#but I hate how they approached it like women who don't want to marry are shortsighted or stupid?

[llycaons]

I'm so tired of the 'well *condescending explaination* Susan, meme phrase. like I think it was a really useful format for certain topics related to like, wealthy white women's sense of privilege or being out of touch with other ppls experiences esp poc or poor ppl and thats a great usage of it, but more and more I see it applied to completely unrelated topics and it's just starting to sound unironically misogynistic

[cryptidcasanova]

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

[cynthiav06]

I can Almost imagine how Impressive you have to be To Pull THE percy Jackson. Like pulling any Demi-God is great but PERCY?!? The son of posiden?!? THE SAVIOR of Olympus?!?

I headcanon that Percy is really just out of Anyone's League And You gotta be Pretty damn Special to be able to Pull him

Like imagine Fumbling him or breaking his heart

THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Like come on Rick you are telling me Percy the greatest demigod of all time Jackson has to be paired up with someone who has nothing in common with him, frequently condescends him, literally forces her own views on him, hates his father, has a mother who tried to kill Percy, is controlling and toxically possessive of him and most importantly someone who has completely different life goals than him?? It doesn't even make sense when you look at it rationally.

I think Rick himself was trying to put Percy down in post Son of Neptune books by making his personality all about Annabeth.

We are talking about the Savior of Olympus, the bearer of Achilles Curse, the strongest demigod, the man who denied immortality from the King of Gods, Poseidon's favorite son, the only demigod to have been approached by other Pantheons first and well respected among their demigod equivalents, the only male demigod to have respect of Artemis, only one to be favored by so many Gods on the Olympian Council and that's only pre-Heroes of Olympus.

The Survivor of Tartarus, the demigod whose blood even Gaia wanted to wake to due to his power, the first and only Greek to be made a Praetor and now two times savior of Olympus. This is all without mentioning his singular and unique feats, and he has many.

AND THIS IS WHAT RICK DOES WITH HIS CHARACTER ARC????

Had Rick not been so obsessed with shoving Percabeth down our throats, he could have totally made Seafam Arc, and all our fics would have not been fics. We wouldn't even have needed headcanons for seafam cause Amphitrite and Triton and all of Atlantis would have absolutely loved him cause come on, it's Percy. It's impossible not to love him. So let's assume that's exactly what happened.

So the whole of Atlantis, Seafam, and most of the Olympian Gods love Percy and not to mention Sally and Paul, who are also very protective of Percy.

The new Lord of the Wild is his best friend, The Lieutenant of Artemis is his other best friend and cousin, both the children of Hades/Pluto are his best friends/cousins, the only other demigod to be blessed by Poseidon with a rare gift is also his very close friend not to mention other members of the Seven also respect him greatly and owe him quite a bit.

Hestia, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, Artemis,Hades, Hepheastus, and even Dionysus and River gods either openly favor him or have much respect for him. (Poseidon and the Seafam are implied, Bob and Damasen as well).

This isn't even taking into account all the pegasi and nymphs and sea creatures who love him and that he has a literal hell hound.

Percy not only has friends in high places and the favor of literal gods on top of being Poseidon's favorite son as told by Poseidon himself, all the people with special abilities are all close friends with him.

In Riordanverse, Percy is like the only person you don't want to cross like ever.

So you know logically if anyone needs an explanation as to why Annabeth isn't a good match for him and someone like Rachel would have fit much better. A mortal blessed with sight much like his Mother later turned Oracle of Delphi, the girl who saved his life in literally the very first two encounters they have, a girl under protection of Olympians and blessed by Apollo?

Apollo could have definitely waived the celibacy rule as there have been mentions of married women later becoming oracles in Greek mythology( May Castellan too if you count the books) and that the rule is only to prove devotion to the God nothing more. And if Apollo can't, then Delphi, who is a spirit older than Gods themselves, could just change allegiances. She once belonged to Poseidons' domain, so there's that.

But since I am biased in favor of Rachel, literally any other ship but Percabeth would have been logical and fitting and better off compatibility wise.

[owlwithanapple]

Eternal Engagement

An unexpected new life?

Y/N Kent, daughter of Superman Clark Kent and twin sister of Superboy Jonathan Kent. You thought you were born with innate powers and talents, but you haven't awakened any superhuman powers since birth. Not to mention flying, you don't even have the strength to break a piece of iron rod. Your mother Lois Lane once doubted whether you were incapable and born mortal?

Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne, Superman and Batman, Guardian and Dark Knight, are also the best of friends. Their relationship is complicated, characterized by mutual respect and protection for each other. The relationship between the two occasionally causes tension due to their different approaches to the arts heroism.

Being in harmony is a good thing, but unexpectedly...your father and Bruce Wayne made a marriage engagement for their children when they were young, that is, you and Damian Wayne. Until you were an adult and just turned 20, you learned the truth of this matter. Your first reaction was of course anger. Don’t know how many arguments you had with your father, but in the end, it ended in failure.

Metropolis, a certain cafe -

As usual, you spent your time at work, a black luxurious car stopped at the main entrance. An ominous premonition came up, a familiar figure walked out of the car. The man in a black suit, he opened the door and walked in, stealing the attention of many women. When his emerald eyes met yours, you suddenly realized who he was, Damian Wayne.

You avoided his gaze and walked behind the counter, facing away from him, silently wiping the cup with a piece of cloth. At the same time, an enthusiastic female colleague came forward to take his order. He raised his index finger pointed at your back, revealing a hint of arrogance and a demanding attitude in his tone, "Black coffee, I want Kent to make it."

"Huh? Oh...Kent, are you available now?" Your colleague approached and asked.

You stopped the work in your hands and nodded helplessly. You used the coffee machine to brew, the aroma of the rich coffee came out, and every drop of coffee dripped into the mug. You brought the brewed coffee to him, his emerald eyes slowly moved from your face to hands and then to the cup of coffee.

"Sir, your black coffee, please enjoy it." You nodded and returned to your post.

"It's Damian, your fiancé's name." He answered after sipping his coffee.

You were helpless and annoyed, wondering why your father wanted you to marry this arrogant and ruthless man, even uncle Bruce agreed. Really don't understand what they’re thinking. You put down the tray, "I don't want to hear the word fiancé."

"Facts are facts after all. Kent, who has no talent." His tone was biased.

You put your hands on hips and retorted to him, "Gene mutation, there's nothing can do about it."

You always felt inferior because no talent, it hurts your scars exposed by him. After the quarrel, you feel relieved and continue to work. His eyes locked on you, and you avoid him several times and continue to ignore him. He taps the counter with finger to attract your attention, as if he is ordering you.

You approach him and ask nicely, "Sir, what else would you like to order?"

"Where's the engagement ring?" He takes a sip of coffee and glances at you, focusing on your finger.

This question makes you feel very embarrassed. Last month, your father suddenly brought a black exquisite ring box from Gotham, which contained an engagement ring. You dare not wear it at all, "It will affect my work and hinder me."

"Terrible excuse." His tone was arrogant. He finished the remaining coffee. Before leaving, he took out a few bills and put them next to the cup. You were surprised that the hand he stretched out was wearing your engagement ring.

You were silent, hating this inexplicable feeling. It's not a relationship between lovers, which makes you feel very heavy. He and your brother are partners, the Super Sons are the duo of Damian Wayne, the Robin, and Jonathan Kent, the Superboy. But you are just a superfluous Kent, with no talent, no strength, and no ability to help others, proving that you are a mortal.

"Fuck..." You clenched your fists and gritted teeth.

Kent Farm, Smallville —

You went home, and held the doorknob still struggled with heart. You smelled the aroma of food coming from the house, almost dinner time. You adjusted your emotions , opened the door and stepped into the house, you sat in the entrance and untied your shoelaces. You were shrouded by a shadow, and you turned around and saw that it was Damian.

"You... why are you here? Didn't you go back to Gotham City?" You stood up immediately in surprise, you thought he only came to your workplace, but he even came to visit your home.

"Little princess, welcome home. Damian is staying at our house tonight, he will sleep in Jon’s room." Lois smiled and poked her head out of the kitchen.

"Huh?! This guy sleeps in Jon's room?! Jon's bed is very hard!" You told Lois in confusion, but you heard your mother's happy laughter.

"Hahaha, indeed. Or do you want to sleep with your fiancé?" Your mother laughed after hearing your words and couldn't help but want to tease you.

Your mom's words made you feel extremely embarrassed. Even if you two are engaged, actually have no relationship. It's purely because of the relationship between the two families. You glared at Damian and walked past him to upstairs. "No way!!"

Damian watched you leave and sighed helplessly. Seeing that his figure did not seem as arrogant as usual, Lois took the initiative to step forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "My little princess is a little stubborn, but not bad."

"TT. The only shortcoming is that she has no superpowers." The cold response from Damian hit Lois's pain point. Lois took her hand back. Damian sat on the sofa and browsed his phone, his eyes occasionally peeking at the stairwell.

You turned on the desk lamp. You opened the drawer to take out a book but saw the ring box placed inside. Your mind was in a mess. Why is your life so unsatisfactory? You took out the ring box and opened it. Inside was an exquisite engagement ring with the words of eternal love of Y/N & Damian engraved on it.

"He doesn't know the size of my finger..." You put the ring on, but it unexpectedly fit the size of your finger. You were surprised. How did he know your size?

When you wanted to remove the ring, found that it was stuck and couldn't pull it off no matter how hard you tried. You carefully looked at the details, felt that it was so expensive. Wayne's family has money. The engagement rings were made by experts. You touched it lightly, thinking how valuable it is.

"Little princess! Come down for dinner!" You pulled out the ring with all your strength, but nothing happened until you heard Daddy's voice coming from downstairs, and Jon's laughter came too. The two of them finally finished saving the world.

You left the room and went downstairs, and saw Mommy and Daddy bringing food to the table. Jon and Damian were discussing what happened today, such as aliens invading the earth. You seemed out of place without a common topic.

You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Mommy noticed your emotions change, and what Damian just said made her care more about your feelings. She took the initiative to ask you, "Little princess, did your work go well today?"

You held the cup felt a little sad. You pretended to be strong and nodded, "Yes, I was so busy, almost forgot to get off work."

At this time, Daddy walked in. His super hearing heard your heartbeat and was very flustered. He realized your mood change, he first gave you a hug, patted your back gently and comforted you, "Little princess, what's wrong? Tell Daddy?"

"I... I'm fine. Just a little tired." You answered vaguely.

"Little princess, don't be like this. I'm worried. Don't suppress yourself." Daddy said after loosening the hug and holding your shoulders, his face full of worry.

"I'm really just tired." You left the kitchen and walked to the dining table to sit down. Lois and Clark looked at each other and guessed your thoughts.

"I'm telling you! Today, Superboy and Superman are teaming up together - puff!" Before Jon could finish his words, Damian threw a pillow on his face.

Jon was confused, Damian ignored him and walked to the dining table. He pulled out a chair and sat next to you. You avoided him, but his eyes stayed on you. He was surprised to notice your emotions and expression changes, and to notice that you were wearing the engagement ring.

"Why are you wearing a ring?" His tone was like an accusation.

As expected, he found out. You put your hand under the dining table awkwardly and trying pulled out the ring. "Just try it on. I didn't expect the size to be so perfect. Now I can't pull it out."

"Haha, your knowledge is really low. We were taught in elementary school that you can take it out by applying soap on hands. You not only have no talent, but also no knowledge." His tone was humiliating and sarcastic, as if he was accusing you.

At first Jon thought it was just a bickering, until he realized something was wrong, and immediately rushed forward to stop Damian's bad behavior. He held Damian's shoulders and said, "Hey, buddy, don't say that. She is a girl after all, and also your fiancée, be gentle."

"It's the truth, she knows it best. It's a pity that Superman's daughter has no superpowers. Ah, no, it's so pitiful." Suddenly you felt like the sky was falling. You couldn't refute his bad words. What he said was... the truth.

Everyone knows Damian's character. He is a proud and self-centered person. He always spits out some facts when he speaks. Mommy approached Damian and flicked his forehead with her index finger, leaving a red mark. "Damian Wayne, we agreed to marry our little princess to Wayne family because of trust, not to humiliate and belittle her. This is not what a future husband should do."

Daddy came forward and ruffled Damian's hair, with a smile and tenderness on his face. He once said that Damian's personality is exactly the same as Bruce's. He always speaks harshly, but still very gentle in his heart. "Damian, treat her well. When she is frustrated, you should encourage her instead of mocking her."

"She should thank me. If our two families were not good friends, who would want to get engaged to this untalented idiot." He emphasized made his words more unpleasant.

"Damian, you-" Just as Jon was irritated, you stood up from the dining chair.

Except for Damian's expression, which was equally annoying, everyone else was worried. You wanted to scold him but you didn't have any advantage over him. He was an experienced Robin. He struggled to this day with his own efforts and perseverance. He is a very brilliant person. But you have no talent at all, unlike Jon who is strong and reliable.

"I'm not hungry. I'm going back to my room." You walked away silently. Dad followed you but you stopped him. You wanted to stay quiet didn't want to hear any more sounds.

"Buddy, what are you doing? You know my sister-" After you left, Jon glared at Damian in front of Clark and Lois, his eyes glowing red as if he was going to shoot a laser at him.

At this time, you were in the bathroom. You applied soap to hands to wash them as Damian said. Just as he said, the ring was successfully taken out because of the moistness of the soap. You put the ring back in the box and closed the drawer, drew a cross pattern on the calendar to indicate that no signs of awakening.

"Maybe I have no hope..." You fell on the bed, looking at the ceiling and sighed silently.

Knock Knock—

There was a knock on the door, you got out and opened it. As soon as you saw Damian's face, you slammed the door and locked it, venting your anger on the door. Damian outside the door did not feel disgusted with your behavior. He knocked on the door again, but you did not respond and curled up in bed.

"I'll leave the food outside, don't starve." You heard his voice fade away, and out of curiosity, you opened the door to peek. He really brought dinner, you were stubborn and didn't want him to meddle in other people's business, which would give him the opportunity to feel superior. But in the end, you were defeated by hunger, you compromised and brought the food into the room to eat.

"Help—I can't swim—" Suddenly you heard a strange noise, like a cry for help. You thought it was an illusion, maybe someone downstairs was watching a TV series, until you heard "Superman—Anyone—save me—"

"Help?" you murmured.

