#but we’re here. and my expectations my anxiety my fear. they don’t matter

[cherrysnax]

at the very least i know this is art block and I know it’s temporary and I know that I can ease my way through it

[redstarwriting]

shit happens

spider squad x platonic!reader

request?: yes

request: “Okokok, first of all CLASH WAS SOOOO GOOD OMGGI come bearing a request only if u want to. Teen!spider!reader who is Miguel’s favorite because they don’t cause him trouble. But it’s only because they get severely anxious when they break rules (I’m not projecting, you are). So he assigns them to go on a mission with the problem children hoping they’ll rub off on them, but the problem children just corrupt them. I just need more spider children being chaotic together and tired spiderdad MiguelMwah mwah love ur writing )pls only write this if u feel like it)”

requested by: anon​

word count: 2k

genre: platonic

Warnings: language, anxiety, Miguel being unrealistic with his expectations, electrocution, spider squad gettin thrown around

A/N: omg wait no bc same HAHA as someone with diagnosed severe generalized anxiety i get so anxious to break the rules even though my spirit always tells me to lol, i hope you enjoyed this anon! thank you for the request :)

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You were the golden child. There were quite a few teens in Spider Society, but you were by far Miguel’s favorite. And that’s all because you did what he said. Now did that mean you never questioned his authority? Of course not, you questioned him all the time. But you were too nervous to go against him. You were too nervous to go against anyone. It’s proven a problem in your job since the police are not your biggest fans, but luckily you befriended a nice police captain who eases your fears every now and again. Your weekly visits with Spider-Therapist have been helping with the problem, too. Which is great for you. But you still did what Miguel said. Mans could be scary.

And that’s how you ended up here. With Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales, and Pavitr Prabhakar. There was an anomaly that needed taken down in Hobie’s world, and Miguel stuck you with the four of them. To say you were nervous was an understatement. “Right, so anyone got a plan?” Hobie asks, in his thick accent. “What? What do you mean, dude, we’re in your world,” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “So? Not my villain, dunno ‘ow to stop ‘im.”

“Okay, well we know that he’s an electro variant, so… what can we do with that?” Gwen asks, and Pav sighs. “Be electrocuted,” he says sadly. “Miles can handle that,” Gwen says, and Miles snaps his head toward her. “Miles cannot handle that! Why are we saying Miles can be electrocuted?!” Miles yells, and the other three shush him. “’ow ‘bout you, mate, any ideas?” Hobie asks you, and you shrug. You look around before pointing up to the water towers on the roofs of the multiple buildings in New London. “Water,” you suggest, and they all look where you’re pointing. “Smart,” Gwen says with a nod. “How do we get the water to him, though?” Pav asks, looking at you again. You frown. “I… actually didn’t think that far.”

“Well, ‘at’s, easy. We just bust ‘em. Get ‘im to fly near one and,” Hobie makes an explosion noise and uses his hands to imitate an explosion. “What? But what about all the people who will lose water?” you ask, and Miles cocks his head to the side. “It’ll get fixed fast, probably. It’s our job to fuck shit up and then have other people fix it cause if we don’t fuck shit up, shit gets fucked anyways,” he says, and you sigh. “But Miguel said to try and not cause too much of an issue—”

“Oi. Who gives a flyin’ fuck what ‘e said. Not me. And this is my bloody world, I’ll cause as much damage as I want to,” Hobie says, and you look down. “Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta apologize for nothin’, mate,” Hobie says, and you mumble another ‘sorry.’ “You know what? I think Electro can wait a minute,” Hobie says, turning towards you, “More important matters to figure out ‘ere.”

“Like what?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks, and you gulp. “I-I’m not, I just—”

“You definitely are,” Gwen says, and Miles throws in a ‘yup!’ with a nod. “Is it us?” Pav asks, a hint of sadness in his voice. “W-What? No, that’s not it,” you say, waving your hands in a frantic way to say no. “I just am nervous in general. It really isn’t that big of a deal, guys, we should be focusing on—”

“Nope. You’re not gettin’ outta this, you been in ya ‘ead this ‘ole time.”

“I’m always in my head, it really isn’t that big of a deal—”

“Is ‘at why you try to avoid everyone? Don’t talk to no one?” Hobie asks, and you gulp. “I-I talk to some people…” you mumble, and a small frown forms on Gwen’s face. “The therapist in Spider Society doesn’t count,” she says, and you look down. “Well, why not…? He’s a person...”

“Because he’s like 40, and you’re our age,” Pav says, “you’d get along better with us, bro.”

