. So don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He grinned, and you grinned back.

“My hero.” You gushed as you put your hands over your heart. The tips of his ears went pink, like he was shocked that you said that.

“I’m no hero.” He sounded almost panicked, like you touched a nerve or something.

“We’re hungry. We need to eat.” Venom interrupted abruptly, causing you to jump. Since Peter couldn’t hear her, he looked at you strangely, not knowing the cause of your sudden jolt.

“Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a spider.” You lied.

“If there was a spider, we’d eat it. We need food. Now.” Venom demanded.

Peter looked up at his doorframe for the imaginary spider.

“Yeah, New York is full of them.” Peter said skeptically. “Not that full, though. And some spiders are nice. One might even call them friendly.”

“Right.” You laughed at his strange wording, unaware that you were both keeping a secret.

“Would…” Peter began but trailed off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. “Would you like to eat dinner with my Aunt and I? I remember when we first moved in, it took us a while to get into the swing of things and make dinner every night. If you like, you could join us. And, you know, we could get to know each other.” He offered. It all came out in one breath. You could tell he was nervous and that only drew you in more.

“I’d love to Peter.” You said, and he smiled in relief.

“Great.” He gave an awkward thumbs up. “We usually eat around six so maybe come around then? She’ll be so happy to meet you. She loves cooking and she always tries to get me to learn but I once burnt cereal and I still don’t know how.” Peter began to ramble. He cut himself off and shook his head again. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Then, you did something stupid. You put your hand on his arm like the dumb bitch you were. You barely knew this guy. Who the hell were you to touch him? He must’ve been thinking the same thing, since he instantly froze under your touch and stared at your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. I can’t cook either. Unless you count making tater tots as cooking. Then I’m Gordon Ramsey.” You assured him, feeling him relax under your touch.

“You’re just gonna mention tater tots without warning us first? Our mouth is watering. Can we eat Peter?” Venom asked, making your eyes widen.

If it was socially acceptable to scream at your symbiote in public, you would’ve yelled “NO, WE CANNOT EAT PETER” from the top of your lungs. But since you didn’t want to scare Peter and the rest of the neighbors away, you merely smiled and made another mental note to smack the shit out of Venom later.

“I love that man. “Where is the lamb sauce?” Peter mimicked in a bad British accent. He had no right being as charming as he was.

“No no no.” You shook your head. “His best line is “I’ll get you more pumpkin and I’ll ram it right up your ass. Would you like it whole or diced?”. He’s said some pretty wild things but that one makes me cry.”

Peters laugh rang through the halls. To be the cause of that laugh was a feeling like no other. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His eyes grazed down your body, but not in a crude way. You berated yourself for not dressing better when going to meet the neighbors, clad in nothing but a grey hoodie and some leggings. Peter looked cute, but you had a feeling he always did. His jumper was pretty baggy and you could see a collared shirt poking out the top. He was dressed almost professionally and you found it incredibly endearing.

You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know his secrets and his hobbies and what makes him itch. You wanted to see if he dresses this way on weekends too or what his summer clothes looked like. Your gawking was interrupted by Peters phone ringing. He broke out of his trance and answered it quickly.

“Hi, Mr. S. No I’m not busy. I mean, I’m super busy but I can totally make time for you. Yea, Happy talked to me. Okay. Okay. Where? Okay. See you in a bit.” Peter hung up and looked at you apologetically.

“That was my job. I have to run but I’ll be back in time for our dinner. I live at…you know where I live. I’ll see you then. Don’t be late.” Peter called as he ran down the hallway, towards the elevator.

“I won’t. See you later.” You called back.

You went back to your apartment and like a kid, broke out into a happy dance.

“Venom!! Did you see how cute he was?” You gushed. “And how funny he is? I have to get ready for tonight.”

Venom manifested and swirled around my arm.

“Someone has a crush.” Venom smirked. Well, as much of a smirk as she could muster with that huge mouth of hers.

“I don’t have a crush. I just think he’s cute okay?” You replied coyly. “Cute. And funny and sweet and charming and amazing. But that’s it.”

“We can feel your heart beat.” Venom reminded you. “It was going ten miles an hour. What would Andy say?”

You had been rummaging through your closet and stopped in your tracks. With Peters new inhabitance in your mind, you had forgotten all about Andy. You moved to New York to avoid his wedding and his moving on, and you might’ve succeeded.

“I don’t care what he’d say.” You decided. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But we want him to be.” Venom insisted. “We want him back, remember?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You answered honestly. “I just want to get ready for tonight.”

“Why are you getting ready now? You have 5 hours until you have to be there and it’s right across the hall.” Venom teased.

“Only 5 hours?” You sighed. “We better get moving.”

[combeauferre]

☀️ for bahorel

☀️ - a nice day outside

Bahorel wakes up exhausted and aching, and he really isn’t sure why. Rolling over to glare at his clock, he finds it’s only a few minutes before his alarm will go off and he groans. There’s nothing special going on today, just him wandering around the house trying to convince himself to do some cleaning.

He hates to admit it but the house has been too lonely since Jehan moved out and in with Grantaire, and the quietness that hangs around is oppressive. He should be hearing Jehan’s singing coming from the kitchen while he makes his morning coffee and the occasional “shit!” as he inevitably knocks something or makes a mess. He considers, not for the first time, getting himself a cat, just to make things lively again.

Trudging into the kitchen, he finds the dishes still need doing from the night before, and he sighs, wishing there was someone else to help him with it. The old kitchen radio left with Jehan and without it the only sound is the kettle slowly boiling, and uneasiness slips into his stomach.

It’s not long after he’s made his coffee that his phone buzzes, Feuilly’s caller ID popping up on the screen.

“Hey,” he says, trying not to let the tiredness in his voice betray him.

“Hey Baz,” Feuilly starts, and he sounds more tired than Bahorel feels. “Can I ask a really huge favour?”

“You can always ask.”

“We’re meant to be taking the boys to that new nature reserve today,” he says, in between muffled sounds of “yes, calm down, I’m asking him now,” before talking back down the phone, “And Alexandre told me he doesn’t want to go unless his favourite Uncle Baz is there.”

Bahorel can hear from the tension in his voice that he’s expecting a no, that he’s got to go into work and he has to disappoint Alexandre, who adores him. He thinks of the dishes in the sink, thinks about how much more he’d love to spend the day with Feuilly and Éponine and their boys.

“Of course I’ll come,” he says after a moment. The sigh of relief from Feuilly makes him laugh. “Tough morning, huh?”

“How did you guess?”

By the time Bahorel reaches Feuilly’s place, the tiredness has ebbed away in favour of a gentle excitement. Alexandre is his biggest fan and Théo isn’t far behind, and anything involving him instantly seems to become ten times more exciting. They’re running out to meet him as he pulls up and Alexandre jumps into his arms as he steps out the car, making him stumble backwards with an “oof”. Feuilly and Éponine follow after, looking more than relieved to see Bahorel.

Once put down, Alexandre grabs Bahorel’s hand and begins dragging him towards the other car.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” he yells, bouncing with each word. Feuilly and Éponine share a look and Bahorel just laughs along, pretending as best he can that holding back from Alexandre’s pulling is the hardest thing he’s ever done.

When they reach the park, Bahorel sees how much his presence is really appreciated. Alexandre and Théo drag him off ahead, and every time he turns around it’s to see Éponine and Feuilly hand in hand, enjoying their quiet privacy. He feels something of an ache for it, but he pushes it aside in favour of becoming the boys’ personal climbing frame.

“Uncle Baz!” Alexandre bounces up and down alongside him on the balls of his feet, grabbing at his wrist. “Do the arm thing, come on!”

Bahorel makes a big deal of sighing and holding out his arm.

“Okay, but just this once, right?”