You didn't even touch the food, pricked up your ears to listen carefully. The painful cry for help, the sound of water rising and falling in the waves circled intermittently. You ran downstairs in a panic and saw Daddy washing dishes in the kitchen and Mommy tidying up the dishes. Life was just like usual. Jon and Damian put on their hero suits and were discussing today's patrol work and adjusting the route.

"Um... Daddy, Jon. Did you hear a girl's cry for help?" Your voice trembled, but your question instantly attracted everyone's attention.

"Little princess, what did you just say?" Mommy asked with a puzzled look, and Daddy, who was standing behind her, noticed your abnormality and wanted to get closer to you.

"Help me—I can't breathe—" The cry for help came again.

"Again! I heard it again—" Just as you panicked and tried to prove that you were hallucinating, Jon and Dad heard it later than you. Two red lights flew out from in front of you with lightning speed, the impact of the wind made your hair messy as if you were hit by a tornado.

"Super hearing..." Damian murmured, he stood by and stared at you with his cold emerald eyes like a knife.

"Little princess, how long have you heard it?" Mommy put her arm around your shoulders and let you sit down.

"About... a few seconds ago. I thought it was a hallucination, so I didn't pay too much attention to it." You tidied up your messy hair and looked directly at your mommy to answer the question.

"Several seconds faster than Superman and Superboy, should we say they were stupid enough to ignore the cry for help or it was just a coincidence..." Damian deduced the result from your answer.

"Little princess!" Daddy's voice came, a gust of wind blew and messed up your hair again. Daddy rushed back home and appeared in front of you at the speed of lightning.

"Buddy! Someone almost died just now!" Jon rushed into the house and rushed towards Damian, muttering non-stop, so fast that his cloak blew on Damian's face.

"TT, shut up, you're making so much noise." Damian slapped Jon in the face impatiently and pushed him away, then approached you and Superman.

Daddy didn't even change out of Superman costume before he immediately knelt on one knee in front of you and held your shaking hands tightly, with a serious and shocked expression, "Little princess, what you just heard was not an illusion, someone really was drowning."

"So it's not an illusion... Wait, why can I hear it?!" You were shocked.

"Idiot, one of Superman's powers is super hearing. Maybe it's a coincidence, maybe the awakening period has come, after all, it's just a short reaction." Damian intervened between the two of you, his words were as harsh as usual.

"Little princess, try to concentrate and see if you can hear mommy's heartbeat." Daddy was a little nervous, his palms were sweating.

You nodded and tried it as he said, looking in the direction of your mommy, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. After waiting for several moments, you could only hear your own heartbeat and everyone's breathing. You opened eyes and looked at your daddy, sighing and shaking your head to indicate no, it was just a coincidence.

"I didn't hear any sound..." You muttered in frustration.

"Oh... But little princess, thanks to your reminder, Jon and I were able to save people in time. Thank you." He hugged you in his arms and stroked your head.

Damian stroked his chin gently, his eyes focused on you. For a moment he guessed that you were about to wake up, just like a caterpillar showing signs of growth. An idea came to him, he took out a piece of Kryptonite from his utility belt to do an experiment, but Jon quickly stood in front of him to stop him.

"What are you doing?! Using that thing to murder your fiancée?!" Jon panicked.

"It's an experiment. If she really has a part of superhuman genes, then this thing will definitely weaken her if it touches her." Damian said to Jon expressionlessly.

"That doesn't mean you have to use this-" Jon grabbed Damian's arm.

"Damian, try touching her with Kryptonite. I want to see what changes will happen to her body." Superman was worried but moved away from you.

"That's-" Before you could even finish your words, Damian put the Kryptonite on your arm, suddenly you felt a wave of weakness and anxiety. You were about to fall dizzy, Damian came forward to catch you.

"Sure enough, she is not an ordinary person, there is a superhuman part in her body." Damian muttered.

"Damian, she is temporarily in a coma, take her back to the room and let her rest. I will contact Bruce and then decide how to deal with this matter." You can't feel any strength in your body, as if you have been completely hollowed out, but you can hear the conversation between Daddy and Damian.

"Wait, Damian. You will take good care of her, right?" Mommy pointed at Damian's chest and angrily like warning him, because he was not gentle to you at all, even said something sarcastic to his own fiancée.

Damian ignored Lois's words, easily picked you up and went upstairs with his hands. Jon and Lois were worried and wanted to follow, but they were stopped by Clark. He shook his head to signal them not to worry and said, "Don't worry, let Damian take care of her. They will be husband and wife in the future, and the little princess' husband should take care of her."

"Hubby, you just heard what he said to your daughter—" Lois was dissatisfied.

"I know your concerns, but always protecting her is equivalent to alienating the distance between the two of them. Damian and little princess need each other, believe them." Clark put his hand on Lois's shoulder and comforted her gently.

Damian carefully put you on the bed, covered with a quilt, then pulled a chair to sit beside the bed. He took off the Robin mask, crossed his arms under chest and quietly stood by you. Thinking about the possibilities and changes that will happen next, he raised his head looked at the ceiling to deflate.

Buzz-buzz-buzz-Damian took out his phone and browsed the chat interface.

Dick: Hi~ are you getting along with your fiancée?

Damian: Something happened.

Jason: You abused her?

Tim: Didn’t Dick tell you to be gentle with her?

Damian: No, you guys should stop meddling in other people’s business.

Bruce: Clark contacted me just now, and I think I know what happened.

Dick: Damian didn’t abuse her, right?!

Damian: I’m not that shameless.

He logged off and closed the chat room, scratching his cheek. He stared at your sleeping face, quietly approaching your bedside to avoid waking you up, his index finger gently brushed your forehead, he leaned down and gently pressed a kiss on your forehead.

Lois was still worried even if Clark trusted Damian, she came to your room, quietly turned the doorknob and peeked in through the crack, she found out what Damian did to you, she was shocked but still chose to leave and let him take care of you.

READ IT ON AO3 owlwithanapple

Like and Repost to motivate me!

Tag : @chibiduck

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

[partycatty]

so johnny puts on a little bit of weight right (eating or drinking who knows) and he fuckin hates it. maybe not insecure but he’s not happy with how he looks, his abs aren’t defined and hard as rock anymore, he can GRAB his stomach.

so fem!reader isn’t having it and FUCKS HIM BLOWS HIM RIDES HIM all while grabbing at the flesh of his ass thighs stomach anywhere she can nab and praising him because thick men and women are HOT

love you 💙💙

IM SORRY IM NOT MAKING THIS SMUTTY BECAUSE I NEED FLUFF FOR ONCE IN MY GODDAMN LIFE BLUE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU NEED TO BE SPAYED /LH

johnny cage > pudge

warnings: insecure johnny *chewing on his pudge rn*

notes: guys im tweaking over johnny hardcore this time around thanks to my favorite enabler @spacepl4ant <3

[ masterlist ]

• johnny has been insecure as of late, pulling and squishing at his body with frustrated groans every time he dressed himself in the mirror. his jawline softened, chest puffed and stomach spilling out over his belt. he didn't want to admit just how far he let himself go, drinking on his off-days and spending more time on the couch instead of his at-home gym. it took a toll on his perfect physique.

• he didn't want to burden you with the realization, opting to ignore the change by wearing looser clothing or pulling away when your touches get too intimate. it put you off, leaving you confused and worried on why he's being so distant. was it something you did? something you didn't do?

• it wasn't that he was neglecting you or declining your touch, he just visibly tensed or conveniently turned away to your physical advances. he felt gross, he felt unlike himself, as if he was wearing the wrong skin and it made it crawl. johnny wondered if you would be disgusted or upset with his lack of attention to his body. baggy clothes were his go-to.

• johnny knew you didn't properly notice, instead assuming he was going through a wardrobe change and trying something new. but, upon checking his walk-in closet, you didn't notice any new clothes.

• the two of you were getting ready for a dinner date out, johnny opting for one of his larger button-ups and flowy pants. as he faced the mirror to don the shirt, your padding footsteps were down the hall and quickly approaching.

• he couldn't just slam the door on you, what an asshole he'd be, but he didn't want you seeing his bare stomach and the way the pudge poured over his belt buckle. johnny tried pulling the pants up further, but instead ended up looking like a fumbling idiot as you finally walked into the bedroom.

• you were already ready, always earlier than your husband - he was the diva, not you - and you leaned against the doorway, whistling at the side-view he provided.

• "hey there superstar," you coo, looking him up and down. johnny feels hot. "looking good, my love."

• "thanks, sugar," his voice is strained, upset as he fumbles with the belt. "i think my belt shrunk in the wash."

• you give him a funny look. "you're not throwing your belts in the washer, are you?"

• he whines, flopping his arms to the side and looking at the ceiling with a huff. "no, it's not fitting right. i think i've gained weight."

• "i know," you nod, walking over to him and hugging him from behind. "i don't care."

• "you don't?" his voice is gentler, softer. "i do."

• "why?"

• "because i don't look like johnny cage," he moans, tugging at his shirt. "i feel awful. i wasn't training, i drank, i've been just... lazy."

• you're quiet for a while before you open your mouth to reply. "i think you look like johnny cage," your voice has a concealed playfulness to it. "i mean, you're who i married, and you still have my favorite parts."

• "what's that then?" he frowns. "if not my muscles."

• you trail your hands around his body as you face him, tearing his gaze away from the mirror behind you. your eyes can't help but trail across his features with a warm smile, struggling to pick the first thing you could.

• "your nose," you begin, getting on tippy toes to kiss it. "i like the shape. strong, charming.

• "your eyes," you place fluttering kisses, just barely on his lashes. "warm, they're expressive and you have a cute puppy dog look."

• "your hair," you run your fingers through the silky locks, scratching with your nails ever so slightly against his scalp. "you take good care of it, it's soft and cute when you wake up in the morning."

• "alright, alright," he giggles, pushing you away by your hips. "i get it."

• you pout at him, crossing your arms. he chuckles and pulls away, stepping back. you point behind him, to the bed. he raises his hands in a surrendering motion and plops his butt onto the sheets.

• you're quick to climb onto him, kicking your shoes off and straddling his lap. johnny's hands instinctively fall to your outer thighs, supporting you as you sat on his own.

• "you're sweet to me," you continue, hands on his face, ever so slightly kneading at his cheeks. "you're handsome, you're charming, you know what you want and you strive to get it, you're creative, you're brave, i mean, nobody else could've done what you did back in sun do. you saved the timeline. i'm glad you did, or i wouldn't be here with you."

• "it wasn't just me that saved everything," he protests, but not entirely denying your reassurance. "we had ninjas, fire gods, monks-"

• "ah-" you put a finger to his lips, his eyes widen in surprise. "but you were there. you gave kenshi purpose, you had that stupid, stupid drone, you cheered everyone up, you looked out for others. only johnny cage did that."

• he grins lopsidedly, scanning your face in admiration. "you're such a sweetheart."

• "because you deserve it," you kiss the tip of his nose. "and for the record, you're cute with a little tummy."

[rowretro]

𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, manipulation(?), suggestive

♡synopsis: Sunghoon, a rich, handsome, perfect man in all ways.... Though he's an extremely dangerous demon. Women fall head over heels for the prince charming. All except one. A godess. Lee Y/n, the woman whom he only has eyes for. Rumour has it she's still a virgin, single, and has never been a relationship. It's quite shocking, the Lee Heeseung's stunning younger sister? never had a boyfriend?!, purely because any man who dares approach her ends up dead. Of course she has never hurt a single soul.... Yet why was she cursed without love?

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Sunghoon isn't one for love nor lust, sure he'd have thought about falling in love with a loyal woman many times before... but all the girls that cross his path fall purely for his looks. How could they not? His features, his build, everything about him is so perfect. Those bushy brows, perfectly sculptured face, his eyes shining with stars, pretty moles scattered across his smooth skin, and his lips oh so kissable, anyone who gets to marry such a prince charming must be the luckiest human alive.

For the first time in his life he decided to go to a pretty popular bar, he was accompanied by Jake, one of his closest friends who was known to be quite the party goer. The bar was known for the women, one woman specifically, they would say she's a stripper, but she wasn't exactly like the other strippers. More a belly dancer. But Sunghoon realized it was no lie, the way they described her beauty.

Her smooth, coloured skin, visible through the lacy, rose gold material of the stunning dress, her legs, and navel exposed through the slits, her fairly sharp jawline, followed by the doll-like appearance which was accentuated by her make up, the way she bats her lashes, and the many moles that painted her face. She was a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.

Sunghoon was mesmerized by the way her body moved. Nothing too provocative, if anything, more of an elegant dance, but something distracted him, the burning gazes of other men, something he hated entirely. She belonged to him now. The Demon of all demons, the soon to be king of the underworld, a man everyone must fear. Park Sunghoon has set his eyes on something he wants, and if anyone dares to even want it, they will die a brutal death.

That night Y/n walked home, hugging her jacket due to the cold. She shivered at the icy air biting at her exposed skin, specifically her face which has now gone numb. There were specs of blood splattered across her white trousers from a previous encounter... A rather shocking and scarring encouter one shld say.

It isnt a first time a man had come up to her with lustful intentions, but she always managed to escape, not a scratch evident on her body. However.... the man didnt even get the chance to touch her, his eyes ended up bleeding everso randomly, he floated mid air as his limbs shatterred, and his body burnt to the ground. Seeing something so violent, the woman ran, not letting a single noise leave her mouth.

Perhaps it's an evil spirit she may have escaped, or a ghost, like ones in some ghost movies where a motherly ghost would be there to protect her children, or any woman that looks in the face of danger. She wasn't one to take chances though. "Sis I think you're on something... either that or a demon was stalking you." Heeseung simply said as he heard her little horror story.

"Heeseung you don't understand- nothing touched him he just floated in the air and- it was like in stranger things season 4 when Vecna gets into peoples head- except only this time, they burn to ashes!" she simply said as Heeseung placed down his book, sliding up his glasses as a look of horror was evident on his face. "Heeseung?" "Park Sunghoon. He has eyes for you.... he probably cursed you...." he simply cut her off, and walked out coldly.

It was exactly what he said. Sunghoon walked around her in a circle, admiring every inch of her, as she stood there "Lift the curse?... why would I darling?... you were clearly made for me." He said, tilting his head as his fingers softly grazed the skin on her face, his lips leaning in to peck hers. There's no going back. The way his hands trailed up her curves, wrapping around her waist, as her body pressed against his.