“Miguel said that if anyone could make us not as ‘moronic’ it would be you, but I feel like he just kinda takes advantage of you instead of recognizing the pressure he puts on you. I have some experience with that,,” Miles says, and you sigh. “He scares me, okay? If I break the rules then I might simply pass away from him yelling at me,” you say, and Hobie shakes his head. “Love, the rules are all bollocks. Made by people who just wanna control your life.” Gwen nods. “Miguel is cool, sure, but if anyone can get away with anything… it’s you,” she says, and Miles chimes in. “And if you’re really that scared, remember he literally chased me around his world and destroyed a train because of me. You’ll never piss him off to that point.” You stay silent, playing with your fingers. Pav reaches out and grabs your hands. “Rules are meant to be broken, (Y/n), I learned that from Hobie. And besides, the villains we face are the biggest rule-breakers imaginable,” Pav assures, and you nod slightly. “And rules are such rubbish. ‘ey’re always different anywhere ya go. Try not to put so much weight on your mind ‘bout it, breakin’ ‘em ain’t a big deal,” Hobie says. You do actually kinda feel better. Hobie brings up a good point. Rules are different everywhere you go, so breaking one every now and again isn’t that big of an issue. In fact, it can be kind of encouraged. “Besides, breaking rules is almost like challenging ideologies, you know? Like, in breaking a rule, you challenge a system in place that is telling you not to break them. No one likes that. Where would we be if people didn’t break rules?” Gwen says. “That was deep,” Miles says, and Pav nods. “'at was a wicked way a’ puttin’ it, Gwendy.”

That’s a good point, actually. You think for a bit. If you look at it as challenging a system, or even doing what’s right, who’s to say it’s a rule that shouldn’t be broken? Hobie smiles underneath his mask because he knows they’ve gotten through to you. “So, whaddya say we go blow up some water tanks, eh?” Hobie stands, rubbing his hands together. “Okay,” you say. Gwen and Miles fist bump, and Pav does a little clap. The five of you jump into action, immediately starting to taunt and lure Electro to get him close to the towers so you can douse him and put him out.

The plan was going pretty well for the first two attempts, but he eventually catches on to what the five of you are doing. Which makes it harder. Miles does, in fact, get electrocuted. As does Gwen and Hobie, and coming in as no shock to anyone, Miles is definitely the least affected. You were able to dodge all of the attacks. “You’re doing great, (Y/n)! Mind telling me how the fuck your spidey sense is so strong?!” you hear Miles yell. “MILES LOOK OUT!” Gwen screams, but it’s too late. He gets electrocuted again. “Ouch, bro! That one looked like it hurt!” Pav yells, and Miles, who is now lying face down on a roof, raises his hand up in the air, flipping him off. You snort, and then see Hobie fly past you, landing on another water tower. “Hey! Dumbass! Over here!”

“Oh, please. You expect me to fall for that? I know what your little plan is, and I’m not about to be put out,” Electro says, firing some electricity out at Hobie. Unluckily for Hobie, it breaks the water tower and electrocutes him and the water that pours out of it.

You land next to Hobie, who is now just laying on the rooftop, but he grunts and mutters some British slang that you wouldn’t understand even if he explained it to you. So, you know he’s fine. “I have an idea,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But we need to make sure no one is on the street.”

“What’s the goody-goody plannin’ on doin’, huh?” he says, standing. “You’ll see, just make sure there are no civilians or anyone who will get hurt. And keep him distracted.” With that, you leap and go to another one of the water towers. You take a deep breath, thinking back to what Miguel said before the five of you left.

“Try not to destroy the city while you’re at it. (Y/n), I trust you’ll keep them all in line,” Miguel said, and you timidly nod. You’d love to not destroy the city, but it’s so hard doing that as a Spider-Person. But you also don’t want him to yell at you for going against his orders. Now you’re conflicted. “No promises, Miguel. We’re gonna do what we gotta do,” Miles says and Miguel sighs. “If anyone can reign the four of you in, it’s this one. Don’t let them pressure you into acting up, okay?”

You frown. Fuck that. Miguel is pressuring you into not doing your job right. You can’t always be perfect and careful. And lucky for you, the four of them were really good at distracting villains. You web two of the support legs, yanking them and breaking them off the water tower. It starts collapsing, but you catch it. “Shit, you’re heavy,” you grunt, but regain your balance, holding it on your shoulders. You twist your body, ripping the other supports off and making the water tower completely free. You get Electro in your sight and take a deep breath. You lift the water tower, tossing it up in the air before leaping out of the way and towards Electro. You shoot webs from both hands, connecting them to the water tower and yanking it towards you. You swing it around, connecting it with Electro’s body. Sure enough, it knocks him down and explodes on impact, drenching him. And you. And Hobie, Miles, Gwen, and Pav; but hey, you did it.