It has never been just this once, and they both know it. Out comes his arm, and Alexandre immediately latches on and lifts his feet up off the ground, swinging and giggling as Bahorel heaves him along. Soon enough Théo is at his other arm, bounding alongside and arguing with his brother that he’s hogging Bahorel and it’s his turn.

“Hey Théo, come on, there’s enough of me to go around,” Bahorel laughs, gently lowering Alexandre to the ground. Théo folds his arms across his chest and sticks his tongue out at Alexandre but the second Bahorel offers his arm he stops in favour of hooking his own round it. When Bahorel picks him up he swings back and forth and Bahorel just about manages to hold his weight.

“Careful there,” he says, “I’m not as strong as I once was.” He doesn’t know what will happen when the boys are both too big to be carried around like this, and he doesn’t want them to ever think they will outgrow him. The look Théo gives him says he knows he’s getting too big, but Bahorel just grins and offers him a piggyback to take his mind off it.

The longer they walk, the more the busy park fades away into quiet forest. The boys seem to gain some respect for it, only arguing in whispers and tongues stuck out at each other, and Bahorel does his best to keep the peace between them. They’re having a little spat about who’s turn it is to piggyback when Bahorel stops them, putting a finger to his lips and turning them towards the river beside them.

“Look,” he whispers. They both follow his finger to see a flash of blue and a splash in the water, so quick they almost miss it. Out comes the blue once more, and Théo whips around to look at Bahorel.

“What was that, Uncle Baz?”

Bahorel can tell how hard he’s trying to keep his voice a whisper despite his excitement.

“Kingfisher,” Bahorel tells him, “keep watching and we might see him again.”

Sure enough, the kingfisher settles itself on a branch above the water, eyeing the fish in the river. Bahorel gently turns his head, beckoning Feuilly and Éponine over quietly to watch as the kingfisher watches, waits, and shoots back into the water to have another go at the fish.

As soon as the bird is in the water, it’s gone again, and after another few minutes of silent watching they decide to move on. Somehow the silence of the last few minutes seem to have overridden the boys’ respect for the quiet of the forest and they are loudly squabbling about who should have the next piggyback. But Bahorel isn’t bothered by that; there’s only so much longer he’ll be their beloved piggyback giver, arm swinger, cool older uncle, and he’s going to cherish every moment of it.

[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

[thefeedress]

FFA MUSINGS

I was 17 when I learned the terms "feeder" "feedee" and "feederism" from stumbling across one of those trash documentaries about the kink. Apparently, my sexuality revolved around extremes and predators: creepy straight men coercing naive women into transforming their bodies and their lives - the women didn't particularly seem to be getting off on it or even have much agency in the whole thing. The men were awful. (Sometimes, these days, I look back and wonder how much all the negatives of what I saw were exaggerated by the editing…)

That was my lightbulb moment, where I discovered the label for something very personal and private that I'd had all my life but always felt confused and ashamed about. I now also had the pleasure of feeling extra disgusting and very alone, having been shown what horrible company I was in, and that I now knew I was a feeder, but apparently all feeders were men.

Any furtive investigations online (in the reasonably early days of the internet) seem to confirm this suspicion: female feeders were not A Thing, there might possibly be one or two others out there at best. Male gainers only seemed to exist in their own niche in gay subculture, and although I was happy they were out there somewhere living their best lives, they were obviously Not For Me.

I was 34 when after years of pushing it all to the back of my mind, I finally gave in. I've been with the same (non-feedist) partner since my early 20s, so I just assumed that I'd never be able to explore it irl anyway, and that was that. I can't remember what happened or why I decided that I had to try to find some others to connect with, even just to chat with, but in the end (with my partner's blessing) I found and joined Feabie (of which I have many opinions but I'll leave those for another time…) and interacted with other feedists online for the first time in my life.

Guess what: straight male feedees exist. They exist, and there's fucking loads of them!! Tons of the buggers in my inbox all day every day for weeks. Pretty heady experience going from outcast freak to Much Sought After Item - apparently female feeders really are quite rare, or we don't have much of an online presence (or most of us are lurking in a secret lair somewhere that the others haven't invited me to, rude….) or they're also out there somewhere thinking they're the only one.

The unbridled glee of feeling popular and desirable for being something I'd always felt ashamed of did wear off a teensy bit after the endless onslaught of "hey" "hi" "how u" "ayy babygurl" "I'm looking for a feeder please accommodate all my kinks even though I'm a total stranger and I clearly don't give a shit about you as a human being" "You're a woman on the internet I'm entitled to your attention don't be difficult what's your problem" and my current favourite, the bizarrely ominous "Can I ask ur opinion?" (The answer is no my friend, if I wanted to be spammed with anonymous torso pics that I'm meant to manufacture comments about that you can get off to I'd have asked YOU.)

But. I'm still completely overjoyed that male feedees exist, that I've spoken to so many cool and interesting and lovely guys, that I've had experiences I'd always assumed I wouldn't, that I FINALLY MET OTHER FFAs and they are awesome and now I'm close friends with one and it's freaking GREAT. All of this has also lead my partner and I to discover polyamory and now I'm in love with two people who love me back NOBODY EVER SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED TO DO THAT WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME

There are so many nuances and preferences I'd never considered. I knew what I liked and that's what I sought out in terms of porn and that was that. Actually talking to feedees and learning about the whole spectrum of things they each did or didn't enjoy or want to participate in was a revelation, and also helped me clarify my own preferences myself.

There are still things I've yet to come to terms with or decide how to feel about. The main things I'd always felt guilty or ashamed of were less to do with fat or fat guys, it was the feeding itself.

Where being an FFA is concerned - I like to think that if I'd ever been lucky enough to have a fat boyfriend when I was younger, I wouldn't have been shallow enough to care what anyone else thought. It's possible I'm giving my younger self too much credit; I know for certain that some people in my life would have made nasty comments, I was also hugely insecure myself, and I have no idea what it really would have been like. I have no doubt that living all my life in a fatphobic society has affected me in more ways than I'm even aware of (same as everyone else in some way, I'm guessing....). I think any uneasiness I felt there was less worrying about shallow friends or family members, and more how to find potential fat partners without offending them. I have always been conscious of the fact that the majority of fat people would very likely be horrified to be thought of and objectified through the lens of this fetish. You never know what someone's relationship to their own body is, but it's safe to bet that it's a more complex one than it seems, and also, unless you're expressly invited into that relationship by that person, it's none of your fucking business.

But anyway, the main reason I never had many hangups about it was that I don't think I even *was* attracted to fat people when I was young - sometimes I'm not sure I was even attracted to anyone. I had crushes on boys all the time, but I never thought of anyone sexually. My teenage fantasies were pure belly kink: stuffing, chugging, bloating, inflation, any kind of ridiculous fantasy belly expansion - the actual fattening aspect of feeding was less a part of it, and fancying fat dudes was never connected to it. By the time I'd begun to join the dots and wonder if I liked fat boys, I'd started to happen across media that portrays the worst of Feedism, and since I liked sadistic fucked up stuff and already felt ashamed of it, all of that just confirmed to me that I was right to hate myself. Even now, when I'm exposed to much more conversation about this kink than I ever used to be, I notice a lot of love for soft feedism, wholesome fatness appreciation, body positivity, romance (all of which I absolutely love, don't get me wrong) and I still sometimes feel Iike I'm being left out of the party. Keeping my fingers crossed for more consensual femdom-feedism love (and content, ugh…)

But… what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the fuck over myself and put myself out there, tried to find others? How many other young people see themselves portrayed horribly in the media and hide parts of themselves FROM THEMSELVES forever? What happens next? I've apparently found the one person who likes all the same twisted things I do, but actually getting to see him irl ever or do any of the things we want to do seems impossible, and not just because of Covid.