He kissed her again, more passionately "You've no way out my darling.... once I want something..... I get it. no matter the cost... you fucking understand me?!" he asked through gritted teeth as he yanked her hair. she'd be stupid to disagree... after all she had no way out "I-I understand..." she managed to say as his grip loosened, his dark glare replaced with a soft, sweet smile.

She couldn't deny it, he's a stunner. Absolutely gorgeous, from head to toe, despite being so scary and psychotic, if she could just look past that she'd realize she hit jackpot. Y/n remained silent as Sunghoon ran his fingers through her silky, dark hair, twirling it at the end, she silently snuggled into his chest as he smirked. "That's right.... you should give in" he said with a smirk, snuggling her...

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A/N: Idk if y'all liked this, but feel free to suggest any yandere, fluff, or just crazy plots idm (no smut, but I may do slightly suggestive stories<3)

[vintagedebutante]

Power & Control

A JFK x Petite!Reader Fanfiction- 18+

Further Info: Smut, period-accurate views on virginity I guess, uh... rough sex

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: This is my first time writing smut in like, forever! I’d like to thank the ever-iconic @lancerlovesick for inspiring me to write again, I hope you all enjoy it! (Please be kind, I'm kinda rusty lmao)

All alone, you wrung your hands restlessly. You had received a call from one of the President's men instructing you to wait in the west sitting hall, part of the White House's residential area, for a face-to-face meeting with the President himself. Why on earth would the President want to see you alone? How bad of a job could you be doing as a lowly secretary where you required the attention of the country’s most powerful man? Puzzled, your eyes darted around the room.

The west sitting hall was both palatial and comfortable-- an austere half-moon-shaped window provided an elegant backdrop to the green and white floral couch and matching chairs, one of which you were anxiously curled up in.

Your train of thought was quickly derailed by the authoritative sound of a man’s footsteps approaching the room. Abruptly, you stood up and straightened your dress. Your heart clanged in your chest so ferociously you could have sworn you were about to faint.

John F. Kennedy, the President of the United States, stood before you in his expensive, well-tailored navy blue suit. He towered over you, making you feel even weaker in his presence. Though you had interacted with the President briefly many times during your few weeks as a secretary, you had never been alone together like this. Rather than giving you the reprimanding look you expected, he gazed at you rather... ravenously.

You hated to admit it, but you loved the way he looked at you. Though Kennedy was a married man, not to mention the President of the United States, you couldn't help but relish in his lustful gaze. The way his stormy blue-green eyes wandered as he looked down at your minuscule, delicate frame like you were his most prized possession sent you into a frenzy. Though you understood you were no more than one of John F. Kennedy's many sexual conquests, being in his presence like this made you feel like you were the only two people left on Earth. And then, oh God, he smirked and shot you a wink.

"You're a pretty little thing, you know that?" The President quipped in his charming Boston accent. "Now I've got you right where I want you."

"Oh! Uh, Mr. President, I... Mmh..."

Instinctively, a soft moan escaped your lips. You couldn't believe yourself, reduced to a giddy schoolgirl by such a powerful man. Your cheeks flushed. How embarrassing. Yet, the fluttering in your chest was undeniable-- you couldn't resist him. This must have been the famous "Kennedy charisma" you kept hearing about from the other secretaries. The President let out a low chuckle and swayed closer before placing a large, rough hand on your waist. The aroma of expensive cologne mixed with cigar smoke was intoxicating. God, you wanted him.

"Now how can I uh, get you out of that dress?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The other women you worked with used their familiarity with the President as a kind of status symbol. You were lucky if he knew your name. To be lusted after by John F. Kennedy was unlike anything you'd imagined. Like a marionette controlled by an unseen force, you turned around, reached for your zipper, and slinked free from your cotton shirtdress. It was at this moment that you noticed how wet you were, your white undergarments marked with a visible damp spot where your thighs met.

"Not so innocent, are we now? Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with uh, being a little excited."

You guessed you weren't the only one who noticed. A bright red blush crept across your cheeks. As if in a trance, you stripped yourself of your matching set of undergarments and stood coyly before the country's most powerful man. What had come over you? You weren't normally that kind of girl, yet, in this moment, you found yourself uncharacteristically eager to please.

You could tell the President was enjoying himself. You heard gossip around the office that Kennedy got a thrill out of using his power to get those close to him to do his bidding. Whether he was challenging diplomats to swimming contests or making a newly hired secretary drop to her knees, the President was well aware of his influence on others. You never imagined he would turn his attention to you, after all, the two of you really hadn't interacted outside of work. Perhaps he was attracted to your subservience— you were always quick to follow orders from higher-ups in a professional sense.

"God, you're perfect," Kennedy remarked as he ran his large, textured hands over your tiny naked body, pausing to play with your perky breasts. "Spin for me."

Slightly confused, you stepped back and gave the President a coquettish twirl.

"Atta girl," he smirked as he took your dainty, manicured hand and led you to the large, floral-patterned couch behind the coffee table. The President let out a pained groan as he sat, his lustful expression briefly changing to one of genuine discomfort before slowly settling into a seated position. You watched excitedly as Kennedy fiddled with his belt, exposing his large, erect member as his slacks and undergarments pooled at his ankles. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

The President gave his cock a few slow, indulgent strokes before impatiently gesturing for you to join him. He was a busy man, after all. Knowing Kennedy, he likely had something important to attend to following your tryst. You couldn't help but feel special as you clumsily climbed into the man's lap, facing him. God, he was handsome. You had never been this close to the President before-- you could finally get a proper look at his chiseled, masculine features, made all the more apparent by his ever-present suntan. You understood why nearly every woman you worked with swooned over him. To be completely at Kennedy's mercy like this was sublime.

"Have you uh, done this before?" Kennedy's breath was warm on your neck.

"M-hm," you responded sheepishly. You knew it was unbecoming of an unmarried girl your age, but you knew better than to lie about the time you spent at the local drive-in with a handsy boy or two back in high school.

"You dirty girl." The President began to draw slow circles on your aching clit with his thumb. Immediately, you felt a hot, fluttering sensation in your chest. You tried to hide the immense pleasure you were receiving from such a light touch- you didn't want to come across as too needy. Though, based on how quick you were to disrobe, perhaps that ship had already sailed. Before you had time to gather your thoughts, Kennedy plunged his index finger into your wet little pussy. A sharp, panicked moan escaped your lips. "Hush, you don't want the whole White House to hear you now, do you," he quipped, only half-joking. Though the thought of getting caught was titillating, you decided it would be in your best interest to obey. You ran your hands through his thick, perfect-looking chestnut hair as he roughly thrust his finger deeper inside, desperately grabbing fistfuls to keep yourself from making the mistake of being too loud once more.

Wasting no time, the President slipped his index finger out of you and began stroking his larger-than-average shaft indulgently in preparation. Though you were not a virgin, you still wondered how you would manage to fit the whole thing inside yourself. You were quite petite, and it had been a while, after all. Nervously, you adjusted your position so the tip of Kennedy's throbbing, fully erect cock was resting at your entrance. You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself. You locked eyes as he gently placed his hands on your waist.

"Now, are you going to be a good girl and keep quiet for me?"

"Yes, Mr. President," you whispered coyly.

The President grabbed you by the hips as he nearly slammed himself inside you, setting a feverish pace. Instinctively, you buried your face in his neck and let out a muffled gasp. It hurt at first, but the initial pain gave way to immense pleasure as your muscles relaxed. You bucked your hips up and down, desperately trying to match his rhythm.

"God, you're so tight, just how I like my girls," Kennedy whispered between grunts and curses. All you could muster in response was a soft, tortured whimper as you held onto him for dear life. The throbbing between your legs was excruciating.

Kennedy lowered his lips to your ear. You could nearly feel his teeth against your skin. "I could just hide you away and have you all to myself whenever I want. How does that sound?" You could only moan against his neck-- though the prospect of being one of the President's favorite playthings only made the pleasant sensation in the pit of your stomach grow.

"Oh, Mr. President..." Your breathing hastened as you gave in to the all-consuming wave of pleasure that overtook you. You had never experienced a climax so intense-- it was as if an earthquake raged within you, you couldn't help yourself from trembling as Kennedy continued thrusting roughly. "Atta girl," he whispered. His grip tightened on your hips as his pace increased, his low moans sounding more frustrated by the second.

"Oh, fuck," the President gasped, his head rolling back as he violently came inside you. You could feel his cock furiously throbbing within your walls as you both paused to catch your breath. You sat up straight as you watched him wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Same time next week, doll?" Kennedy asked breathlessly.

You stumblingly dismounted, your knees wobbling like jelly. You wondered how on Earth you would make it home after such an experience.

"Of course, Mr. President."

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 6/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Six of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,606 warnings: none soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve a/n: we're halfway there!!

The town green had been transformed. The outer perimeter was lined with booths. Some large, some small, all festooned with lights and tinsel and garland. There were handknit items, handmade decorations, homemade jams and jellies, jewelry, aprons, knickknacks, candies, as well as the treats from the bakery. In the center of the green was a stand selling cocoa, cider, and coffee, and the mayor and sheriff had put up a tent with heat for those who needed to get out of the cold air for a few moments. There was a bandstand, and as Natalie began setting out boxes of cookies and brownies she heard the twang of an acoustic guitar start to play. A few parents had come up with a scavenger hunt for kids, and each one that she saw was clutching a paper showing the items they had to find before they could return to the game booths and exchange it for a prize.

“No, no, the garland is crooked,” Franco insisted.

Ollie huffed with annoyance, stepping back from the booth. “No? It’s fine.”

“I spent all day Sunday doing garland at my girlfriend’s house, I know when it’s crooked. Look, I’ll show you.”

Natalie glanced up from arranging the pies. Franco was pulling out his phone and moved closer to Ollie, showing him something, photos of his garland hanging skills she assumed.

Ollie’s brow furrowed. “That’s your girlfriend’s house?”

Franco nodded. “Yes? But look at–”

“That’s my girlfriend’s house.”

The two began bickering, showing things on their phones to each other, and Natlie raised her eyebrows when they suddenly stopped. Not saying anything when they walked away, Ollie’s head bent low so he and Franco could continue talking, she shook her head and adjusted the display to her liking.

"Working hard?" a voice cooed.

Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to look at the three women who approached the booth. "Hi, Kaye. Tabitha. Kathy. What can I interest you in?"

"I suppose I'll take two dozen chocolate chip," Kathy said. "How are you liking working for your dad?"

"It's great." Natalie placed the two boxes in front of the woman and held her hand out for the money.

"I heard Pierre dumped you," Kaye said sweetly.

She sucked in a breath. "We ended the engagement, yes."

"Because you got fired?" Tabitha looked up from examining a pecan pie.

"Guess he didn't want to marry a deadbeat," Kathy said in a stage whisper.

"If you're not going to buy the brownies you're holding, please put them down," Natalie said, hating the brittleness that crept into her voice.

"Yeah, sure." Kathy shrugged and opened her wallet.

"This money is going to Mark, right?" Tabitha asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're unemployed." The woman shrugged.

"And that instantly makes me a thief?"

"Whoops, excuse me."

She panicked at the sight of Oscar, smiling and apologizing for bumping into Kaye. For some reason, she didn't want him to be around the three women. Kathy and Kaye were sisters, Tabitha their cousin, and the trio had deemed themselves better than everyone way back in elementary school. Natalie had always tried to be polite, but it had been apparent at Tabitha's twelfth birthday party that neither of them had ever liked her. When, feeling pretty for one of the first times in her adolescence, she had worn a white dress and Kaye had spilled chocolate ice cream down the back, then had gone around telling the other party guests that Natalie had had an accident. It had taken two years before the teasing and name-calling to fade away, and even now Natalie hated the word 'poop'. Then, when she had shyly started talking to one of the boys in high school that everyone thought was cute, Kathy had swooped in, and the next thing Natalie had known, Tyler and Kathy had been a couple, and then they had gone to college together, and then they had gotten married.

"Hey," Oscar greeted her, flashing that beautiful smile in her direction. Sidestepping around the women, he slipped into the booth and handed her a cup. "I got you some coffee."

"Thank you," she said, more grateful than the words could express.

"Already getting charity," Tabitha hissed under her breath.

"It's a cup of coffee," Oscar said. "Hardly charity."

"It's okay. Everyone feels sorry for Natalie." Kaye flicked a lock of dark hair over her shoulder. "Especially now that she's been fired and had to move back home."

"I know it's embarrassing, Nattie, but at least you had a home to come back to."

Next to her, she felt Oscar stiffen. Taking a sip of coffee to keep from snapping at the women, she closed her eyes at the taste of sugar and powdered creamer. He'd remembered. That touched her more than his presence did and she drew in a breath, opening her eyes to see three faces smirking at her.

"Having daddy take care of you is better than nothing," Kathy said.

"Wow," Oscar breathed. He cleared his throat. She heard him inhale, then he paused.

Tabitha snickered. "Good thing he never remarried."

"You know," Oscar began, and Natalie almost didn't recognize his voice. It was hard, cold, a contrast to the warmth of the arm that slid around her shoulders. "I think it's better to attempt something and fail, through no fault of your own, than it is to be a bitter bitch because you never had the fucking nerve to try."

Three pairs of eyes blinked in unison. Three smiles faded into thin lines. Then, from behind them, Natalie heard the sweetest sound.

"Nattie cookies!"

She loved that nickname now. Unfazed when Tabitha slapped some cash onto the counter and picked up a pie, she smiled when Max, Eve, and their kids approached. "Hey," she greeted, blinking back the unshed tears. "Are you guys having fun?"

Lucas's head didn't reach the top of the counter but, when she leaned, she could see him staring at the tower of cookies Franco had created. "Wow," he breathed, unknowingly echoing his uncle. "Cookies…"

"I've got a special one just for you," she said, taking another sip of coffee before handing the cup to Oscar. His eyes met hers and he tipped his head in question. Nodding, she mouthed thank-you before turning back to the customers. "And one for your sister."

"Cookie?" Lucas asked hopefully, jerking on his father's sleeve.

"We're getting cookies, I promise," Max said, lifting him up.

"Let me get it." Natalie ducked behind the counter, easily locating the two boxes she had set aside for Grace and Lucas. Checking which one was which, she popped up and held them out. "I hope you like gingerbread."