You land on a roof and look down. Sure enough, Electro is knocked out cold and completely out of electricity. You swing down, placing him in one of the technological cells that Miguel developed specifically for Electros, and nod. “That… probably could have gone better,” you mutter to yourself. Your self-deprecating thoughts were cut off immediately. “That was AWESOME, (Y/n),” Gwen says, giving you a thumbs up and hug. “Yeah, little Spider, that was bitchin’,” Hobie says, giving you a fist bump. “You made it look so easy! How did you do that, you have to teach me!” Pav says, clearly excited and impressed. “You were out here talking about how you didn’t wanna break rules so instead you broke an entire water tower? That’s cool, why don’t you try being less cool next time for the sake of us,” Miles says giving you a pat on the shoulder. You smile. “Thanks, guys.” Their praise was enough to make you feel better for completely and totally wreaking havoc.

But when the five of you return, soaking wet, Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I said… to not destroy the city…” he mutters, looking at you with disappointment. You look down. “City’s still standin’, mate. (Y/n) kicked ass,” Hobie says, and the other three make sounds of agreement. “Y-Yeah, Miguel. All I did was break one water tower, it’s not that big of a deal,” you say, and he sighs. “One? You all broke four water towers on four different buildings! And you flooded an entire street! You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Dude. I’m a teenager. Shit happens,” you say, a sudden burst of confidence from being around the group of four allowing you to speak out. Miguel puts his hand on his jaw, sliding his hand down. “Remind me to never team the five of you up again,” he mumbles, and Hobie elbows you. “Nah, we’re a band now. Sorry ‘bout it,” Hobie says, motioning everyone to leave Miguel’s sight. You all follow. When you’re out of Miguel’s office, Hobie bumps your shoulder. “See, that wasn’t all that bad, was it?”

He was right, it wasn’t that bad.

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[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 20: Choking

Pairing: ITZY Yeji  x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,582

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Going somewhere, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me.”

She’s a killer and a villain—those eyes strike daggers towards you to distance yourself away from her because if you don’t, then you’ll feel her wrath and you’re not going to like it. Stuck on an elevator, she seem repugnant about your demeanor, more so, your existence—you weren’t even lying onto that line but you guess that’s just how she judges you, and you’re in power to influence her with that as one word that comes out of your mouth is just drawing yourself closer to hell.

Of course, you love the risk and you’ll break it apart from her, no matter what happens.

“I don’t know why you are acting like this, Yeji?”

“And why the fuck are you even here?” Yeji retorts, laced with venom as her fierce eyes glared at you, making you pique your interest about her even more.

“I’ll attend a party, that’s why and you can’t stop me, Yeji.”

“I don’t fucking care—go on and just don’t be near me.” You can sense how she really despises you and it’s all going well according to plan—even though you know how she truly doesn’t like your presence, you can sense how it’s maybe a faux demeanor of hers and it’s a strong one. Maybe it’s just your way of clothing that she intensely disgusts because you caught her in the act—her eyes really lit up once she saw your body and you could only think of how she’s thirsty for you but of course, she needs to act tough because she’s always been like that.

“You know and probably, everybody knows in this company how I always like riding in elevators alone, unless it’s the specific people I want in and your stubborn brain probably didn’t know this, don’t you?” Yeji remarks and slaps you with what she’s entitled to and of course, you brush those off because the world doesn’t always go on her path, even luck not even lying on her side as always.

“I’m not stubborn and that’s not how it always works, Yeji—” Your choice of words infuriates her as she glares at you, her rage unable to be contained further as she lashes out how she’s so ungrateful to be in the same, compact space with her and god, you just want to shut that bratty mouth of hers.

“You shut the fuck up and listen—my dad is the C—E—fucking—O of this company and you wouldn’t dare to—oh!” The both of you yelp in response as the elevator thuds a little, knowing something’s off and that hint of anxiety kicking in because of the fear coursing down your veins.

“Fuck, we’re stuck in the elevator—oh no…”

“Yeah no shit, smarthead…” Yeji chides as the latter is filled with sarcasm, feeling uneasy as she doesn’t want to be late to the party upstairs and quickly contacts the emergency services but with an expected response, they wouldn’t meet Yeji’s complaints as you laugh because of her immediate panic and struggles.