This fetish is lonely for most of us I think, in some way or another. There aren't many feedists, there don't seem to be as many female feeders or male feedees, there probably aren't many people who will share the same preferences within the fetish that you do, and frankly when you filter out the people who aren't crazy or creepy or don't know how to hold a conversation, the pool shrinks even further. I've seen plenty of posts bemoaning how hard it is to find someone, but seriously, having spent most of my life in a vacuum where this stuff is concerned, I'm still buzzing from having engaged with the small handful of people I've engaged with, even just to chat to.

What I want to say to my younger self is: you're a good person. You're just a kinky bitch, that's all.

I feel like this description probably applies to all the best people, I can live with that.

[incorrect-natshig]

Do you have natshig fic recs? 👀

THIS IS MY NEW FAVOURITE ASK ANON TYSM💗💗✨

putting it under a cut bcs there's a whole lot more than you would've bargained for💖

The Blocked Hooligans by aphrodaisyacs (11.4k, single chapter) prequel

On January 24, Twitter users @diamond_dust404, @jackedfrost and @icespicebaby formed a group chat when they all got blocked by Endeavor’s official Twitter account. After nearly ten months of developing into a chaotic adoptive family of three, it all changes when Jacked Frost (Todoroki Natsuo) and Ice Spice (Todoroki Shouto) accidentally find out that they are brothers in real life. Clearly, the next step is to meet with their third member, right?

wii music by constellore (43k, 7/30 chapters)

If, five years ago, someone told Natsuo that not only was he going to find his long-lost older brother, but that he was also going to learn that his sister’s best friend was a villain, gain a sorta - kinda fake boyfriend in the leader of the League of Villains, and be partially responsible for the redemption of two of the most wanted men in Japan, he would have told them that they were nuts.

luminous things by cirriform (3k, single chapter)

Natsuo teaches Shigaraki how to fold paper cranes.

Bullet Wounds and Book Work by Mishafy (20.6k, ongoing)

Shigaraki Tomura, at Kurogiri's suggestion, joined a med school track to make up for the lack of a party healer. It just so happened that Todoroki Natsuo was taking the same online course.

The Todoroki In-Laws by aphrodaisyacs (30.6k, complete)

Over 10 years after the fight against the Paranormal Liberation Front, Rumi, aka the part-time hero Miruko and the proud wife of one Todoroki Fuyumi, decides it would be an awesome idea to create a groupchat with the significant others of the other Todoroki siblings. Maybe things would be easier if its members weren’t two Pro Heroes, a former one and a rehabilitated villain, but honestly, where’s the fun in that? (chatfic)

Lingering by thyandra (2k, single chapter)

Natsuo sighed, closing the fridge door. He was so immersed in his pointless musings that he didn’t immediately hear the furious buzzing nearby, muffled by a pillow as it was. That is, until the thing fell to the floor—Shigaraki’s phone, Natsuo recognized once he glanced that way. He shouted a call of his name, but only got a muffled grumble back. Shigaraki was no doubt too absorbed in his game to give a fuck about his still buzzing device, and Natsuo- Natsuo hadn’t really meant to catch a glimpse of the screen. (Tomura has Natsuo as his lockscreen. Natsuo finds out.)

Caught Me at a Record Low by nocturnalgf (9.8k, ongoing)

It starts, as many things do, in a dirty alley. Shigaraki is dying, probably, until Natsuo comes to help him. And after that, Natsuo can't keep himself away.

Shigaraki Tomura’s Walkthrough to Infiltrating a University, Getting a Boyfriend, and More by JajaLala (73k, complete)

In order to recruit Dr. Ujiko Daruma, his Sensei's old doctor who fled after his arrest, Shigaraki must infiltrate the university the doctor is now working at. Problem is, even when he and some League members enroll as students, they discover it's almost impossible to meet the doctor unless you're enrolled in his advanced seminar. Fortunately, Shigaraki meets Natsuo, a premed in Dr. Ujiko's seminar, whose trust he must earn to meet the elusive doctor. However, the two of them might have more in common than Shigaraki expects...

Snow Day by Sensationalcrazyna (700 words, single chapter)

Shigaraki hates snow, but he'll go for his boyfriend.

The Todoroki Family is a Disaster™ by Tigers101 (2.7k, single chapter)

The Todoroki family is a disaster, and family dinner is even worse. Or, Fuyumi is going to lose her shit because she's apparently one of the only sane ones.

we will dream of the sea by crumbsfiction (3.6k, single chapter)

It’s a mechanism of self-defense, after all - trying so hard to be liked. If he can gain Tomura’s approval, if he can prove himself to this group, Natsuo will be fine. It will all have been worth it, dragging his name through the mud in search of a ghost. Besides, watching Tomura comes easily - in fact, Natsuo barely has to think about it at all.

Hoodie by MangoQueen (1k, single chapter)

Shigaraki gets cold and Natsuo offers for him to borrow a hoodie

Dear Tomura, I Hate You. Now Let's Play Some Video Games by  IDealess_at_this (6.6k, ongoing)

Natsuo finds himself in the library after a terrible family dinner. However, after an unconventional meeting, he also finds himself being held hostage by the worst villain league ever. Getting revenge on his father while helping each member of the dysfunctional family through their struggles in the process doesn’t sound too bad!

and of course my beloved AUs💗

a coin to a crane by bittermoons (22k, 5/10 chapters)

Two ordinary (or so they think) high school students from Tokyo stumble upon another world through their dad’s dojo, leading to all sorts of bizarre consequences when they meet a cosplaying asshole of a kodama—a tree spirit—on the other side. Who knew useless video game knowledge and an unlimited cell phone data plan would come in so handy?

sugar and spice by bittermoons (4.7k, single chapter)

Shigaraki Tomura is a judge who hates soggy bottoms on The Great Japanese Bake-Off. Todoroki Natsuo is a stand-up comedian most famous on the web for making fun of his SO, who he calls 'Tanaka Taro' in all his routines. When Natsuo joins the crew of Bake-Off, online speculation explodes over his relationships with Shigaraki and Taro.

hazy days under august shade with you (it's all like magic to me) by constellore (8k, single chapter)

Natsuo is content living in the small village of Eadu, but when his brother becomes the victim of a curse, he's left scrambling for a way to undo it. Desperate for a cure, he manages to find the mysterious Magician of the Western Mountains—a man who raises far more questions than answers, especially when Natsuo finds himself volunteering to spend the summer in the mountains with him in order to aid him in breaking Touya's curse. Love had never been part of the equation, but between sweltering summer days and conversations in the dead of night, Natsuo can't say that he minds.

Love Comes Slow (and goes so fast) by Tigers101 (14.8k, single chapter)

"I’ve never been enough.” Natsuo's expression darkened. “I’ve always been the failure of a middle child, worthless and alone. I’ve never been anything to anyone." Tenko looked at him, his eyebrows creased in something close to anger. “Well, everyone else can go fuck themselves. You’re everything to me.” (natshig fantasy au + major character death)

Here Be Faeries by cafeanna (5k, single chapter)

“Terrible thing, terrible thing,” The burning man tusked and tisked. “Caught the eye of a Prince, gave a Name, and killed the King. Now he wears a crown of blooded amber and elk horn, and sleeps on a bed of thistle and roses. The King calls him frostbite, willow-boned, and beloved.” 

Natsuo Todoroki walked into the woods at the beginning of summer and never came out. A month later, Fuyumi and Shouto are left in the aftermath of a missing person’s case and a growing fear of the place they grew up.

Know That You Love Me (even when I lose my head) by Tigers101 (1.5k, single chapter)

“I hate you.” Tenko grinned. “No, I really don’t think that’s the case. You wouldn’t have saved me from homework if that were the case.” (natshig roleswap au)

[twdeadfanfic]

Vows Pt.5

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

90% of this chapter is the second part of the flashback from last chapter, when Daryl and reader met pre-show.