"Oh my god," Eve said, leaning to look at the one Grace accepted. "That looks just like the snowsuit you wore last weekend."

"Did you decorate these?" Max asked, wincing when Lucas squealed in his ear.

"Yeah."

"They're great," he said, grinning. "How much?"

She shook her head. "On the house."

"Come on. How much?" he asked.

"You're really insisting on paying for them," she sighed.

"He doesn't easily part with money," Oscar said. "Take it while you can."

"A dollar each," she finally said, rolling her eyes.

"That doesn't sound—" Max grunted when Eve elbowed him in the side. Reaching for his wallet, he sighed while pulling out two dollar bills.

Natalie accepted them, then handed one to Grace and one to Lucas. "I'm having a flash sale," she told them. "All cookies and brownies are a dollar a dozen."

"Shut up," Eve told her husband before he could argue.

Max rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll take twelve dozen."

"Sorry, the sale is open only to customers between the ages of…" Natalie leaned close to Oscar. "How old is Lucas?"

"Two."

"Grace?"

"Five."

"Thanks," she whispered. "The sale is open only to customers between the ages of two and six."

"Me two," Lucas said, grinning. "Cookies?"

"Sugar cookies?" she guessed, already reaching for a box. He nodded, eyes wide, and she handed them over. After a few seconds and a whisper from his father, he placed the dollar bill in her hand. "Thanks so much for coming, sir."

"I want brownies, please," Grace said, holding out her dollar.

"Excellent choice, ma'am, I can vouch for the deliciousness of this batch myself. Don't tell my boss, but I sneaked about ten to eat when he wasn't looking." Natalie reached for a paper bag and snapped it open, then placed the brownies inside. "Thank you so much, miss, Webber's Bakery always appreciates such wonderful customers."

Grace giggled while accepting the bag. "Thank you, Miss Natalie."

Natalie opened another bag and handed it to Max for Lucas's cookies. "Are you guys having fun?"

"It's great," Eve enthused, taking a sip from the cup she held. "I can't wait to ditch these guys so I can really buy some stuff."

Max looked slightly panicked. “What stuff?”

“Oh, a little of this. Little of that.” Eve practically beamed. “I have to get gifts for the girls at work.”

“The girls at… Honey, you work in an office of fifty people,” Max pointed out.

“It’s my last Christmas with them though, I need to do something.”

"She's got a point," Oscar conceded.

"I always do."

"Santa!" Grace shrieked. "Can we go see Santa?"

"Yeah, let's go," Max sighed, easing the box of cookies from Lucas's grip and slipping it into the bag. "See you later."

"I'm right behind you," Eve promised. She waited until her husband and kids had gotten a few feet away before looking at Natalie. "Do you have a chocolate pecan pie?"

"I think there's one left…" Natalie turned to look, but saw Oscar already moving to do so. "Is that your favorite?"

"No, I usually hate them, but right now I'm craving one so bad I could scream." Eve reached into her pocket for her wallet. "Oh, and a coconut one, too."

"Anything else?" Oscar asked.

"Um…" Eve looked over the offerings on the counter. "Three dozen snickerdoodles."

"Jeez, Eve," Oscar muttered.

"It's Christmas," she defended, handing money to Natalie. While Oscar bagged up her order, she looked at Natalie knowingly. "What happened with the three unwise bitches?"

"Oh, them," Natalie sighed, slipping the money into the cashbox. "It was nothing. Well, okay, they were being bitches. But Oscar shut them up right before you came over."

"What did he do?"

"He defended me," she said softly, glancing at him. Fighting the urge to sigh, she turned back to Eve and saw a knowing expression on the woman's face.

“That’s how Max sucked me in.”

"What do you mean?"

"At first you just think he's kinda cute… Maybe a little hot. A bit of a dork. But nice."

Natalie grinned. "Okay…"

"Then you start seeing he's a great guy. Around the same time he stands up for you or someone else and it hits you." Eve sighed and took a sip of her drink.

"What, exactly?"

"He's nice and hot and will definitely bang you like a screen door in a hurricane."

Natalie blinked. "Um…"

"And then the next thing you know, you're two months pregnant, getting married, and you're so ridiculously happy you make yourself sick."

She had no idea what to say to that. "Oh?"

"The sick part might have been the pregnancy." Eve shrugged and took another sip of her drink.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Oscar asked, handing over the bag.

"How hot my husband is."

"Mommy!"

"Gotta go. Thanks so much. See you later."

Natalie watched the family head off, a lump forming in her throat at the sight of Max and Eve's hands finding each other despite the two children. They fit right in with the community, she thought, looking on as they stopped to greet everyone.  Her gaze moved to other people passing. Smile after smile. And, from Mr. Kelly's booth, she could hear the jangling of bells.

"You alright?" Oscar asked gently, touching her arm.

She turned to him, smiling warmly. "I am now."

The rest of the evening went relatively smoothly. Ollie and Franco never came back, and when she told Oscar about what they’d discovered he rolled his eyes, then stuck around, helping her bag items and going on coffee runs. Then, when it slowed, he insisted she take a walk around the green and see what everyone else was selling.

Her first stop was the next booth for a cup of hot cocoa. Hearing familiar voices behind her, she turned to see Franco and Ollie returning, their bickering apparently forgotten now. They were laughing and relaxed. At least, until Oscar saw them and called out to them.

She couldn’t hear what he said, but she could see the boys’ faces as he spoke. Sipping her hot cocoa, she looked on as the two moved to enter the booth, her eyebrows raising when Oscar walked over to join her.

“Hot chocolate, no marshmallows,” he requested, paying the teenager behind the counter.

“What did you say to them?” Natalie asked, gesturing towards her booth.

Oscar glanced back, then flashed her a sheepish smile. “Told them to cut their bullshit and do the work they’re getting paid to do.”

At first you just think he's kinda cute… A bit of a dork. But nice.Then you start seeing he's a great guy. Around the same time he stands up for you or someone else and it hits you.

She did not want to imagine him banging her like a screen door. At all. She wasn’t ready to be a screen door. But she knew, deep down, that if either of them intitated it, he’d satisfy her in ways Pierre never had.

“Thank you,” she murmured, falling into step next to him.

“Sorry if I overstepped. But you’ve got enough to worry about without those two acting stupid.”

“No, it’s fine. I need to learn to stand up for myself, I know.” She paused, looking at a display of finely knitted baby hats. Selecting two for Maddie’s twins, she also grabbed a new scarf for her father.

Oscar slipped the bag from her grasp after she paid. “Maybe you do. But it’s okay for others to do it for you sometimes.”

“You sound just like Dad,” she laughed softly.

“High praise indeed,” Oscar quipped.

Arms loaded, Oscar jogged up the steps onto the front porch. He shifted most of the bags over so he could unlock and open the door, greeting Penny when she slipped out, tail wagging and giving an excited little whine.

"Hey, girl, let me get this stuff inside," he said when she whined again. Carrying the bags through to the kitchen, he dropped them on the counter. He could hear Penny's claws lightly clicking against the floor as she followed him, and finally turned to give her a proper greeting. "I was gone for an hour, did you miss me that much?"

Penny's mouth fell open, her tongue lolling out while he rubbed and stroked her slightly shaggy fur. Lifting her paws to his chest when he squatted down, she sniffed his face, giving his chin a lick.

"I missed you, too. And yes, I did stop by the bakery for a snack," he said, ruffling the fur behind her ears. "I got you some treats, okay?"

She whined and gave his chin another lick before he straightened up, then turned and left the kitchen. About to put away the groceries, he remembered he had left the front door open and sighed, following the dog. He called to her as he reached the door. When she whined he stepped out and saw the package next to the rocking chair. Penny pawed at it, gave it a sniff, then apparently decided it was uninteresting and went back inside. Oscar bent to pick up the box, reading the label while going back into the house.

He recognized the handwriting, and the overuse of packing tape. The plain brown box was stamped all over with blue and white snowflakes, his name and address filling the shipping label in the familiar calligraphic style. He knew in an instant what it was and carried it to the kitchen, making himself wait until the groceries had been put away and Penny had received a handful of treats before getting a box cutter to slice through the tape.

A Christmas card rested on top of a bed of blue and white tissue paper. He opened it, reading the message wishing him a warm and happy holiday and a prosperous new year. Brushing his thumb over the swooping, swirling signature, he breathed a small sigh, remembering when his name had been included. When he had spent weekends stuffing tissue paper into boxes and affixing labels while the house smelled of mint and sugar. Setting the card aside, he removed the tissue paper and located the tin nestled inside. The wintry scene printed on the lid matched the blue and white. There were four smaller tins, each labeled, and he left them in the box to give to Max, Eve, and the kids when they came back to town.

He had barely pried off the lid but could already smell the contents. Peppermint and chocolate. Helping himself to one of the squares of white chocolate fudge, he popped it into his mouth, already reaching for his phone to call and thank her. She would be just leaving work, probably stopping to pick up dinner, and it wasn't until he had found her name in his phone that he remembered she wasn't coming home to him.

The fudge tasted bittersweet but he knew it was regret. Snapping the lid back onto the tin, he left it on the table and ignored the longing to hear her voice. They were still friends, yes, and probably always would be, but he had no rights to call her as much as he still did. She had a new life. With Charles, a great guy who loved her the way she deserved.

Groaning, he called her, part of him hoping she would let it go to voicemail so he could leave a quick message thanking her for the fudge and peppermint bark and the truffles. But of course she answered, her voice ringing with happiness.

"I knew you'd call! I saw online the package was delivered." Lauren chuckled. "Couldn't wait 'til Christmas, could you?"

"I never could," he reminded her with a grin. He thanked her, making sure to add another thanks for the treats she'd sent for Max’s family. "I'll make them wait until Christmas."

"How is the house coming along?"

"Pretty much done. The furniture has all been delivered and I've got to get the decorations up and put together some things." He looked at the cartons stacked in the living room and knew he needed to get to work. "How are you doing?"

"I'm great. Charles and I are going to see The Nutcracker tonight, so I'm at the salon getting my hair done."

"I won't keep you. I just wanted to say thanks."

"I'll always send you my Christmas candy, Oscar."

"I know." He felt it again, that bittersweet sensation, and swallowed hard. "Have a great time at the show."

"I'm sure I will." She paused. "Are you doing okay?"

"Just a few holiday blues," he admitted. "Wondering what I'll be doing next."

"You'll find something, Oscar. You always do."

"I know, I just…"

"Hoping the bakery girl will be involved?"

"How did you—"

"Max came to the bank the other day."

Of course he had. And of course he had told her about Natalie. "It's a little complicated, but I wouldn't say I'm having no luck. She's got a lot on her plate."

"Is there room on yours?" Lauren asked.

Oscar exhaled slowly. He didn't know how much Max had told her and had to remind himself that she was no longer his fiancée, that he didn't have to tell her everything. "I think so."

"It'll work out, Oscar."

"I hope so."

"It will. Stop being so moody. This isn't like you."

"I know, and I hate it. I'll pull myself out of it."

"If you need me—"

"I'll call," he promised. "Don't worry about me, Lauren."

"Tell the sun not to shine while you're at it."

He laughed, felt some of the melancholy ease. "Have you two set a date?"

"Charles  wanted to do October… Fall wedding at his family's place in the mountains. But…" She sighed. "We're looking at June now."

"You can have your fall wedding in the mountains."

"I don't want people to think I'm just doing a repeat."

"It's not a repeat."

"But people talk."

"Fuck people."

She laughed. "Are you sure you won't mind? You won't think it's weird?"

"Of course not. I mean, as long as it's not the same day and the same time and you wear the same dress," he teased.

"Hell, I might do the same bouquet and music, too," she laughed.

Once the laughter had stopped he sighed. "I'm really happy for you, Lauren. Do your fall wedding. Give a middle finger to anyone who tries to tell you it's being tacky. This is you and Charles, not you and me."

"You're right. I know. I'll talk to him tonight. Thanks, Oscar."

"You don't have to thank me for anything."

"Yes, I do – Just a minute!"

"Go get your hair done," he said.

"I have to thank you for a lot of things. And one day I'll get around to doing that. But right now… Thanks for being you."

"It's a hard job, but somebody's gotta do it."

"Will we see you before Christmas?"

"Probably not," he said. "I told Max the house would be ready for New Year's, but I'm working to get it done by Christmas."

"Ever the devoted friend. I hope we talk again before then, but if we don't, have a great Christmas, Oscar."

"You too, Lauren."

There was a brief pause, and the three little words hovered in the air. As they always did. He wondered if they would forever.

"Bye," she said softly, then ended the call.

He couldn't stay inside. He needed to get out, to breathe fresh air. He needed to see or talk to someone that he didn't have bittersweet feelings for. Someone that could pull him out of his head.

It wasn't until after he'd called Penny to him, after he had hooked the leash that she was still not a fan of to her collar, after he had guided her outside and shut the door, after he was halfway down the block, that he realized he could have just called Max. Or Eve. Or his mom. Or even Esteban.

Instead, he continued the walk, praising Penny when she stopped shaking her head to get the leash off. Praising her again when she stopped to pee. As they approached Natalie and Mark's house, she seemed to perk up, giving a little yip once they reached the edge of the drive. Chuckling, Oscar bent to unhook the leash, following as she ran across to the front porch and scratched at the front door. By the time he was climbing the steps to the porch the door was opening.

"Hey, you," Natalie greeted, squatting down to rub Penny. "Aren't you beautiful in your new sweater? Oscar got you the Christmas green one, huh? That's so festive!"

Grinning, Oscar watched Penny soak in the adoration. Natalie looked up at him, smiling, then turned her attention back to the dog.

"Come on in and see your Mark," she said, straightening. "Dad! Company!"

Oscar approached the door as Penny darted into the house, following the sound of Mark's voice. When the man's surprised laugh reached him, he grinned. "She's really his dog, you know. I'm just the nanny."

"Come in," she said, stepping back. "Close the door? I've got caramel on the stove."

Oscar stepped inside, breathing a soft sigh as he closed the door. Shrugging off his coat, he left it on the chair in the foyer and moved to the living room to see Penny standing by Mark's chair, her paws resting on his good knee. "Hey, Mark."

"Hey," he said, gently stroking Penny's head.