“Twenty minutes? You’re joking, right? But please, can you just be quick cause’ I don’t want to die here because of suffocation! I’m telling this to my daddy!!”

You know that she’s over exaggerating and selfish, in all means because first of all: elevators are ventilated and you neither of you will suffocate because of this and second of all, she should’ve expected the slow service and just be patient, not acting like a goddamn brat just because of her connections and nepotism—god, you really hate her but you can’t lie, you find her incredibly hot and pretty that you just want to teach her a lesson that will sure make her a different person once you’re done with her but that would be settling on your imagination, for now.

“Stop over exaggerating Yeji, we will be fine here—”

“Shut up, loser! If it weren’t for you, this wouldn’t happen! You’re such a walking bad luck, argh, gosh!” Of course, Yeji would always respond like her anger is boiling through the roof and holding a deep grudge against you—you barely know each other and she’s acting like a psychotic freak who's always thinking for herself and you, will change that.

“You know your whining wouldn’t help anything, Yeji.” You feign a little concern over her, knowing that having a calm disposition and being completely composed would make both of your minds in a better state but because of her stubbornness and the unwilling act towards your suggestions, it will just put some salt onto the wound as she whines more because of you and how she detests you.

“Just shut the fuck up—-hah, god…” Yeji rests her head onto the metal walls, feeling defeated as being stuck in an elevator are one of the last few things she wants to see and she’s not really having it. You know with the complete silence of hers, marks something that there’s something unorthodox happening in her—you could catch her taking a glimpse of your body and maybe even your crotch but she wouldn’t mind even interacting seductively towards you and you don’t mind it because time will tell about each other’s fate.

Well, maybe the stars are aligning and something’s swerving inside her—she’s being unorthodox as something disturbing the force—

“Props to you though, you have a nice body…” Yeji catches you off-guard, averting her eyes towards you as she presents a coy demeanor with her faint smirks from time to time. You don’t know what got into her but you wouldn’t complain, and it’s drawing herself closer to your plan and you’re absolutely loving where this may go but of course, you need to fake your demeanor and won’t switch up easily.

“And what got into you, Yeji?”

“Oh, come on. I know I acted like a bitch earlier and I apologize for that—” Yeji inches closer towards you, her strong, floral scent nudging against your nose as you can feel the heat emanating from her, captivating you even more but you fight against that urge of yours, for now. “—won’t you wanna have some fun for now?”

She’s clearly alluring you towards something you’re probably oblivious of—of course, your clever mind isn’t nowhere near that, and you know where this will end as your cognizant mind will take this as a golden opportunity for your deepest desires.

“Is this the way you really want to kill time, Yeji?” There’s no frivolous disposition that can be seen on your face as you’re faking your disbelief against her suggestive propositions. 

“Then what other way can you think of, hm?” You shrug, clueless about what could be the answer of your own question as she proves her point even further. “See? Nothing.I mean, we’re going to be stuck here for a while so…” Yeji inches closer towards you, feeling her hot, minty breath brushing against your nose as she smiles at you like a vixen, seducing with her sultry tone and her dainty fingers tracing circles at your chest. “Shall we have some fun?”

As much as you want to deny her, Yeji herself exudes such exuberance and hotness that you can’t resist—mostly her calm yet enthusiastic approach made for your decision and her beauty is beyond exceptional on your own books and you would love to get that fun with her, or rather, in her.

“You know—I know how you want to fuck me with those eyes. I can sense them, hm…” Her fingers run onto the hem of your sleeves up to your collar, subtly teasing you as her voice makes you melt and fall under her spell. “Maybe it’s time for a test, you know?”

You mock her, intimidating her as she just smiles with your constant rants, knowing that you’ll fall into the abyss of desires soon and you can sense it in her eyes, that’s why you want to play. “Do you think that’s going to work, Yeji? Oh please, make me~”

“You’ll see…” Yeji’s taunting gaze sends you into a state of captivation, where butterflies seemingly take over your stomach, making you fall for her attractive advances towards you and there’s no way in this world you’ll ever find herself unable to allure you. You know she’s growing impatient once she knelt down hurriedly and looked up at you, with a smirk as she’s about to be delighted with a treat that she’s been longing for. 

“You don’t mind this, don’t you?”

“Well, do your thing, Yeji—it’s like I can stop you from here.”