A couple more days passed, two, three, you weren’t sure, the days blurred a bit when you stayed inside that room doing the same every day. You were allowed to leave, if one of the guards went with you and you told Negan beforehand and why, but nobody usually bothered. There wasn’t much to do or to see at the  Sanctuary anyway, just sadness.

Frankie had left today, she was going to see her brother, she was allowed to go talk to him every other day, she kept Negan happy with her massages and with everything else. When she came back, she seemed mad, closing the door behind her with a loud bang, startling you all.

“Where’s that prick?!”

“She’s in the bedroom with Tanya…” Lila said and Frankie didn’t say anything, making her way to the door, seeming murderous angry, but Abby stepped in front of her, stopping her and grabbing her arms,

“What happened?”

“That prick has my brother working on the fence! I almost saw him getting bitten! I fuck that prick, my brother shouldn’t have to do shit like that!” Frankie yelled, fuming. “Get out of my way!”

Frankie tried to walk past Abby and to Negan’s bedroom, but Abby grabbed her arms again, dragging her back. “Whatever you want to do, don’t! You know what will happen! He’ll kill you, your brother, and everyone else of your family!”

Frankie struggled again, but then the door opened and Negan walked inside, half-dressed, with Tanya following him, looking at all of you wide-eyed.

“What the hell’s going on?! What’s all that fucking noise and yelling?!” Negan asked, and then he noticed Frankie and Abby, who was still grabbing her arms.

You were afraid that Frankie was going to do something, but it seemed that Abby has gotten to her and she didn’t say anything. She broke free from Abby’s grasp and went to her room, ignoring Negan.

Negan frowned at Frankie’s closed door and then looked at Abby. “What was all this shit about?”

“She and I…we just had a disagreement, nothing to worry about.” Abby shrugged.

“A disagreement?” Negan rolled his eyes. “Women, can’t live together without can fighting over shit.” He chuckled. “What have I told you all about that? Not unless you’re naked in front of me and covered in oil.”

“I’ll remember it for the next time.” Abby winked at Negan and gave him one of those seductive smiles that you didn’t know how she could pull off like that.

“What were you fighting about anyway, girls,” Negan said while pouring himself a glass of whiskey and flopping down onto an armchair.

“This.” Abby waved at herself. “It’s one of the new dresses that you brought us from Alexandria. Frankie said that she wanted it but I think it looks way better on me…it’s not my fault that Frankie doesn’t have these boobs.” Abby shrugged and you almost clapped at the act.

“Abby, sweetheart, you look fucking delicious.” Negan looked her up and down, smirking. “But, fighting over a dress? You all have more than enough, can you all girls play nice and share?”

“Share?” Abby moved closer to Negan, and then she straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and making Negan smile wider. “I’d say we share enough here…”

“Mmm���someone’s getting jealous?” Negan purred and Abby shrugged before kissing him, and you really did not want to watch them making out, but it was also kind of fascinating to see Abby like that, when she was all the time talking shit about Negan. You wondered once again how these women did it.

“I know I’m the best fuck in here anyway…admit it,” Abby murmured as he started to kiss Negan’s neck.

“Now, now, darling, that’s not a nice thing to say in front of all my other wives…” Negan said, placing her hands on Abby’s hips.

“Maybe I’ll show them, then…” Abby began to rock on Negan’s lap, grinding on him, and you finally looked away, wondering if they were just going to fuck there. That’d be a first, but it wouldn’t really surprise you.

“Sounds tempting but I don’t want more jealousy and catfights.” You heard Negan saying and you wondered if he really thought that any of you would care if he fucked someone else and spared you.

You heard Negan moving and Abby chuckling, and you looked at them. He had gotten up, lifting Abby with him, her long legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck, and he walked to his bedroom.

“Well…” Tanya began once the door was closed and they were gone. “He can be a smart guy sometimes, but most times his cock takes the wheel…which is fortunate.” You had to snort and agree with that.

The door of Frankie’s room opened and she walked out and flopped onto one of the couches.

“You almost got yourself and everyone you love killed,” Noemi scolded her.

“I know,” Frankie muttered. “Won’t happen again.”

“Hey, Frankie,” Lila called for her. “You do have nice boobs too, so don’t let that get to you.”

Frankie snorted, throwing one of the couch’s pillows to Lila, who just caught it and placed it behind her head as he shifted to lie down on the couch, smiling.

*

Abby didn’t come back until dawn. You were sleeping with the door of your bedroom open and you woke up when she got into the main room. You got up and went to join her, finding her drinking from a wine bottle in one of the couches, and he offered it to you when you sat down next to her.

“You were in there for a long while today,” you said, taking a sip from the bottle before giving it back to her. Wine for breakfast. Why not.

“Yeah, he fell asleep, I spent him.” Abby snorted. “And he doesn’t want us leaving when he’s asleep, says we can’t walk away from him.” She rolled her eyes. You wouldn’t know, he always had someone else after he was done with you. “So I had to wait for him to wake up.”

You hummed. “Quick thinking, back there. It was a nice thing to do, to cover for Frankie.”

Abby shrugged. “Nothing that she wouldn’t have done for me.” You guessed so. You had found that these women were protective over each other, and you were starting to feel like that. “Besides…I get her. If Negan’d have pulled some of that shit on my sister, I go in there and smash this bottle on his head.” Abby lifted the bottle of wine. “You don’t have siblings, right?”

“No…Daryl had a brother, Merle…Daryl was very protective of him too, despite Merle being a major ass…”

Then…

It had taken Daryl and you two days to find his brother, while it should have been less than a day, but the road that you were following was clogged with cars and walkers, and you were forced to take detours and even get into the woods with the bike from time to time. You never went to the main roads, Daryl told you that those were full of traffic jams of people trying to get to the city and the camps, attracting walkers. Part of you thought that maybe it’d be better to go to one of those roads, find more people, get to a camp, but you weren’t about to go on your own, and Daryl was only focused on getting to his brother.

You weren’t unarmed anymore, Daryl had given you a big knife, and he had even shown you how to use it, not only so you wouldn’t end up just hurting yourself, but so you could kill any walker that stumbled to you too. He seemed fearless, often going to put down walkers instead of just ignoring them, seeming to really hate those monsters. You were still scared of them, and you had put down one with your knife, listening to Daryl’s instructions, but you weren’t very confident in your ability. You didn’t know how Daryl could be so good at it.

As you had noticed, Daryl was rough and harsh with words, not that he spoke much. His way of speaking to you and his tone annoyed you sometimes, but at the same time, you knew that not only had he given you a knife and trained you with it, he kept you safe in more ways. He watched your back, always had you under his sight, making sure that you weren’t near threats alone, even if he acted like he didn’t care, and hunted to feed you both. He was rude, sure he was, but he hadn’t tried anything inappropriate and he didn’t ask anything for his help. In a way, it felt good to know that you had watching your back someone who seemed to be good at surviving and who made sure that you survived too, no matter that he acted like he didn’t care or how harsh he could be.

On the second day, you arrived at the town nearest to the prison where his brother should have been taken. You had stopped before riding too close, on an elevation from which you could see the town, and even from afar you could see several groups of walkers roaming the streets.

“Shit…” Daryl muttered, getting off the bike and walking back and forth while he kelp looking at the town.

“There might be people hauled in any of the buildings,” you suggested, you didn’t want to give Daryl false hopes, but in just two days, you had seen how important his brother Merle was to him, and you didn’t like to see him discouraged like that. “But we can’t ride in.”

“I can,” Daryl said, getting into the bike again.

“Daryl, it is suicide.”

“Stay here if you wanna, I’m going.”