"How you feeling today?" he asked, stepping into the room. Seeing boxes and totes lined up in front of the couch, he lifted his eyebrows in confusion. Then, seeing a strand of lights stretched across the coffee table, he figured they were Christmas decorations.

"Better than the weekend." Mark peered behind Oscar to make sure his daughter wasn't coming into the room. "She won't let me work, though."

"Resting isn't a sin," Oscar said.

"I know. I just don't like everything falling on her." Mark stopped stroking Penny and sighed. "I'm going in tomorrow, though. I've got to get the fruitcakes ready for pickup."

"Who's working the shop now?"

"Franco and Ollie are doing mornings. She goes in first thing to get things started, then comes back here to take a nap and wait on me. Then she goes back after lunch and comes home for dinner. Last night she fell asleep untangling the light strands."

He wished he could offer to help out. He knew nothing about baking, though, and less about running a business. And he had more than enough work of his own to do, if he wanted to be able to surprise Max and Eve for Christmas. Thinking of all he had to do, he knew he should make it a quick visit and head back. But he stayed, watching Penny move to the armchair next to Mark's. She sat up in the seat, giving the air a few sniffs, then turned in three circles before curling up and settling in. When he heard her pleased sigh, he didn't have the heart to make her move.

"She's making caramel?" he asked.

"Doing turtles to take to the church pageant this weekend," Mark said with a nod.

"The pecan things?"

"Yep. I can't wait to steal one later." Sighing, Mark picked up his book. "Go see if you can get one for me now."

Chuckling, Oscar headed for the kitchen. He was greeted with the mouthwatering aroma of caramel and roasted pecans. Natalie was at the stove, steadily whisking the contents of a saucepan. On the counter was a long sheet of waxed paper, row after row of clustered pecans lined up like soldiers. He saw unwrapped bars of chocolate sitting in a bowl on the island counter, and helped himself to a few of the pecans in another bowl. "Are these the rejects?"

"The ones I haven't gotten to," she said with a smile. "What brings you buy?"

"Penny needed a walk." He peered into the pan and saw the beginnings of a boil. Stepping back, he leaned against the island. "Although really I think she just wanted to see Mark."

"Mark and Penny," she laughed. "I'm glad you bring her over to see him. She really perks him up."

"I told you, she's his dog. I'm just the nanny."

"Is he paying you?"

"Only in good company." He popped a salted pecan into his mouth. "And food."

"After his surgery…" She turned her attention to the pan, then reached for an open can. She slowly poured the contents into the pan, steadily whisking. "After his surgery, do you think you could bring her by? He's bad enough now with me making him stay home a few days, he's going to be in hell when he can't go to work for weeks."

"I—" Oscar popped the rest of the pecans in his mouth and chewed slowly, not wanting to tell her he wasn't sure he would still be in town then. But he thought of the little house he kept straying to when he and Penny took their long morning walks. He thought of Mr. Wright, who'd called him and told him he was lowering the asking price. He thought of his best friend living a five minute walk away, and being able to see the kids every day. He thought of dancing in the snow and the warmth of her smile. "I'd be happy to."

Her smile was so warm he was certain he felt his heart bubble like the caramel she was making.

"If you keep stealing them, I won't have any to take to church."

"I only stole two, the rest you said I could try."

"I didn't say you could try six."

"They're delicious, though, how could I only try one?"

"You're impossible," Natalie groaned, pulling the waxed paper towards her. "But I'm glad you like them."

Oscar grinned, popping a finished turtle off the paper. "I love them. Your recipe?"

"Mom's." She felt a glow rise inside her from his praise. "I added the sea salt, though."

"It's great. Are you taking anything else to the church thing?"

"I don't know. There's always so much food and it's all so good… I think we'll just stick to desserts." Grabbing the last of the candies, she placed them in the container and gasped when he reached to grab another. "Oscar!"

"Here," he said, holding it in front of her face. "The cook has to try it."

"I tasted all the elements."

"Not together."

Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward to take a bite. She nodded, chewing, tongue darting over her lips to catch the bit of caramel that had stretched between her mouth and his hand. Looking up at him, she swallowed quickly and smiled. "It is good."

"You didn't take the opportunity to say you knew it would be good?" He clicked his tongue in disappointment. He set the candy on the counter, gaze dipping. "You got a flake of salt…"

Before she could reach to brush it away, his finger brushed over her bottom lip. Her breath caught and she swallowed again, lips parting slightly as the tip of his finger traced her lip again. The scents of chocolate and caramel lingered on his finger and she could smell it. She breathed in and smelled him. Her heartbeat flurried, dizzy, and she gave in when the urge to move closer to him rose.

He was going to kiss her.

She was sure of it, even though he seemed to be moving in slow motion. His palm grazed her cheek, cupped it, and he released a low sigh that she unconsciously echoed. His tongue grazed his lips and she was struck by the longing to taste it on hers. She wanted him to kiss her.

Didn't she?

"Natalie?" he whispered.

She nodded, even though she wasn't quite sure what the question was. She finally moved her hands, raising them to grasp his biceps, marveling a little at how strong they felt as he continued his slow movement. She really wanted a kiss. It had been so long she was starved for the intimate touch, but more importantly she wanted his kiss. Because she instinctively knew it would be amazing.

"Can I get a taste of that candy, sweetie?" her father called from the living room.

Oscar groaned with regret, a soft laugh escaping when she muttered a curse.

"Sorry," she whispered, pulling away. Clearing her throat, she turned to get a plate to carry some of the candies to her father.

He sighed, smoothed a hand over his face, and said nothing while she loaded the plate with half a dozen of the turtles. She reached for the container lid, he reached for the plate. Then, sighing again, he set it down with a clink and reached for her. The container lid hit the counter with a clatter. Drawn into his embrace, she tipped her head back, catching the darkened hue of his eyes an instant before his lips met hers.

Decadent, like the caramel she had made. Rich, like the chocolate. The flavors of the candy melted between them and then she could taste only him. She could smell only him, that woodsy cologne that would have been overpowering on anyone else, even the detergent he used for his clothes. And lingering just beneath something else that she couldn't identify but could only sense. It reminded her of being wrapped in a warm towel fresh from the dryer but at the same time reminded her of sunshine. Of crisp sheets and laughter and dandelions dancing on a breeze.

She wanted him to never stop kissing her.

He was tender and sweet and made her weak. She held onto him, returning the kiss with all the longing that had built up since they had met.

"Natalie," he sighed at the corner of her mouth.

"Hmm?" She felt a little woozy, like she'd had too much wine. His arm was strong around her, and through her sweater she could feel his fingers digging into her side. "…What?"

"Your dad," he whispered after kissing her again.

She blinked slowly, struggling to figure out what he was talking about. Her dad? He was fine. He was in the living room with his book about the American Revolution. She had to take him candy, but he could wait just a few more minutes.

"What's taking so long – Oh." From the doorway came a knowing chuckle as she and Oscar pulled apart.

She tried to pretend that the feel of Oscar's fingers dragging along her arm didn't affect her. Biting her lip, which still tasted of him, she attempted to gather her scattered thoughts. "Dad, we—"

"Oh, I saw what you were doing. Better take it out of here, though, before you melt the chocolate."

[sammylbir]

Rewriting Teruteru Hanamura

Hey guys, today it's time for another rewrite post. That being about a certain chef.

That being Teruteru:

Teruteru Hanamura is probably one of the most disliked Danganronpa characters. I personally do like him as a character and want to improve him, so this post is for that. Keep in mind that those are just my ideas, so you don't have to agree with me. Okay? Let's do this.

Personality:

I'll tone his perverted behavior heavily down. Unlike in canon, this guy is a true gentleman and while he is very perverted still, he only keeps it for fun flirting and teasing. He is in general very friendly and approachable and also has a caring side, towards those he likes.

He is open about his interests in kinks, but he doesn't talk about that, during eating and when he is in the kitchen. Because in his mind, eating is supposed to be enjoyable and fun, with dirty jokes "not fitting to the menu".

His accent change, when he gets mad, remains too.

Appearance:

Okay, here I won't change too much. I'll adjust his height a bit and make him a bit taller and more plumb. Another thing I wanna add is that his belt is full of cooking supplies, like spatulas and whatnot and his hat is a bit bigger, which also stores some cooked meals.

How do they all fit into his hat? No clue. I am legally obligated, to not say anything about it/j

Past:

Teruteru had a diner with his mom and came from a poor background. The diner itself struggled at times, because of its remote location and the fact that the meals themselves aren't as "Flashy", as the ones in the big restaurants. Due to this, most critics who visit the place bash it and leave negative reviews.

Teruteru helped out in the diner as a kid, either to clean or to serve food himself. But his home life wasn't that happy either, because his father left the family, after Teruteru witnessed him in his bedroom cheating on his mom with another woman. He was 13 at the time and this even taught him, to treat women the right way. Adding to the fact that his dad was kind of a dick to his mom, he tried to become a gentleman of sorts, to not become like his dad. Like in canon, he has a few brothers, but those left with his dad, because he married a rich old woman for money. Something Teruteru can't forgive them for.

His perverted behavior and consumption of pornographic content, was due to him trying to cope with the divorce, because he did love his dad deep down and hated how mom had to do more work, because he wasn't there. Thanks to that, he also began to realise that he is attracted to men and women, a fact that bothered him for a long time. Until his mom found out and taught him that he didn't need to feel ashamed of how he felt.

Because he helped a lot in his mom's diner, so they can stay afloat, he did miss out on school mostly and his grades ranged from mediocre to atrocious, because he was busy with said work. Making his mom more worried about the future. Which is why Teruteru began to practice cooking more, to make sure that the diner can stay afloat and to possibly get more customers.

Koichi Kizakura, the scout at the time, discovered Teruteru when he went to dine there, after a long hard day of work. He then offered him that if he were to join HPA, then they'd finance his mom's diner. Of course, Teruteru accepted and willingly joined them, to make sure to become a better cook and so mom doesn't have to worry about his future.

Other Facts:

-Teruteru can cook most meals really well, except for omelette. For some reason, he seems to be struggling with making those and he tries to avoid making them, whenever he can.

-While he is open for most kinks, he draws the line with non-consensual stuff.

-Apart from cooking, he does like fashion trends and keeps up with them at all times.

-He sometimes tries to slip from gym class and math class, so he can work on his cooking skills. Keyword being: "Tries".

-He can speak a bit of italian and french, which he picked up from some of the customers.

And that's it. I hope ya liked this post and please like and reblog, if you appreciated my ideas for our dear chef. Till next time!

[nico-esoterica]

How To Deal With 'Fans' If You Have a Celeb SP 👀

You're in control of your reality, first and foremost. Your person also only wants you. That's it.

But should shit get to you one day, here's some reminders approached from a business-like and detached perspective:

They are lining your sp's pockets. That BTS-fandom rich emotional currency that creates the memes, fanfiction, sold out shows, and economic demand in real time is just making your person richer. Think about how they're gonna spend all of that on you. Fan devotion is excellent soil to plant your dreams in.

Anyone who seems really obsessed, even if they're a spiritual girlie who thinks they have a connection w/ them will not have them in your reality. But you need to be firm on that. No one is going to successfully 'manifest away' your person unless you think it's possible. You need to start thinking of yourself as their only choice.

Said fans are in love with a projection of them. It's their industry image that's palatable and carefully tweaked to appeal to specific demographics. This also may sound harsh but most of those fans will not think they can successfully or functionally be with them. They believe in social limitations and work with limits you've decided you don't have. You will be in the 'unrealistic' 1%. They will not.

Super locked-in and obsessed fans will eventually get bored and stop wanting your sp or won't as intensely. The real world's going to get more demanding, lifestyles and obsessions change, and they will inevitably focus on something or someone else. Gen Z's attention span is notoriously short and non-committal. Someone that seems like a fandom vet can stop updating their socials at random because of work, school, etc.

Even stalkers, saesangs, etc, inevitably get bored or have real life obligations. Putting that much energy into being a criminal, weirdo, etc will take a toll on their mental health sooner or later. From a safety pov when manifesting, imo, I like to think of them from a human view so I can minimize/prevent any harm they can do in my reality. Even if you're unmedicated and running on fumes, your obsession w/ a celeb will negatively impact your health, funds, relationships, and is not sustainable long-term. Therefore, I don't consider any creeps in my sp's life to be effective enough to cause harm of any kind. It's good to think of your relationship as a fortress they can't penetrate. They don't have the energy or disposable income like the girls used to bc of the global economy lmao. Just keep some safety affirmations on deck and you're fine.

Like I've said, their negative assumptions work to your advantage. That's why I said before that most creep behavior won't be seen positively by your sp w/ them bc they're terrified they'd hate them. They're insecure, don't think they have a chance with them, that they're out of their league, and all of these limiting ideas that industries concoct for money. All of this is working for you. That's a home-grown defense.

But you need to pair that with reminding yourself of how in love with and infatuated your sp is with you and no one else. This is why, imo, so many wives married to famous men wind up with infidelity. Despite being chosen, they still thought there'd be someone waiting in the wild to snatch their men up..and it'd inevitably happen. They had incredibly limiting beliefs about their men and assumed that because, 1, they're men, and 2, limitless access to women as an option meant they'd automatically go for it. So you need to get your boss bitch game up and start reveling in how amazing your person is and how they'd choose you over a million ig models or groupies. You need to think of yourself as the magical exception at all fucking times. You are a unicorn. Act like it!

IF YOU DON'T THINK YOU ARE THE EXCEPTION, YOUR CELEB SP WON'T EITHER!

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN 14 Bonus SS (Shosen / Horindo)

Series: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Source: Light novel volume 14, Bonus paper Store: Shosen / Horindo Synopsis: Alan's POV of Prince Mary's rescue in Chapter 1 of LN14. Translation: maboroshi-no

Translation below ⮟

I, Alan Stuart, was greatly troubled at the moment.

Today was the Sorcier Foundation Anniversary party and many foreign visitors had come for the occasion.

Because of this, the greetings queue was enormous and I was considerably exhausted by the end of it.

Even so, it was still nice while I was greeting people. Even if I was approached to some extent, there would still be a next person, so they would leave me for the time being.

The truly difficult part was after the greetings.

When the greetings ended and my family all split up, they came to me.

Foreign Noble Lady: Prince Alan, let's talk.

Foreign Noble Lady: Prince Alan, I am…

The ones who said this and snuggled up to me all at once were foreign noble ladies.