Yeji scoffs as her hubris intimidates you, knowing how you’ll easily bite into her trap and your words laced with sincerity. “Glad you knew that.”

Not going to play with such golden time, she treasures every second and gives you a sinister smirk before tugging your pants and unbuttoning it, deftly enough before you could even comprehend what she’s been really doing to you. Yeji’s hands swiftly caressed its way to your thighs, making your little member grow enraged, filling it with lust as she eyes on it like its prey, her voracious needs only clouded her mind to slobber all over it and savor every second of tasting it. “You know you made me this stressed? Then, I guess I’ll need to find a way to de-stress myself using you.”

Without uttering a single word anymore, she swiftly brings your boxers down to your ankles as she’s flummoxed with your erected-length, almost hitting her in the face. Her pupils gradually dilated, her eyelids fluttering as she’s attracted to the musky scent of your shaft and the incredible length on it and with her curiosity peaking, she brought her hands around the base of it and stroked it slowly. Her touch brings you down onto your knees (figuratively) as the coldness of it breaks the heated atmosphere that has been emanating because of such suggestive actions.

“You know, let me share one thing about me.” Yeji flickered her tongue against your sensitive head, tasting only a hint of you as she never broke her intimidating façade, making your ears piqued onto listening to only her. “I like choking on a good fucking cock like this, hmmm—mwah, this is so perfect to look at and god, you know how I’ve wanting this for a long time now…”

She does love choking on a good fucking cock like yours, moreso, sucking it as her lips peppered kisses all over the vicinity of your shaft, not leaving any area untouched with her soft, plump flesh. You can bet her lipstick stains will stay onto the base of your shaft for later, and you’re just anticipating that because she’s nearing her way there, now taking a desirable length of your dick inside her slutty mouth.

Even though she’s clouding your mind with the stupendous work of her vacuum of a godlike mouth, you can’t help but think on why her demeanor suddenly changed. You know it has to be the unbearable boredom or she saw something in you that she became starved—yes, your goddamn crotch was her weakness and it wasn’t even hard for that to be not obvious. Her constant eyeing and lip bites was just enough for a strong evidence of hungers towards you and you just can’t believe how everything escalated quickly right now—you just can’t believe the fact that the C.E.O’s daughter is basically giving you mind-boggling blowjob at an elevator and the best you can do is to savor every second on what her lips can muster.

“So hungry for my cock, hm?”

Yeji constantly slurps on your succulent shaft as it took her a second to respond, too concentrated on sucking you off and giving you the most intense pleasure of all time. “Yeah—no shit why I slurped so hard on this delicious dick of yours.” 

She continues her oral masterclass with more bobs as she takes you halfway in, slurping onto your length like it’s a delicious meal. She then grabs your hips for a better leverage on sucking you off and without anymore foreplay, it is time for the main event on why she even got into this mess in the first place. Constant bobbing ensues as the pace escalates ridiculously, you moaning in delight as you get to experience such fine pleasure from the beautiful orange-headed girl in front of you and you couldn’t really ask for more now. The hollowing suction of her cheeks tends to really make you feeble, pairing it alongside her talented mouth slobbering all over your shaft and making a filthy mess with her copious amounts of drool. You already knew how she loved the living fuck out of your cock when saliva inevitably seeps out of her mouth and lathering everything it meets around the vicinity and with that sight alone, is extremely arousing in levels you can’t even comprehend—add up the mascara running down her cheeks due to her tears running down because of her aggressive actions on your shaft, pushing herself over the limits.

You know Yeji won’t have enough nor even bother speaking at you when your addictive length is over her sight, ready for her slobber on and wanting her to pull out and give herself a breather, you mock her about how she’s not taking you whole and how she can do better than this. Everything that's happening right now is going well just according to your plan and you can’t wait for her to get baited to your trap as it’s just meters away from a surprise you wanted her to take.

“You know how I need to fucking taste every inch of you first, isn’t that ri—mmfh—mfh!!”

“Just shut the fuck up and choke on my cock, Yeji.” You know you can’t bear her talkative mouth to be all over the place, constantly ringing around ear when you can shut her up with a heartbeat, or rather, your entire length curried inside her slutty throat. You catch her off-guard with your actions but she doesn't complain but rather, further pushes herself more until her sharp nose is buried onto your pelvis, deepthroating you with hints of ease and struggles because of her constant gags.