“Daryl.” You stopped in front of the bike, even if you weren’t totally sure that Daryl wouldn’t just run you over, and you grabbed the handlers, while Daryl glared at you. “You can’t ride in, every group of walkers will go to you, you can’t fight them all on your own, or with me. You know it.”

“Then what the fuck do you want me to do!”

“I don’t know…we’ll think something, we’ll come up with a plan,” you said, sounding unconvincing. You believed that Daryl’s brother was dead, like all your friends and family, but you didn’t know how to break it to him without making him freak out.

Merle wasn’t dead, though, and suddenly, he had come out of the woods near Daryl and you. Daryl’s head snapped towards the sound and you followed his gaze, finding Merle. If Daryl had seemed rough, that was nothing with how his brother looked. You were about to freak out, wondering if the stranger was dangerous, when Daryl spoke.

“Merle!” Daryl jumped off the bike, going to his brother.

“I was sure had heard my bike, I’d recognize that purring anywhere,” Merle said. “I told you not to touch it, lil’ bro.”

“Wasn’t done fixin’ mine…what…are you okay?” Daryl seemed almost as shocked as you at his brother appearing out of the blue.

“I’m fine, lil’ bro...you too, uh? I knew it. We Dixons are hard, even you.” Merle chuckled as he wrapped an arm around his brother, and then he looked at you. “Well, well…look at that…you got yourself a bitch, baby bro?”

“Excuse you?” You snapped.

“That’s, uh…that’s Y/N…” Daryl said, walking to you again. “Found her at the road, her town was full of those dead assholes, so I took her with me.”

“Keepin’ yourself entertained, I see…” Merle chuckled, looking you up and down with a smirk, and you didn’t like the way in which he was talking at you or what he was implying, but before you could snap, Daryl spoke again.

“What the hell happened to you, Merle?”

“The guards were taking me to prison when we run into a group of those things on the road. They went to inspect what was going on, weren’t that smart, one ended with her throat tore open, the other bitten,” Merle began to explain. “I managed to convince him to unshackle me, I thought that prick was goin’ to leave me there. We killed the ones on the road, but we saw another group comin’ from the town, they’re attracted to the sound,” Merle kept going, and by now you had figured that too.

“We got into the woods, found a warehouse near, seemed a good place to hide. The guard died that night and when I realized, he had turned into one of those things,” Merle said, and Daryl had already told you that he thought that if you were bitten, you turned into one of those. This seemed to confirm it. “So I put him down. That was…three days ago? Ain’t sure. I’m still at the warehouse, but I was about to leave today, go back home…but…” He took a look at the town. “Fuck me…there weren’t half as many the last time.”

“Our town is full of those too, we can’t go back there,” Daryl explained.

“Everything is full of them, they’re everywhere, more every day,” you said. “We should go to one of those military camps…they said that there was one near Atlanta, we can’t be far from it now.”

The Dixons looked at each other. “Come on, to the warehouse,” Merle said. “Safest place for now.”

You all spent almost a week at the warehouse, before a big group of walkers had arrived, threatening to trap you in there forever, and so you all had to rush out. The Dixons had put down a few walkers that had gotten too close, and you had managed to put down one even if you were scared, for which you were quite proud.

There had been a pickup near and Merle had driven the bike onto the open back of it, and then you both had rushed into the cabin, driving away, hitting secondary roads and even paths through the woods, where you camped for days.

All that meant, that you had to spend almost two weeks alone with the Dixons, before you’d end up finding the quarry camp…if it had been only Daryl, you guessed it wouldn’t have been that bad, even if he was brash, but Merle…Daryl seemed prince charming indeed in comparison to his brother.

Merle was loud, obnoxious, and just a major prick, who wanted to be in charge of everything and talked down to Daryl and bossed him around in a way that you were sure if it were another person, Daryl would chop off their head. But he just took it from his brother. Merle never shut up, only when he was asleep, always giving his opinion on everything, sputtering nonsense and bullshit adorned with sexism, racism, and everything else along those lines, besides crude and perverted comments towards you, only to dismiss it as being joking when you snapped, but you knew better.

Besides all that, you knew that he had a bag full of different kinds of drugs, and it wasn’t unsual to find him high. When you had told Daryl, he had gotten angry, telling you to “mind your fucking business.” He had been harsh with you before, but not the way he was now when it involved his brother.

Every time that Merle opened his mouth, you wanted to sew it closed or punch him, or both. But every time that you talked back or snapped, or you two argued, Daryl would take his brother’s side and snap at you too, and you were more than fed up with it.

You had thought that Daryl was rough and harsh, sure, but not that he was a major asshole…which now you weren’t sure about, and you hated how whenever Merle said something sexist, racist, or anything like that, Daryl didn’t say anything against it, and you had caught him a few times repeating his brother’s words, as if he thought like that too.

You were tired and done with that, and the fact that the Dixons were alive people, the only alive people around, it seemed, in a world that looked full of dead monsters, wasn’t feeling enough to stick around anymore. Besides, every time that Merle did an inappropriate joke, you felt more and more uncomfortable, and so, one day, after Merle said something so sexist that even Daryl had seemed uncomfortable, you decided that you’d leave and try your luck, follow the signals to Atlanta, see if you found a group of alive people out there.

You were camped at the woods, the Dixons had made a perimeter with cord, hanging stuff that’d make noise if walkers approached.  You had to admit that you had learned a good fair of survival tips in your days with the Dixons. Merle was asleep after having gotten high and Daryl was taking watch.

“I’m gonna pee,” you announced, walking away, only with your knife in your belt and nothing else. It was unwise, but you couldn’t be around Merle anymore.

You had stepped outside the wire carefully so as not to rattle it and make noise, but still, it seemed as if Daryl had suspected of what you were gonna do, and so he was behind you.

“Where’re you goin’?”

You let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “Look…I…thank you for everything, but I’m going to go on my own.”

“The fuck you sayin’,” Daryl scoffed, frowning at you.

“Daryl…have you seen the way Merle talks to me? I can’t stand it anymore.”

Daryl shrugged, his frown getting deeper. “That’s just how Merle is.”

“Yeah…” You snorted. “That’s why I’m leaving…I can’t stand his bullshit anymore and it’s looking like you agree with him, so…” You  just shrugged and turned around to keep walking

“You can’t leave, you’ll get eaten.” Daryl scoffed as if you were an idiot.

He rushed to you and grabbed your arm as if he were going to drag you back to the camp, so you younked your arm free, you were starting to get annoyed. Sure, Daryl had helped you, but since finding his brother, he’d been acting like he didn’t give a shit about what happened to you, and let his brother say all kind of mean things to you, you even though he agreed.

“Like you care anyway!” You snapped. “You too think all that sexist bullshit! And I’m not going to let you both talk to me like that.”

Daryl was annoyed too, glaring at you, and he scoffed. “Yeah…yeah, I don’t care, don’t give a shit!” He snapped. “Go get eaten if that’s what you wanna, crazy bitch!”

“Yeah, crazy bitch, I heard it before,” you muttered, walking away and towards what you hoped was Atlanta’s direction.

Soon, though, you had stumbled into walkers that seemed to come from the road near that part of the woods, where a car jam had turned into a monster's feast. You had put down a couple, surprising even yourself, but they were too many.

You wondered if you could outrun them, you thought so, but you were worried about just running to nowhere and getting lost. It wasn’t looking like you didn’t have much choice, but then, an arrow embedded itself into the head of one of the walkers. You looked back and Daryl, who said that he didn’t care and acted like so, had followed you and was there, recharging the crossbow and putting down another walker, while you went to do the same with another, and the last one fell to the ground with another arrow into its head.

“You were right, I’d get eaten,” you muttered bitterly as Daryl approached, looking at you as if expecting you to snap again.