The foreign noble ladies were beautifully dressed up in their countries' dresses, and their eyes were full of confidence.

"I will make the prince mine". Strong women like them who gave off that kind of aura were hard for me to deal with.

Though, it was not like I hated strong women themselves. I had a fondness for very strong ones who worked hard towards their goals.

But women who snuggled up and appealed their charms to the other person even if they didn't want it were a no-go for me.

Even when I clearly gave off signals that their advances weren't welcome, they completely ignored me and still pushed on. I couldn't understand their nerve.

But in times like this, I had no ability to gracefully handle the situation and chase away the ladies.

"In times like this, if it were like always…".  When I unconsciously wandered my gaze, reddish brown hair caught my eyes and I stopped on it.

There, I saw my fiancée Mary Hunt, a marquis's daughter, happily engaged in a conversation.

Mary was my fiancée in name only and a reliable friend. At a time like this, she would always promptly save me.

I was well aware that I would normally need to shake a leg and somehow handle them myself but I was exhausted from the greetings, so I ended up asking her for help with my eyes.  

Our eyes met with a snap and Mary frowned. She was probably thinking, "What a bother".

I knew that much about her. Even so, Mary was good at looking after people, so she gallantly headed my way.

Mary: How do you do, Prince Alan?

Mary came in front of me and said this to me. Then, she turned her gaze to the ladies swarming around me.

Mary: Pleased to meet you, ladies. I am Prince Alan's fiancée, Mary Hunt.

After saying this and smiling, she made a very beautiful curtsy.

Mary was praised as the Belle of High Society and the Model Noble Lady. Her beauty and beautiful gestures made some noble ladies flinch, and they awkwardly greeted her and left. 

But there was a strong one in the lot.

Foreign Noble Lady: Oh, my. So you are his politically arranged fiancée. In my country, it is now considered good to fall in love and marry your true love. Don't you think so, Prince Alan?

After saying this, she gave Mary a provocative smile, then made eyes at me.

While thinking that she really was a no-go type and pondering how to reject her, 

Mary: Fufufu. Marrying your true love is indeed wonderful. 

Mary smiled and replied this.

Foreign Noble Lady: Oh, so Miss fiancée thinks so too. In that case…

As the noble lady happily smiled after receiving Mary's approval, Mary promptly moved next to me, entwined her arm around mine, and moved her body close.

Mary: Yes, and that's why we are not betrothed for political reasons but because we truly love each other. If you consider it wonderful, then I would ask you not to get in our way.

After Mary had said this with a wide smile and a pressure that wouldn't allow any objection, even the strong noble lady was agape and lost for words.

Mary seemed intent on acting like we were fiancés in love to chase away the noble ladies.

In times like this, I could only leave things to Mary. I emptied my mind so I could just follow her lead.

Foreign Noble Lady: What, but, according to the rumor…

With her face red, the obstinate noble lady tried to voice out some more words, but then, Mary moved her body even closer to mine. It completely was lovers' proximity at this point.

Then, while completely leaning against me, Mary made a bewitching smile.

I did my very best to keep my mind blank so I wouldn't think of the soft things pressing against my body.

Mary: Can I ask you not to get in our way?

When Mary asked this one more time, even the stubbornly remaining ones left red-faced.

Once we couldn't see the noble ladies anymore, Mary quickly pulled away from me.

Mary: You will owe me one more favor.

She puffed out her cheek a little and said this.

Alan: Sure. I'm sorry, it's always like this.

When I dejectedly apologized for my weak spirit, Mary let out a little sigh.

Mary: It would be troublesome if such a bunch came again, so I will stay with you for a while.

She said this. At the end of the day, Mary really was good at looking after people.

Alan: I'm in your debt.

I really was no match for her.

Little did I know that afterward, my older brother's fiancée Katarina would show up, reveal my embarrassing facts to Mary, and make an even more shocking proposal.

[kaifougere666]

Marianne's redemption arc, part one

.

.

First meeting after 784 years.

(The story is very long)

Also, huge TW on child abuse, suicide, sh, and other unpleasant topics, proceed carefully

Btw, this is inspired by a character AI plot I made with a Marianne bot I created, events happen after the ending of the story :>

(Marianne, a schizophrenic angel, was married to Morio Amos, an excentric demi god, who had for duty to travel through dimensions, they had a son, Ludovic.

700 years later, they had twins, Armonia and Toki.

The father, Morio, died when the twins were 3, leaving Marianne and her kids alone.

Marianne was an extremely bad mother, beating up her kids during her hallucinations, which got worse with her alcoholism. She almost killed Ludovic and Armonia quite a few times

After their father's death, Armonia took his nickname; Momo, and transitioned into a boy too.)

Momo looked more and more like his father, which angered Marianne, she didn't want him to end up like his father, killed by the assembly. So she beat the prodigy. But it didn't work. And now Marianne regrets everything. She traumatised her kids for nothing.

Although she has trouble feeling any kind of emotions, she still feels some sort of.. guilt. Which her tulpa/other half always reminds her.

And yet, even though Momo had it a bit worse, he still is the one who is most able to forgive. She knew that. She sent multiple apology letters to him. He never answered.

One day, Marianne and Momo met by accident.

Marianne tried approaching him, leaving the boy in a panic attack. She wanted to try to be a decent mother, and yet, she just failed again*

"I'm sorry Kiddo. Please.. uh.. breathe."

she said, not knowing how to react to his panic attack

Momo was hardly breathing correctly, terrified at the sight of his mother

"Please.. calm down.. I know you hate me. But I just don't want you to pass out."

she said, her voice was cold, she was unable to feel much emotions. She was unable to show the regret or even empathy

"Please.. kid. Calm down. Just.. just stop panicking, or you'll pass out..

-Why do you care crazy women !? You literally to kill me my whole childhood.."

her eyes darkened for a second

"I'm trying to fix things kid! And I'm going to try until I'm dead!"

she exclaimed

"I'm not giving up on you that easily. I've been a shitty mother, I have been. I'm sorry. Just.. calm down. For god's sake."

"You can't just.. magically solve everything like that... not after all of what you did.."

He coughs but tries to regulate his breathing

"Listen.. I know I can't solve this in a second Kiddo. But I'm trying to fix it. You don't even know.. how much I regret it every day. Every. Single. Day."

Marianne's eyes darkened once again, looking away, her expression almost looked tired. Probably wasn't used to care about people.

"Just.. stop looking at me like I'm going to kill you.."

-We can't change old habits that easily. You gave me ptsd and bpd and a lot of anxiety. I still make nightmares about you even 700 years something later.."

Marianne looked at him, her eyes softened, looking guilty even. Her eyes looked almost dull as she looked at him with a sort of sadness in her eyes

"I.. I know. I'm aware of that. And everytime you have nightmares.. I feel extremely guilty. I always do. And I'm not asking you to forgive me, because I know I don't deserve to be forgiven. I know that. I'm just.. I just want to.. At least try... To fix things.

-It's been 784 years old since we last saw each other.."

Momo looks away, making a worried smile

Marianne looked at him, surprised a little

"Seven hundred and eighty four years..? Jesus.. It didn't look like it's been so long.. time sure flies by fast.."

she said, her voice almost sounded tired and hollow. Maybe she looked a little older, like her eyes, those were definitely more tired

"Have you stopped drinking..?"

Marianne exhaled, looking a little defeated

"Yeah.. I stopped drinking. But it's been only three years.

-That's... Great! Even if its only been 3 years.. it's still an improvement.."

Marianne was a little surprised.

"You.. You think so..?

-Yeah! It's not easy to fight an addiction. I know of it. I started drinking at 11 because of you. I completely stopped drinking alcohol a year and a half ago. I never really liked alcohol to begin with."

Marianne looked a bit surprised and guilty

"You.. started drinking that young because of me..?"

she said, feeling guilty again. She wasn't expecting that. She should have been, but she didn't

"Yeah.. that's not the only bad habit I developed

-What other bad habit did you start with..?

-Self harm, I tried.. dying. Multiple times. And I have very bad anger issues and trouble handling my emotions.

I'm not that suicidal anymore though.

-Oh.. that's.. not good..

-Yeah. I'm also blind from my left eye from when you stabbed me by the way. I'm still mad at you for everything. Especially for what you did to my siblings."

Marianne froze, looking at him

"You're still mad at me and you have all the rights to be. I'm just..so sorry... I'm so damn sorry Kiddo.."

She looked away, not knowing how to handle all of this, nor how to react.

"Are you on medication for your schizophrenia ?"

Momo looked a bit serious

she looked a little surprised by the question, and nodded

"Uh- yeah actually.. yeah I started to take them a few years ago...

- that's good. There's stuff to help unstable folks like us now."

Marianne looked at him, looking a little lost. She was unable to form a decent conversation, she always struggled with it. She didn't know what to say

"Yeah.. I'm still a bad mother.. even on medication."

she mumbled, looking down

"That's right. I'm sorry I have to confirm but.. I'm just not ready to forgive you yet. Atleast not completely.

-I know... I know that you won't and.. that's fine.. I can't blame you.. I'm the one who ruined your life and your childhood.. I was a shitty mother"

she said, looking down, her voice sounded a mix of guilt and tiredness, although calm as usual.

"Lucifer, dad's old friend adopted me and my siblings when I was 14, the last time I saw you. He is an extremely good father."

Marianne looked at him, trying to recall the name, it sounded familiar

"Ah- Lucifer.. yeah I know him. He used to be a good friend of your father... He's a good man.."

she said, she looked like she regretted her past decisions even more

"Also. Dad didn't die."

Momo had a serious look on his face

Marianne looked absolutely stunned for a second. She couldn't believe what she just heard, her eyes widened

"What..?"

her voice was almost a whisper. Her eyes darkened again

"The assembly, they didn't kill dad.

They kept him away because he was deemed too powerful. Like most demi gods. I took him with me, he lost most of his magic. But we live a peaceful life now. Dad and Lucifer are on a relationship by the way. A poly relationship, with Lucifer's wife, Deborah, which was my mother figure most of my life.

I am very powerful, and the assembly warned me about that, I should be careful if I don't wanna end up like dad. But I don't use my magic all that much, besides for my duty. I took after dad by the way when I was 16, I'm a dimension traveller.

That might be a lot of info to take at a time."

Marianne stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to process the information. She was still a little surprised to hearing that it was all a lie. The assembly didn't kill him.. They took him away.. She was speechless

"You.. took him with you..?"

she asked, her eyes were slightly widened, she almost couldn't believe it, she looked like she froze for a second

"Yes, he lives with me now. We had a lot to catch up together"

she stayed quiet, looking down. She felt like a complete idiot, her eyes looked almost a mix of surprise and pain. She didn't know how to feel. After all these years, of thinking he was dead. She didn't know how she should feel.

"Is he.. is he happy..?"

she mumbled, her eyes darkened once again

"He is happy yes. He's a good dad, atleast he tries his best. He doesn't have a lot of authority haha."

Marianne stayed quiet, looking down. She looked extremely lost and guilty at the moment. She couldn’t believe it. She was extremely torn between feeling guilty or feeling happy that he was alive and happy

"That's.. that's good"

she mumbled, her voice was a little dull, she was still unable to express emotions fully.

[suckmyfatdee]

HOTD YAP BECAUSE I'M BORED!

Hate=Block, I only allow comments that are respectful about their own opinion and not ones that start frothing at their mouth for my opinion. If you can't handle criticism against your faves(at least against how the show wrote them), don't read.

As much as I believe the writers are far more biased to Rhaenyra, I do believe they fucked over both sides and while trying to make this some kind of Girlboss women empowerment show, they are making their women dumb. Genuinely. I've genuinely thought over everything and compared it to the books and now I'm just thinking "Wtf are you guys doing to our girls?"

And it's the people still believing the show is the absolute canon. Someone said "George was consulted that the show would be the canon of what actually happened, so that means it is the canon.".....Boy, no? Does George's blog post a few months ago not tell you that he didn't agree with the changes and if he's the creator of that world then it's his word against Condal's and Sara's.

Season one was good, I won't lie but even then they started fucking over the characters. I don't think they need to do everything strictly like the books, since obviously this book is supposed to be like a history book with many accounts where it's kinda left for you to interpret what happened or form an opinion of what happened.

But the changes just don't make sense at all or even drastic changes to make a character worse and then to claim that the changes are what actually happened. Just because the books didn't give us a direct account of what happened, doesn't mean that the writers can just change what they want. They've changed so much in ways that don't even make sense and it ways that won't even align to important/iconic events in the books.

The first and foremost thing you notice at the start of the show as a book reader is the ages. They wrote the ages so without even thinking much, events don't line up at all.

And I guess the relationship Rhaenyra had with Alicent was cute at the start, I genuinely loved it. It would have given more spice to their future animosity. But no, they choose the most unrealistic way to approach this, which shows me the show writers have no idea how to critically change their thinking to fit the theme of the world they are writing about. They are using modern thinking rather than the one that makes sense the most. And they also seem to either only view the full picture in black and white, or see colours in the picture that aren't there(adding things that don't make sense).

They made Alicent betray her whole family for a woman who LOGICALLY by their time actually would have to kill her sons, or whose husband would definitely kill her sons. Like come on! These women have been enemies longer than they have been friends, any love towards each other should have started to diminish the moment Rhaenyra had no sympathy for Aemond when he lost his eye and even demanded him tortured, and for Rhaenyra it should have gone the moment Alicent asked for Lucerys' eye. Like come on, they are MOTHERS! And I'm not saying that is all they are and their characters should be knocked down to only being a mother. But even in the books that's an important factor of their character.

And the show made the war so dumb to the point where it truly seems that Rhaenyra and Alicent should by all means be kept away from power. They have no critical thinking at all!