“Yeah…it ain’t…ain’t safe to be alone…so…” He shrugged, looking down. “You have to come back.” You let out a sigh…yes, you knew you should, you ought to stick together with alive people in order to survive, you needed help and people watching your back, and yet… “Merle…the things he said about you…I, uh…I don’t think those…” Daryl muttered, and those weren’t the only things that the Dixon’s said that annoyed you, but still…it was something, and it was unexpected. “But…that’s how Merle is. But you can’t go on your own ‘cause you’ll be geek’s food.”

You looked around at the dead monsters on the ground…yeah, you knew that Daryl was right…not to mention that you had been eating of what he hunted, sleeping while he took watch knowing that no monster would sneak on you, you knew that being alone was unwise and dangerous…

“And you care?” You asked, still a bit annoyed and hurt.

Daryl shrugged, looking down and chewing at the skin of his thumbnail. “I guess,” he finally muttered and you let out a sigh.

“Okay, let’s go back.” You gave in and Daryl nodded, turning to walk back to the camp without saying anything else. “Daryl?” You called for him but he didn’t look at you. “I guess I care too about you not being geek’s food.” It was true, no matter how annoyed at him you could get, for some reason, you cared.”

Now…

“Yeah…yeah, Merle was a prick,” you repeated, and Abby seemed amused. “But he meant the world to Daryl.”

When Merle was left in Atlanta, Daryl had let you hug him, back when he didn’t let himself be comforted that much, and had even cried…and then, months later, when he had found his brother dead, it had destroyed him, it had broken his heart, and it had broken yours too, to see Daryl hurting like that, crying and crying while you held him through the night, trying to comfort him somehow, feeling like his pain was physically hurting you.

“Yeah…that’s how it goes with siblings.” Abby gave you a sad smile. “I’m gonna catch some sleep.”

“Okay…”

*

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

IF YOUR TAG IS IN BOLD IT’S BECAUSE I CAN’T MAKE IT WORK (AS YOU KNOW i’M MAKING A NEW TAGLIST)

New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be (un)tagged please let me know.

@jodiereedus22​ @coffeebooksandfandom​  @gruffle1​ @twdeadlysins​ @yenne-yen-illustrations​ @mychemicalimagines​   @haleypearce​    @superflannel​ @sourwolf-sterek32​ @angelontheinside​  @firehoopinmama​ @lonewolf471​   @hopplessdreamer​ @daryldixonandfrogs​  @fanfictionsilove​   @collecting-stories​ @princessxpunk​ @hells-mistress​ @justyouraveragefangirl1967​ @carnationworld​    @smiithys​ @polkadottedpillowcase​ @elisdays​ @mysterious-398​  @captainbuckyboobear​   @dazzledamazon​   @spidergirla5​ @lilythemadqueen​ @lightning-butterfly​ @purplebtsmagic​ @barra-cudaaa​   @courtnytrash04​ @amazingapricot​      @seizethesam​ @harpersmariano​  @eternalslingshot​  @fuseburner​ @phoenixblack89​  @boywivlove​  @amaroho​ @woundmetender​  @classyunknownlover​ @masterninjacow​ @tenderlyunlikelyexpert​ @shadowfoxey​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @lilac-day-dreaming​ @datidixon​ @sabrinabernal​  @nj01​ @rachelxwayne​  @elamy17​  @angelofthor @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @thanossexual​ @daryldixonstorm​​ @sttrawberries​ @huffledor-able541​ @lucillethings​ @browneyes528​ @soraitmnt​​  @thereshallbenoother​​ @chickenparmandstoicvulcans​​ @leej2468​​  @heartlessmarvello​​ @itsmeempar​​  @redneckstrash​​ @bxxbxy​​ @bitchynicole​​ @pulplorrd​​  @supernatural79impala​​  @the-artistic-animal-lover​​   @selfsun​​ @thiccblondeliv​​ @maggie-l-m​​ @baseballbitch116​​ @tranquiiit​​ @sweatywildpanda​​ @supernatural79impala​ @theteaset​​  @amaroho​​ @my-current-fandom-is​​ @sapphire1727​​ @sapphire-angel​​  @insidetoughcake @whitexwingedxdoves​​ @nickangel13​​ @oceans-daughter-3​​  

[krispytidalwavesheep]

a Natasha x fem!reader where Nat has been distant and reader thinks shes cheating, but in actuality she lost the engagement ring she got for reader (maybe because of another team member 👀) and is trying not to let her find out

My lovely anon, thanks for the prompt! I added a lot of backstory, I hope you still like it!

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You and Natasha have been together for the better part of three years and you always thought you two were happy. When you joined the team 4 years back, and you got along like a house on fire, since your pasts were quite similar. Natasha was a victim of the red room and you were a victim of Hydra. They ripped you away from your family when you were still a child and trained you to become one of the best assassins they ever had. They took everything from you, broke you into pieces, and put you together just the way they needed you. But you were very stubborn, waiting for a chance to escape their clutches.

And 6 years ago, your chance came. Some Shield Agents were infiltrating one of your bases and as luck would have it, you were right in the middle of it, taking Hydra Agents out left and right. That's where you met Clint, after the worst of the fighting was over he held you at gunpoint, demanding answers. You couldn't help yourself, all your pent up emotions broke free and you broke down crying, telling him everything. Maybe it was the relief that came with the realization that it was finally over and that you were finally free. Or so you thought.

Even though Clint pitied you and stood up for you, they still took you in for questioning. But you weren't bothered all that much by that, since you understood where they were coming from. You have been with Hydra for almost twenty years, of course, they wouldn't trust you, just because you broke down in front of one of their best agents. Still, you were afraid. What would they do to you? Would they torture you for information and kill you, cast you away once you outlived your usefulness?

They put you in chains and you went willingly. Agent Hill got the job of questioning you and you gave them everything you've got. Locations, double agents, everything you thought would keep you alive for just a little while longer. Your cell wasn't all that bad, and sometimes Clint would come over to check up on you, asking about what they did to you. That was the hard part. You knew they sent him to test if you would be trustworthy, or if you would betray them, just like you betrayed Hydra.

It wasn't easy to tell them everything. You were scared that Hydra would get back to you and it would all be over. They would torture you, kill you in the worst possible way. Hydra didn't like loose ends.

“I know someone who is quite like you... Less open though. We couldn't get any information out of her for months. But then again, her circumstances were a bit different than yours” Clint told you one day, and you got curious.

“Her name is Natasha, but don't tell anyone that I told you that. Especially her, if you're ever gonna meet her” he said and scratched his neck.

“So I am still not trustworthy?” You asked bitterly, getting tired of all the questioning. It has been months and you already gave them all you got, including your sad backstory.

“Don't give up just yet y/n... I think you won't be a prisoner for that much longer” Clint smirked and winked. And he was right. Two weeks later you were set free, under one condition: You had to join shield as a special agent. Of course, you agreed, since it would keep you safe from Hydra too. But they wanted to test you and test you they did. That was when you first met Natasha and the second you saw her, you knew you were done for. You seduced many men and women when you were with Hydra, and a lot of those people were stunning. But you never met someone so beautiful.

“So you are the Hydra-Girl?” she asked matter of factly when she entered your cell. You didn't know what to say to that, still mesmerized by her. Later you would say that it was love at first sight, just to mess with her.

“Uhm... yeah? Unless you took other stray Hydra-Girls in, that is” you stuttered. She smiled at that and said, “They want me to test your combat abilities.”

You already thought that that was the reason why they sent her and you followed her eagerly, happy to be out of your cell for once. She took you to the basement of the building, where they had the biggest training room you have ever seen. Clint was there too.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” he smiled and to your utter surprise, fist-bumped you. You hadn't much time to talk though, since Natasha motioned for you to get into position.

“Don't hold back. I won't either” she said and crouched. You smiled and got into position too. It was a surprisingly long fight since you hadn't had much time to work out in your cell and with all that questioning. But what after felt like hours you had Natasha pinned down to the ground.