Rhaenyra ran from conflict when Jacaerys asked her if he was a bastard, instead of facing it and trying to further strengthen her claim by trying to at least help or prove her political savvy to the Small Council and Lords. Since the writers already change everything they could have made her stay. But no, she ran. AND GOES TO MARRY THE MAN WHO IS THE VERY REASON SHE WAS NAMED HEIR IN THE FIRST PLACE. THEY WANTED TO KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE THRONE! Then later, when Lucerys' claim to driftmark is challenged she once again, before even attempting to take care of the problem herself, by using logic or properly preparing Lucerys, she begs her bedridden father to make these people listen to her. And when she lost hope that he would, and had to push her son's claim herself, you could hear her start something about twenty years ago...meaning she was probably trying to tell them about how they bent the knee to her and called her heir...in a situation where that mattered only little? This wasn't about her claim, this was about her son's claim, and her son's claim wasn't questioned because she was a woman who was the heir to the iron throne but because people thought her son a bastard, and not a Velaryon which is why they didn't want someone who isn't Velaryon to inherit something from their bloodline. She isn't actually politically prepared AT ALL and obviously thinks that her father naming her heir and making the lords bend their knees to her once ONCE(without even asking their council and before three legitimate sons were born) is the panacea to any political problem she has. That is her not being prepared, and she unknowingly showcases her lack of preparation. Lucky for her, her father saves her ass and gets out of his near death bed to tell the lords to shut up about their problems in favour of Rhaenyra.

And Alicent! A woman who was the Queen Regent when her husband was too ill and kept the Realm at peace with her father, for years, suddenly knows nothing of politics? Please. She ruled in her husband's stead for what I assume is six years(the time after the Driftmark discourse when we obviously see Viserys is too weak), and even before that, after she declared 'war' at Rhaenyra's wedding, she also sat the council considering she was the Queen Consort. She was a part of the council that long, her father is an incredibly intelligent man and the hand of the King and she knows nothing now? Why did she lose her political savvy in season 2?

Why were they both dumb and let each other enter the other's 'territory' while their factions are at war and thousands of innocent are dying, because of the other's faction. Alicent could've had Rhaenyra killed, there were Guards! And when Alicent came to Rhaenyra she could've held Alicent hostage. Critical thinking ladies! I'm not saying that would have stopped the war but Rhaenyra was the reason they fought for and Alicent was the one that sat Aegon on the throne!

And why is Helaena as Queen Consort not doing shit? Before Jaehaerys' death, in the books she also participated the Small Council and actually engaged! And if she can relax at home and seemingly isn't in any way too affected that her son died, why is she being useless? AND I LOVE HELAENA! TRUST I DO! But this is ridiculous what they've done to my girl.

Baela is just Rhaenyra's cheerleader now and will lecture/sorta manipulate and gaslight anyone that doubts Rhaenyra or feels openly conflicted.

Rhaena....I'm just gonna be silent.

Rhaenys was okay, badass but not the smartest.

Like, they've done my women dirty. Don't start a war with me.

Anyways. End of yap.(Can you tell I'm a certified yapper?)

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.44 Get your girl

I pissed off rude girl, and that was fun. I saw an old man do a headstand, and that was amazing. To top off an already awesome day, not only did the old man join me for guided meditation but also so many sims wanted to join the class, I had to turn some away! I hated doing that, but it was such a good problem to have. Sims were finally recognizing the benefit of quieting their thoughts and practicing mindfulness, and I loved to see it. But as fate always had it, my good fortune ended. I had a room full of sims who paid me to teach them how to focus and quiet their minds, yet I could not focus. I tried everything, but I just could not get there. Something in my life must not have been in order. Meditation would have been the perfect time to figure it out, but I had a room full of sims waiting for my prompts to guide them. I never liked to half ass things, but I was unable to do my job so I reused the clouds prompt again to get me through class. When it was over, I went to the sauna to relax and figure out why I couldn't focus. At first, I thought maybe it was this business with Yasmine coming back to haunt me, but I had already squashed that. I combed over everything and still could not figure it out, so I stopped trying. Sometimes I stressed myself out trying to solve things when what I really needed to do was relax, so that was exactly what I did. I closed my eyes, leaned back, and emptied my mind. A while later, someone joined me in the sauna and then another, so I figured it was time to leave. As soon as I stood up, it hit me. I had unfinished business and left the spa immediately to make things right with Maira.

She answered the door with the blankest of expressions.

"Hey..." I said uncomfortably.

"What do you want, Luca?"

Ouch.

"Look...I'm sorry for popping up like this. I know it's late, but can we talk?"

She nodded, let me in, but stood at the door as if she were prepared to throw me out if I said the wrong thing.

"I feel like I upset you, and that was not my intention."

She gestured toward the couch, finally, and we sat. I was going to continue with my apology, but she interrupted me.

"When you said I was your friend... That night...the fire...I know you felt something. How could you not?"

So we were going there, huh? I tried to bury those feelings, but maybe I was ready to talk about it with her. I'd been confessing a lot of that deep, hidden stuff to myself lately. Maybe this won't be too hard.

"I did," I said. "But... Things have been really complicated for me...in that way."

"Complicated how?"

I took a deep breath.

"I like you, Maira. I do. But I..."

I felt things slowly going off the rails, and I hadn't even said anything yet, so I took a different approach, hoping things would flow better.

"You're beautiful..."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Me?"

It was my turn to be surprised.

"You're kidding, right?"

"What? I don't get too many compliments like that. Most guys I dealt with were fans of my ass."

I couldn't help it, but I let out a tiny chuckle. Maybe it was the way she said it.

"I, uhhh...I will admit to also being a fan, heh. But I'm not just talking about your face. You're beautiful inside, too. If someone were to hold a SimRay to my head and say I had to get married right away or I'd die, you would be one of the women at the top of my list."

"Aww! Really?"

"Yeah... I said it was complicated because I feel that way about you...and someone else, to be honest. But I'm still afraid to make a move. My parents have been divorced my whole life, basically. I didn't have many examples of healthy, thriving relationships growing up. I still don't. And even now, as an adult, I keep learning things about my parents that make me even less sure about if I'm cut out for this. I don't want to end up like them, so it's easier to keep everyone at a distance until I figure myself out. But that's gotten harder and harder to do the more I get to know you all. I don't want to mess up."

She sat there, still listening, so I went on.

"When I said you were my friend, I wasn't trying to say that's how I saw you and we had zero chance of anything else. I was simply stating you are my friend, and I would always be here for you."

She nodded slowly.

"I knew your parents were divorced, but I didn't know you were still being affected by it. I guess it all makes sense now."

"I'm sorry if it felt like I was leading you on, or whatever. That wasn't my intention. I've been thinking about things a lot lately and trying to remember my parents' problems had nothing to do with me and I don't have to do what they did. So I've decided to give dating a try. Heh, according to my Dad, you and I may have been doing that this whole time. I don't want to be scared anymore. But I also don't want anything serious right now. I do want to find someone I'd be willing to get serious with, so...yeah. I'm dating."

"That's very good to know," she said. "I kinda feel the same way. I wasn't upset because I thought we were going somewhere because I'm not looking for anything too serious right now, either. I was upset because I thought you friend zoned me, and it just made me think about all the other guys I'd dealt with. I thought you were different...someone I'd like to be with when I am ready. But in that moment, I thought you were just like everyone else, taking what they want and throwing me away when it was convenient for them. That upset me because I just want to meet a good guy for once. So...yeah...I'm sorry I thought you were a llama snot."

I hadn't heard llama snot since we were kids. It made me smile.

"I'm sorry you've met so many douche bags."

She shrugged.

"You win some, you lose some. Speaking of losing... If you like this other girl, I think you should go for it and forget about me."

My stomach rolled.

"What? No. I could never forget about you. You're one of my best friends!"

"I don't mean cut me out of your life. I just mean, if you're waffling between her and me, choose her."

A tiny part of me was relieved she had taken herself out of the proverbial race because, if it came down to Maira and Sophia, I honestly didn't know how I'd choose. But I still didn't want to lose her. True, we were just friends and could remain friends. But the part of me that wanted more than that was sad.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, Luca! I know you say you're scared, and you think you're not ready, but you are! And you want it! I can see it in your eyes and in the way you behave. Just be with her. You'll be fine. I'm nowhere near ready for what you want, and I'm sorry if I lead you to believe I am. My family... I love them, but they are driving me nuts right now. My parents just had another baby, and my sister is pregnant again. And top it all off, my brother just got married."

"Who married him?" I asked in disgust.

She laughed because she knew I couldn't stand that guy.

"Malia."

My eyes widened that time.

"Malia Gallardo?"

The girl I used to like who liked my sister instead of me?

"Yep! They're ummm...they're interesting together... But anyway, with all these babies and marriages going on, everyone's looking at me like 'well???' and tapping on their fictitious watches. I just don't want any of that. At least not now. Maybe never! I don't know right now. But what I do know is I'm going at this much slower than you are, and I don't want to hold you back. So...go get your girl. And before you ask, yes we're still friends, yes, I want to see you from time to time, and yes, when you're ready, I'd like to meet her."

I didn't know what to say or even what to feel. What did she see in me that told her I was ready for a serious relationship? I wanted to see it too. I should have felt liberated, but I was still a little scared. Of what? I didn't know. Fear of the unknown, probably. I suppose that was healthy. Still, I wasn't prompted to go home and call Sophia.

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Writing Share Tag

Thank you to @kaylinalexanderbooks for tagging me!

Rules: Post some writing.

Recently added more to the childhood flashback in Untitled Teen Romcom. I'll post what I've got here:

Miss Jackson found me by the coat pegs, which only added to my embarrassment…but it turned out alright in the end. Here’s how it went down. So, after what felt like an eternity of uncontrollable sobbing, I heard her approaching footsteps. I tried to compose myself, wiping the tears and snot from my face with my sleeve. But it was too late.

“Ezekiel? What's the matter?” she asked, her warm voice laced with concern as she crouched down beside me.

I just shook my head, too embarrassed to speak. Miss Jackson pulled me into a gentle hug, letting me cry into her shoulder for a few moments before pulling back.

“Did something happen during lunchtime?” she prodded gently.

I nodded, the humiliation washing over me again. “I...I asked Hope Kamani to marry me,” I choked out between sniffles. “I just wanted to tell her that I liked her. But she just laughed at me in front of everyone! They all laughed!”

Miss Jackson's eyes widened briefly before her expression softened. “Oh Ezekiel, I'm so sorry that happened to you. She shouldn't have reacted that way, but I promise it will get better.”

“No it won't!” I cried petulantly. “She hates me! She probably thinks I'm a stupid baby.”

“You are not stupid or a baby,” Miss Jackson said firmly. “You are one of the brightest, kindest boys I know. And if others like Hope can't see that, then that's their loss.”

Hearing this made me smile. I don’t know if her words fully convinced me, but they did touch my heart. I guess I just appreciated her trying to make me feel better. To this day, this comment from Miss Jackson stuck with me for this specific reason. I think people just like knowing that they are cared for and that they aren’t alone. 

After lunch was done, and everyone in our class started to head back inside, Sebastian caught up with me. 

"Zeke!” he called, rushing towards me. I noticed that his usual smile was replaced with a look of genuine concern.

I tried to smile back, although it probably wasn’t all that convincing (my eyes were still filling up with fresh tears, after all). “Hey, Seb.”

“There you are, mate. Are you okay?”

I shook my head dismally. Seb sighed, and put his arm around my shoulders as we headed away from my little hiding place at the coat pegs. Once settled on the reading rug, he grabbed a bucket of LEGOs, pouring a ton of the colourful plastic bricks on the floor in front of us. 

“Don't worry about Hope, Zeke,” he said definitively. “We're gonna spend the rest of the day building the sickest spaceships and you’re going to forget all about her!”

I snorted. “Who needs a wife when you have a LEGO spaceship?”

“Exactly! You get it.”

As we started constructing our LEGO creations, I slowly felt the sting of rejection and embarrassment start to dull. With Miss Jackson's reassurance and my best friend by my side, the afternoon didn't seem quite so bleak anymore. Maybe one day the whole fiasco would be something we could laugh about - but for now, I was content just trying to lose myself in the uncomplicated joys of childhood alongside Sebastian. Women would forever remain a mystery, but at least I had my LEGOs. And Seb.

I tried my best to push Hope and her hurtful laughter from my mind, and focus on my building. It worked for a while, but then we got interrupted by Eshe.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing over to us. “I've been looking everywhere for you two.”

Sebastian barely looked up from the impressive spaceship he was constructing. “We're right here, Eshe. As you can see.”

She rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. “Well duh, I can see that now. But I didn't know where you both ran off to after...you know.” Her eyes flickered over to me hesitantly.

My cheeks burned at the reminder of my humiliation. But then another awful thought slipped into my mind… I suddenly remembered with a sinking feeling that Eshe was one of Hope's closest friends. Of course, she was going to take her side and not mine. Of course! 

“What do you want, Eshe?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

She seemed to sense my hostility and raised her hands defensively. “Easy, tiger. I come in peace.” She plopped down gracefully beside us, sweeping her pigtails over her shoulder. I had to admit, despite her annoying bossy attitude, Eshe always looked impeccably put together thanks to her tireless efforts at reinventing her appearance. Today's ensemble featured our school’s summer uniform (a green and white chequered dress for the girls, if I recall correctly), a grey cardigan, pigtails adorned with bright pink bows, and her favourite shiny black mary janes. Classic Eshe.

“Look,” she began, turning her big brown eyes on me earnestly. “I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about what happened at lunch. With Hope, I mean.”

I shrugged one shoulder sulkily, keeping my eyes trained on the LEGO tower I was half-heartedly assembling (since I’m pretty sure I had given up on building a spaceship at this point. I wasn’t as good with LEGO as Seb was back then).

“Hope totally overreacted,” Eshe continued. “I prepped her all morning like you asked, making sure her hair looked perfect and everything.” 

“I never asked you to do that, Eshe,” I said, still refusing to look in her general direction. “Your job was to distract her so she didn’t find out about it. That’s all.”

“Whatever, Zeke. You have to understand, though, she's just...not great with feelings and emotional stuff,” she explained. “She handles it badly sometimes.”

“That's no excuse to be so mean!” I burst out, finally meeting Eshe's gaze fiercely. “What's so funny about what I said to her? Why did she have to laugh at me like that?”

Eshe patted my arm consolingly. “You're absolutely right, it wasn't funny at all. Hope was way out of line. I already told her off about it, and she does feel bad now. Give her a chance to apologise later, yeah?”

I highly doubted the great Hope Kamani would lower herself to apologise to a loser like me. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Sebastian cut me off.

“Just leave it, Eshe. Thanks for the apology, but Zeke doesn't need any more Hope crap today.”

He shot her a rare scathing look. I couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude toward my best friend for sticking up for me against one of Hope's formidable girl squad.

Eshe looked mildly taken aback by Sebastian's uncharacteristic sharpness, but recovered quickly with a resigned shrug. "Suit yourselves, I guess. I'll let Hope know you both need space."

With that, she rose gracefully and flounced off to the other side of the room, where the costume cupboard was (where Hope and her other friends always liked playing together. Eshe’s favourite costume there was the yellow Beauty and the Beast dress… she was a huge Belle fan growing up). It’s, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. Seb was the first to break it.

“Can you believe that one?” he muttered, shaking his head. “She acts like Hope's the queen and we should all be grateful for her laying down the law.”

I snorted derisively. “I know, right? That whole crew has gotten way too big for their boots if you ask me.”

Hope had an extensive entourage. Here was her inner circle during primary school:

Eshe Brown (duh)

Tanaka Okada - effortlessly cool Japanese girl who always looks like she'd just stepped out of a photo shoot (she doesn't go to our secondary school, but she and Hope are still friends and they hang out to this day. So I've seen her around, and she's also active on social media. And let me tell you - she hasn't changed a bit. Make of that what you will)

Layla Abbas - wealthy Lebanese chick whose family owned this online store where you could get these really nice, spacious backpacks (other stuff, too, but I mainly go there for the backpacks. Unlike Tanaka, Layla moved to the same secondary school as us, so I see her much more often. She too has a really trendy and really pricy taste in fashion, often rocking the latest designer clothes)

Indy Sandhu - probably the most uniquely stylish of the bunch with her edgy mix of vintage and modern looks (Jacob also had a huge crush on her in Year 4. Which I totally get! She's cool. I think I like her style most. She too is in our secondary school)

They all seemed to revolve around Hope, gobbling up her undivided attention and approval like it was oxygen. It was baffling to me how a group of girls who were all so cool and stylish in their own right seemed to defer to Hope as the shining example to emulate. Not that I could pretend to understand the mind of a female at this point. Most of the boys in our class steered well clear of that crew, content to steer clear of the dramas and complexities of the girl world. Let them do their thing, while we did ours. As long as Hope's clique kept their silliness contained, we were more than happy to leave them to it. Still, I couldn't resist a derisive snort as I pictured the five of them strutting around the playground, heads held high, strutting like they were on a catwalk. The unwavering confidence, the addiction to attention and obsession with their appearances, the mind-boggling ability to make even 5-year-old boys feel small and inadequate – it was all so bewildering and, frankly, exhausting. I couldn’t stand any of them.

“I don't get what the big deal is about that whole group,” I groused to Sebastian. “They just seem like a bunch of meanies to me.”

Seb considered this for a moment before responding. “I mean, you're not wrong, mate. But you also can't deny that Hope and her girl squad have, like...I dunno...an inexplicable cool factor going on.”

I pulled a face, not enjoying the reminder that even my best friend was somewhat in awe of Hope's powerful effect. He must have noticed my scepticism, because he was quick to continue.

“Don't get me wrong, Hope was way out of line at lunch. And you're probably right that the rest of them are just as bad. But you can't deny there's just something...magnetic about them? Like a group of really attractive baby swans that you can't tear your eyes away from, even though you know they'll probably bite your head off if you get too close to them.”

I rolled my eyes at the bizarre analogy, but I had to grudgingly admit there was a hint of truth to what he was saying. For whatever reason, Hope and her crew just seemed to command a certain gravity that drew others in helplessly, even when they were nasty pieces of work.

As I mulled this over, Miss Jackson reappeared carrying a stack of our favourite books. Sebastian and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement to shake off the matter of Hope and her lackeys for now. We could ponder the mystifying forces of femininity another time. For the rest of the afternoon, I allowed myself to become immersed in the simple worlds within those book pages, surrounded by the easy camaraderie of reading with my best friend and favourite teacher (at the time). If I couldn't quite rid my mind of Hope completely, at least I was able to stuff her into a tiny box and tuck her away in the recesses of my brain for now at least.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last too long. By the time my mum had come to take me home, I was all upset again. I don’t know what it was… Maybe it was because I knew I had to face her again the next day. Maybe it was because it had been a few hours since the rejection had happened, and the realisation of what had happened was starting to sink in. Maybe it was the fact that she got out of this situation all fine and dandy while here I was in complete and utter despair (my gosh, I was so dramatic back then). I mean, she’s still popular and beloved by everyone, while I went from being an awkward but well liked guy in our class to a total laughing stock. All because of her.

I was just silently stewing on all of this during the ride home. My poor mother must have been so worried… I mean, I’m never quiet in the car. Back then, I was rarely quiet period. Like I said before, 5-year-old Zeke did everything loudly. Unless I was mad, apparently.

“Hey, sweetie,” my mum said gently, breaking the silence as she started the car and started the journey home. “How was school today?”

I sighed heavily, unsure of how to respond. Should I tell her about what happened with Hope? Would she even understand, or would she just brush it off as childish drama as she so frequently did with my problems back then? 

“It was okay, Mummy,” I muttered finally, opting for a vague answer.

My mum glanced over at me, concern etched into her features. “You seem a bit down, Zeke. Is everything alright?”

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, darling.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Mummy.”

“So something did happen, then.”

Oops.

“No!”

“What’s going on, Zeke?” Mum asked. “Was somebody mean to you?”

I felt like crying again. I didn’t, though - all I said was, “I said that I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Honey, why not? You know you can tell Mummy anything.”

Not even the slightest bit true, not then or even now, but OK, Mum (look, I love my mum a lot, OK? Don’t get me wrong. But there are a vast list of things I would never even think of saying to her that I would say to other people. Parental relationships are different from friendships, and there are things I would share with my friends that I wouldn’t really want to share with family. And vice versa. But maybe that’s just me). I stayed mute for a while, chewing my trembling lip hard enough to draw blood as the cruel memory replayed on a torturous loop in my mind. For a moment, I almost wanted to say something. But at the very last second, I decided against it.

“I just want some peace and quiet right now, Mummy,” I eventually mumbled. “Can we just not talk until we get home?”

“Okay, sweetie,” my mum replied, her tone gentle but concerned. She reached over and squeezed my hand briefly before returning her focus to the road. For the rest of the drive, there was no more sound but the humming of the car as it moved through familiar roads and streets.

All the while, all I did was replay the whole thing in my mind. The sheer mortification of having my heartfelt proposal so utterly rejected by Hope in front of the entire class. Her mocking laughter slicing through me like shards of broken glass. The pain. The shame. The humiliation. All of it was stirring inside me, curdling into rage.

At that moment, with angry tears beginning to sting my eyes again, I decided that if she was going to be mean to me, then I'd be mean right back. See how she likes it. So I did the only thing a hurt 5-year-old kid could think of - I started a nasty rumour about her as payback.

Childish, I know. But in my defence, I was a child.

The next morning, I knew exactly what to do. I woke up with a sense of purpose for the first time in my entire life, probably. I was eager - nay, determined - to show Hope her place… but once I got into class, I could barely look at Hope without feeling that searing humiliation all over again. I tried my best to avoid her at first, sticking close to Sebastian and the other boys during morning drop-off.

“You alright, mate?” Seb asked, no doubt picking up on my sullen mood.

I shook my head mutely, not trusting myself to speak without my voice cracking. The hurt was still so fresh and raw. Which kind of made me mad… why are my stupid feelings getting in the way of my mission?

Jacob, ever the instigator, piped up. “What's wrong, Zeke? Still thinking about yesterday’s adventures with the wicked witch?”

A few of the other boys sniggered at his not-so-subtle nickname for Hope. I managed a small smile, grateful for Jake’s attempt at lightening the mood.

“It’s not fair that she gets to laugh at me and humiliate me like she did yesterday and get away with it,” I grumbled.

“Oh, you know what we should do?” Jacob piped up again. “Prank her! Let’s put a bucket of slime over the door for when she walks in," Jacob continued with a mischievous grin. "That'll teach her!”

We laughed at that one, too. Realistically, though, it wasn’t the best idea. I mean, what if someone else got soaked in the slime instead of her? I didn’t want to risk harming some innocent individual or getting myself in serious trouble. All I want is for Hope to be embarrassed.

“I have a better idea. You know what we’re going to do?”

“What?” Seb asked.

A devilish grin spread across my face. “We're going to spread a rumour that Hope doesn't shower!”

Silence for a second. Then, Jacob burst out laughing at me (damn, Jake. I thought we were friends, man). “Lame!” he cried out (I mean… I guess he wasn’t wrong).

Seb seemed conflicted on the matter. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate,” he muttered. 

“Sure it is!” I exclaimed. “She'll be stinky and gross and no one will want to play with her! It’s the perfect plan.”

“I mean, what good will that do?” Seb asked. “Hope is just a kid like us. And Eshe said that she felt bad about it, right? Seems kind of mean to me…”

I was having none of that today. “So?! She humiliated me and broke my heart! This is what she deserves.”

Seb sighed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Right. I’m glad you agree. So here’s the plan…”

I had mulled over this plan all of last evening. I had every detail down and I was prepared to share it with the boys. Once I was done, Sebastian still looked unsure, but the thought of retaliating against Hope's cruelty quickly won the rest of the bros over. By midday, the “Hope doesn't shower” rumour was spreading like wildfire through our reception class, thanks to me and the boys. Everything worked out perfectly.

It was perfect… at least, I thought it was. Anytime she walked by, I could hear the hushed giggles and whispers.

“Ew, you smell that?”

“It's probably just Hope again.”

“Gross! She seriously needs to start using soap…”

At first, I felt a rush of vindictive satisfaction watching her beloved popularity get torn down. This was the retribution she deserved after publicly humiliating me the way she did. 

But then I started to feel...weird about it. Like, a part of me felt kind of bad. Which was ridiculous - she had this coming, right? She broke my heart into a million pieces and laughed in my face. So why was I feeling even an ounce of regret about giving her a taste of her own medicine?

I tried to shake it off as I spotted Hope across the room, wearing a confused frown as a group of girls not-so-subtly pinched their noses and turned away from her. Instead of laughing at her misfortune like I thought I would, my stomach twisted uncomfortably.

This is what you wanted, isn't it Zeke? I scolded myself sternly. Don't go feeling sorry for the mean girl now!

But the guilt persisted, gnawing away at me. Until finally, I overheard an interaction that instantly made me feel better about the whole thing:

“Ugh, did someone like… not shower this morning?” Layla Abbas' imperious voice rang out loud and clear.

Hope's eyes widened in distress. “What?! No, I definitely showered, I’m super hygienic!”

“Are you sure?” Tanaka chimed in with a look of poorly concealed disgust. “Because no offence, but you kind of stink.”

“I don't stink! I shower every night before bed,” Hope insisted, her bottom lip trembling as a flush crept up her cheeks. “I even put on Mummy’s perfume and everything!"

The other girls all shared looks and shrugged, clearly not believing her protestations of cleanliness. With that, they got up and flounced off, leaving Hope behind looking utterly bewildered and embarrassed.

I couldn't help it - I let out a huge bark of laughter at the sight. Okay, this was definitely what she deserved! Any lingering feelings of regret instantly dissipated. Say what you want about Hope’s girl squad, but they have the most fire insults.

Take that, Hope! I thought triumphantly. See how it feels to be the one getting laughed at for once?

Of course, my loud laughter drew her attention immediately. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as they landed on me.

“EZEKIEL COLEMAN!” She marched right over, her little hands planted firmly on her hips. “Did you have something to do with this?”

I blinked innocently up at her. “With what?”

"Don't play dumb!" She snapped. “This is your doing, isn’t it? You're the one behind this stupid rumour about me not showering!”

I smirked, not even bothering to deny it at this point. “So what if I am? You had it coming after yesterday.”

Her eyes widened, seemingly stunned that I was admitting to it so brazenly. “I...I can't believe you!” She sputtered. “That's so mean!”

“Oh, you mean like how you laughed at and humiliated me in front of everyone yesterday?” I countered, getting to my feet so I could look her square in the eye. “What you did to me was way meaner!”

“Th-That's different!” Hope protested, though the words lacked conviction. I think she could see the holes in her logic.

“Whatever, Kamani,” I said with an eyeroll, turning away from her dismissively. “Deal with it. It's just a stupid rumour anyway.”

“You’re seriously doing this because you’re mad that I laughed at your stupid proposal?!”

“It wasn’t stupid, Hope,” I replied, voice cracking a bit despite my best efforts to sound all put together (Kamani had that effect on me back then. I’ve mostly grown out of that too, thank God). “I put a lot of thought and time into it, just to be laughed at and humiliated by you and everyone else in the class.”

“I thought you were messing around!” Hope protested. “I seriously thought you were trying to be like one of those bachelor guys on TV, acting all mushy and all. I thought you were playing, I didn’t think you were being for real!”

At that point, I was like, no way! You know about the bachelor shows on the telly too?! Maybe she watches with her mum as well. That’s something we have in common!

Just to be clear, I was thinking that... I didn't say any of that out loud.

But thinking about it now, it’s all so interesting to me how much I didn’t see back then that I do now. She laughed at me because she thought I was kidding. Huh. Assuming that this is all true, maybe Eshe was right about Hope genuinely feeling bad and not being good at handling emotional stuff… Either way, I had found a connection. Something to bridge the gap. I almost began to feel bad again. Almost. 

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now,” I simply said.

“Really?! That’s it?”

I shrugged. What did she want me to do? Apologise? I’m not THAT sorry. Plus, she didn’t apologise to me, so…

I could practically feel the waves of anger radiating off her. Her next words were practically a snarl: “You're going to be sorry for this, Ezekiel. I’m telling on you.”

With that, she stomped off in the direction of our teacher's desk, looking every bit the disgruntled five-year-old she was at that moment. I just laughed again, feeling utterly free of the guilt and conflict that had plagued me earlier. As far as I was concerned, Hope Kamani absolutely deserved everything she was getting. I didn't care if it made me look like the bad guy… she started it.

END OF EXCERPT.

This is even longer than the last one... sorry if that's annoying lol. I just really like the flashbacks. I like writing these characters as young children. It's cool to see how much they've grown in the present tense (as well as how much they haven't really changed at all lol).

Tagging: @ibuprofen-exe, @jay-avian, @mysticstarlightduck, @jay-avian, @winterandwords,

@space-writes, @bookish-karina, @clairelsonao3, @theeccentricraven and @sam-glade