“Wow... I don't think anyone ever managed that!” Clint whooped from the sidelines and you grinned, helping Natasha up.

“Nice work Rookie. My name is Natasha Romanoff and Clint and I will keep an eye on you from now on. I'll bring you back to your room, where you can get settled. After that, we will show you around the facility.”

And that's where your life finally truly began. Most people were still cautious with you, but Natasha, Clint and you developed a fast friendship. You soon became the resident Hacker for Shield, since they didn't want to risk losing you to Hydra on field missions. You were the gal in the chair and you were content. And soon enough, Fury trusted you enough to make you a part of the Avengers. Right about the same time you confessed to Natasha that you fell in love with her and to your utter surprise, she felt the same way. You two were happy, sure, not everything was sunshine and rainbows, mostly because the two of you suffered such huge traumas. But at the end of the day, everything was worth it and you finally felt like you belong.

That is why you were upset right now. Natasha was acting weird, distancing herself from you. Most nights she even slept in her room, which only happened if you had a huge fight and never for more than one night. You were barely talking anymore, not for a lack of trying on your part though. She just slipped away more and more and you wondered where you went wrong. You tried talking to her on more than one occasion, but she would always have another excuse as to why she couldn't talk right now.

The worst was yet to come, though. You finally managed to corner her and you were pretty sure she couldn't slip away that easily now, but of course, she didn't. She just mumbled some excuse of going on an overnight mission with Clint, but that she would talk to you when she got back. Funny enough, when you wandered to the compound kitchen later that night, Clint sat beside Peter, happily talking about some archery tricks.

“Oh, I thought you were on an overnight mission with Natasha?” you frowned as you entered the kitchen and Clint looked... guilty? What was going on? And then it hit you. Natasha was cheating on you, she must have found someone else and that was the reason she was behaving so weirdly.

“List y/n I can explain-” Clint tried but you just growled at him and went back to your room. You couldn't believe it. You thought you and Natasha were happy, that you loved each other and were faithful. But somewhere along the way, she must have tired of you and someone else took your place. Anger overwhelmed you at that thought. How could she do that to you? And why didn't she tell you that she wasn't loving you anymore?

There was a small knock at your door, but you just shouted for them to go away. It was probably Clint with some shit-ass excuse and you didn't want to hear it. It was the ultimate betrayal. He knew that something was going on, but just like Nat, he choose to not tell you. Some friend he was... Tears were streaming down your face again and you collapsed onto your and Nat's shared bed. What did you do that everything went downhill? Were you just not enough anymore?

Self Doubt and guilt wracked you until the early morning sun shone into your room. You felt disgusting but you didn't care for one bit. There was another knock on your door different this time.

“Whoever it is, go away or I will break your fucking legs!” you shouted, but the door opened anyway. Natasha stood in the doorway, looking like a guilty puppy and soaking wet.

“Oh no, get your ass outta here. No wait, explain yourself first! Why would you do that to me? Why not just tell me that you don't love me anymore!” you sobbed and tried to get up, but your legs got tangled in the bedsheets.

“Y/n let me explain, please!” Natasha begged desperately and walked into the room.

“Explain what? That you are fucking cheating on me? I got that all by myself since Clint wasn't a part of your suspicious overnight mission!” you growled and gave up on getting on your feet.

“It's not like that! Please, just give me five minutes to explain myself, okay?”

You hated yourself for nodding, but you wanted answers more than anything.

“I'm not cheating on you babe, I love you too much to hurt you like this. This is all Clint's fault.” You scoffed at that. “Shit, I know this sounds horrible. Okay, listen, I was acting so weird because I was nervous. No, not nervous, terrified. Baby, I love you more than anything in this universe, never doubt that. I... I wanted to ask you something. But I didn't know how, because I've never done anything like that before. I had this big plan, that's why I was so distant because I was preparing. But then Clint had to go and lose the fucking ring I got for you-”

“Hang on. What ring? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, slight panic and confusion evident in your voice. It couldn't be, could it?

“Okay, then we are doing it this way... I want to ask you to marry me, y/n. But when I showed Clint the ring he just had to stumble and drown it in the river. That's why I told you I had an overnight mission, I wanted to go and find the ring.”

“Are you stupid?” you choked and Nat looked at you, jaw-dropping. “Excuse me?” she asked but you started giggling. Nat was such a fucking idiot.

“Are you telling me, that you went out of your way, to search for the lost ring, in the middle of the night, where it is dark as fucking hell out there?” you started cry laughing now. You were so relieved.

“Oh just great, you are laughing your ass off, while I stand here, soaking wet, mind you, opening my heart up to you,” Nat pouted but you finally managed to break free from the bedsheets. You collapsed into her arms, sniffling and hugging her tight, rubbing her arms.

“You are the biggest idiot on this planet love. But you are my idiot. I love you more than anything too, and since you lost your ring, maybe we could use the one that I bought for you,” you whispered and kissed Nat's nose...

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I am still taking prompts, so hit me up if you have something for me!

[aerois]

Remarried Empress: Sovieshu Contextualized and Navier the Unreliable Narrator (SPOILERS!)

So recently I started reading Remarried Empress on WEBTOON. Honestly the whole premise wasn’t my cup of tea and I was solely reading it because it was part of an event where I could get free coins (lol). But then... I got hooked. I got invested. Started drinking in chapters whenever and wherever I could, and even now I still crave more. I wanted Navier to have some semblance of a happy ending (and, let’s be honest, I wanted to drag that precious little bitch Trashta by her fucking hair across the yard). At first it was mostly that. Raging at Trashta and her Simperor, pondering at Heinley’s true intentions, drooling over Kaufman. 

And then, I noticed something odd. I noticed-- the strangest thing-- Sovieshu seemed to be... not as enamored with his mistress as meets the eye. And there was even some hinting that his feelings for Navier weren’t what we assumed.

I have to preface this: I don’t condone Sovieshu’s crappy actions. He’s an idiot, and acts very poorly as a husband. And there’s no excuse for cheating. Absolutely not! So I don’t want this post to come across like In Defense of Sovieshu, because it’s not. But I do think that our view, the reader’s view, of Sovieshu, is warped. And this is mainly because we see the story through Navier’s eyes of course, but we forget that every individual person is fallible. Every person, at some point, harbors false assumptions that color their concepts of truth and reality. Put shortly, Navier is human, and therefore is not a reliable narrator at some points. Especially concerning her husband. We see Sovieshu entirely through the eyes of his wronged wife in the webcomic. Pin that: in the webcomic. Did you know the webcomic is actually based on a mobile game? Yes, it is! And I downloaded it! And I’m playing it! And... I’m actually... hating Sovieshu less?????????? 

Ok, ok, put the pitchforks down! Hear me out! I’m not saying any of the stuff he did was okay! But Navier’s narration of the story paints him as this cold, detached man who grew to hate his wife so much that he flew into the arms of some hussy for warmth and then just cast his wife aside and deliberately acted like a jerk just because he wanted her to suffer.  And there’s a grain of truth to that. There are points where Sovieshu feels bitter and does or says something waspish. But it’s not as black and white as you might assume. I played the mobile game, and decided to take Sovieshu’s route out of spite. I opened this app, saw it was an otome with this garbage-fire, cheating sack of shit for a romance option and thought “Hah! The nerve. Probably some semi-abusive dirtbag route aimed to appeal to girls who like men who treat them badly. You know, that mutually abusive relationship appeal that some girls like because drama.” And I needed to rack up in-game currency anyway (it’s like usual mobile games, where when you wanna make cool choices you gotta cough up cash unless you “diamond-mine” on crappy stories to save up the meager bits of free currency the app gives you for playing) so I figured I’d blast through the Sovieshu route and skip onto my darling Kaufman in playthrough 2.

And then the smoke genuinely compelling character development got me. So I could run y’all through Navier’s version of the events, but you already know that. For Sovieshu though? Here’s the kicker: this idiot has had a raging passion for his wife slowly building up for years throughout their entire lives, and only realizes it about halfway through the events of the story. This idiot, this buffon, this absolute brain-dead dolt... didn’t even realize he was pining over his own wife until he was about to explode from the desperation from it all. God, I wish I was joking. Lemme break it down for you:

Sovieshu’s POV: He and Navier are introduced as kids and are told they’ll be married someday. Life partners. They are raised in tandem to respect and care for one another. Kinda smacks of grooming (go mom and dad!) but whatever, that’s the background. These kids are mentally regarding each other as spouses their entire conscious lives. And Sovieshu, as he grows, quickly comes to realize his intended is a selfless girl who holds everything inside. The first spark of his affection for her is wrapped in this: that Sovieshu longs for Navier to take off her “perfect princess” mask and let herself be vulnerable with him. He admires her intellingence, her grace, and her devotion to her country. He looks at her and sees someone that inspires him. He craves the opportunity to comfort and protect her. He waits, and these opportunities come in small instances. But they get older, their burdens get heavier, and like most young women, Navier gets better at pretending nothing is wrong with her and putting everyone else first. Sovieshu feels more distant from her. But that desire to break through her wall still stands.

They marry, but Navier, in her infinite wisdom, makes the assumption that this marriage is entirely political (despite...the fact... that they were raised together??? they were literally best friends their entire lives??? are y’all seeing how this could be confusing for him???) and that there are absolutely no feelings involved on Sovieshu’s side. Expect there’s that little problem. That little problem. Of Navier’s absolute inability to be vulnerable. And so she starts this marriage all Elsa-Conceal-Don’t-Feel convinced that her husband (whom she is secretly in love with, shocker) holds no warmth for her because she’s never received any from him. 

Now I’ll acknowledge that this is a two way street, where Sovieshu fails as well. Should Navier have made a mature decision and asked for love and support when she needed it? Yes. Should Sovieshu have offered anyway, despite not knowing that she wanted it at all? Yes. They’re both in the wrong here. They’re both too passive, too afraid.

So the first few years of their marriage pass by like this. And Navier kinda melts into more of a depressed state over it, while Sovieshu becomes frustrated. But he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t quite put his finger on the fact that HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE, GEE WHAT A SURPRISE BUDDY. And then... the little ingenue comes in. Trashta, with her crocodile tears, oversharing of emotions, co-dependent as all get-out. You see where I’m headed, right? It’s not just that she’s the opposite of Navier that gets Sovieshu hooked. It’s that she gives him that opportunity to unburden all this pent up romantic frustration. He can comfort, and protect, and wipe away the tears of a woman who loves him... And for a while, it’s intoxicating. That itch is finally being scratched.

Or so it seems. Because sooner or later, Sovieshu realizes that this woman is not his wife. And she’s a bit clingy, and clueless, and she’s... well, she’s not his wife. She’s not his wife. 

“Oh, dear God...” the idiot finally realizes. “I don’t want this hussy. I want my wife!” 

Ding ding ding! You did it! And it only took you--what? 20 years? After all this time, Sovieshu (and the audience playing his route) realizes. He’s not cheating because he’s bored, or because he hates his wife, or because he’s Inherently An Asshole And That’s What Assholes Do. He’s cheating because he’s using this woman as a stand-in for his wife. He’s been looking straight through this woman and seeking his wife the entire time. He’s cheating because he’s stupid and repressed and misguided and human. And again, that doesn’t excuse it. He still cheated, and that’s something he needs to spend a life-time making up for. It’s a mistake, and a big one. But it’s not fueled by a malicious hatred or a desire to hurt her. It’s fueled by confusion and fear. And, strangely enough, a desire to perform love for his wife.

So anyway, this stupid dweeb finally wakes up and realizes that no matter how much he plays around with the Town Skank, it doesn’t slate that thirst for the woman he’s spent his life growing to love. And that he actually, truly loves her to begin with. Now at this point, Navier was away travelling, doing queenly stuff. And he gets a message from a servant-- his wife is home. This boy books it. This man throws down what he’s doing, sprints across the imperial palace, to stumble at the feet of his wife; red-faced and breathless, absolutely undone. This man is screaming for his wife on the inside and now nothing he can do will quiet it. And his wife, ever the perfect pinnacle of a monarch, just raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him and wonders what’s got him in such a tizzy.

This is where the difference between the narratives hits especially hard. Navier has absolutely no clue that her husband is a hair-thin thread of self-control away from all of this just completely spilling out of him. She looks at him and sees a tormentor; someone who’s treating her like a used doll. And he sees this Goddess that’s been hiding in plain sigh the whole time. He sees his sins and repents before this, his wife, his almighty Goddess. But he doesn’t know what to do. She’s still been hurt by him, Trashta is still in their lives, and damn it all, he’s still frustrated. He still feels bitter and abandoned because even after everything, even after the years of marriage, his wife just seems so unaffected by him. This is where Navier’s “perfect queen” image that she tries so hard to curate really bites her in the ass.

These two dumbasses are hopelessly in love with each other but they’re deadlocked in an endless cycle of letting their prides get in the way. Navier doesn’t want to be vulnerable. Sovieshu doesn’t want to compromise, doesn’t know how to not lash out in anger when he’s really feeling sad. Unlike Navier, he can express emotions-- but not in a heathy way. So he says something mean, does something kinda shitty. And Navier thinks it’s because he delights in her suffering. So Sovieshu’s over here in his head like a cranky little child that’s mad at mommy because she’s on the phone, and Navier is over there in her head wondering why on earth her husband can’t notice a love that she’s never actually expressed to him. And it’s just terrible. But kind of hilarious. Mostly sad and terrible. But defintely hilarious.

To further illustrate this: even a lot of Sovieshu’s actions, for that matter, get warped by Navier’s unreliable narration. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! In the chapter where Trashta is stabbed, Sovieshu immediately screams for guards to surround Navier. So I’ll sum up their thought processes here.

Navier: Oh my God, I can’t believe this asshole. Calling the guards? He really fuckin thinks I did this?! Jerk! Asshole! He really thinks I’d arrange for a pregnant woman to be stabbed!! He’s probably deliberately framing me too, so he can get me out of the way and live happily ever after with her!

Sovieshu: OH MY GOD, MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE COULD GET STABBED NEXT SOMEONE HELP well actually maybe she had something to do with it? nah. prolly not. but even if she did idgaf I LOVE MY WIFE, I’LL COVER FOR YOU BABY I’LL FORGIVE WHATEVER. GUARDS, FIND WHO DID THE STABBING SO THEY DON’T STAB MY PERFECT WIFE NEXT

Like I wish I was joking, but that’s how it read. Anyway, I’m not done with the comic or the game yet. But Sovieshu’s motivations aren’t all as they seem. And while he’s not a perfect husband, he has the capacity to mature, let down his pride, and make steps toward atoning to his wife. I honestly and genuinely believe this marriage could be salvageable if they could come clean with each other. A lot of people want to root for Kaufman or Heinley, and I get it. Those two would probably treat her well. But the fact stands that these two are married, and surprisingly, they both actually still hold a spark of love for one another. If Sovieshu could genuinely repent, and demonstrate this to Navier, they would attain the happy marriage with each other that they both strive for. Anyway, I find myself surprisingly hooked on the story now that I see Sovieshu’s POV. He’s not a hero in this story by any means, but I’m somehow, against my better judgement, rooting for him. I’m rooting for him to make the right choices and repair his marriage. 

It’s a bold strategy, folks. Let’s see how it pays off.