Her iron will to penetrate herself deeper using her throat is phenomenal, and rather gave you the best oral service you’ve ever had as she bobbed her head furiously on your shaft, signaling her starvation onto it like it’s her favorite popsicle—this will be definitely her favorite popsicle to suck on, knowing how she’s enlightened on how succulent it is. She alternates between breakneck bobs up to five-second deepthroats which make you moan in need and your member throbbing violently because of its tightness.

She definitely loves choking on a good cock, she really does and this is just getting started.

“Fuck—your d-dick, it’s incredibly delicious—hmm, mwah, I l-love it…” Yeji continues to suck on your swollen slit, lapping the leaking precum coming out of it as her vixen eyes averted towards you, probably proposing to you something that you wouldn’t deny. “Give me your phone, quick.”

You can’t really comprehend what the hell is going through her right now—

“Come on, give me your phone! I don’t have all day…”

Well, you know what’s going to happen now and you would love to have a bad bitch like her to be just a call away on your contacts. Pulling your phone from the pockets inside your long sleeve suit, you quickly gave it to her as she grabbed it swiftly, going to your phone log and typing her number with a single hand and honestly, you’re impressed with her multitasking as it’s difficult to avert your attention onto two different things and giving them equal attention. You can clearly see the dexterity of her fingers as tapped the numbers correctly (probably) as she’s still ensuing a great pace with her other hand gripping your hips for the best leverage.

“Here you go…” Yeji then gives your phone back to you as you insert it in your pocket yet you’re in utter shock at what she just did and decided to really ask her about how worthy you are to save her number on your phone.

“But w-why? Didn’t you hate me for just breathing earlier?”

Yeji, again, didn’t respond attentively as she’s occupied in both ways: her mouth and her brain all averted onto her oral masterclass as after a few more bobs, she pulls her incredible suction of your constantly throbbing member, preparing herself to answer your profound question.

“This cock…” Yeji gives your length leisure strokes as you subtly moan in response, her hands really giving the paramount of pleasure as she continues her hand work all over your member. “Is my type, and you’re actually cute, honestly—I don’t know, should’ve not judged you that harshly earlier if you’re treating me this fucking beast.” She slaps her face with your rock-hard shaft as she continues her oral session with no time to waste. With an incredible pace already being ensued by her skillful mouth, you can’t help but just indulge to the gratification that she’s giving and to further make it worse, she doubled the time of her deepthroats between mind-boggling bobs, which completely makes you lose your own mind—most likely, in the verge of it but you’re doing your utter best to fight against it.

Knowing how close you can be with your member constantly throbbing onto her tight, pleasurable mouth, Yeji knows how she can make this mess a lot more filthier than what she has already done, further setting you up onto an arousing sight that will never forget.

“Why don’t you fuck my face to add up the mess, hm?” Yeji seduces you with her sultry voice as she lures you in to your deepest, lustful desires of filthiness and thinking about it, makes you even want to dive in to your temptations—you’re already given this golden opportunity, and it’s up to you to take it.

You should take it, you’re not going to lose anything about this but have everything to win it all—“Then I’ll fuck your goddamn face, Yeji—”

She gags on the spot as it comes with another one, constantly struggling with your entire length shoved down her throat as she encourages you even go rougher and with the given green light, you let the feral beast inside you go berserk.

You grab onto her orange locks, pulling it to form some makeshift-pigtails and further gave it all—you can find your hips ensuing a velocity that you thought you could never muster, as it goes rough on her mouth, pounding it like it’s going to be your last. This definitely wouldn’t be your last, and this will be your introduction to her own world as you continue thrusting into her mouth in full force, her constant sounds of her gags becoming apparent that it resonates around the elevator—you just hope no one would hear the profanities and sin the both of you are moaning about. You can see the filthy mess that has been all throughout her beautiful visage as the once fierce and modest vixen was now degraded into a perfect, sullied mess and it’s just the best thing to lay your eyes upon.

“You want to fucking choke on it? Then fucking choke it, Yeji. This slutty mouth is so tight I’ll pound this until your throat becomes sore, do you understand?” Yeji could only nod as your rampant thrusts makes her yelp because of your rough treatment—you know how much she loves this as the lustful glint in her eyes says a lot, now being converted to tears that adds up to the ruined mess that further ignites the heat of the sinful atmosphere. It wouldn’t be that long before your reservoir comes into a breaking point—you could feel yourself closing in and there’s no better way to end this on a complete filthy mess of a Hwang Yeji, on her knees, begging for your damn load to be deposited deep in her throat.

“Going to cum—you better take it all, Yeji—” She just constantly gags as the concoction of different, indistinguishable liquids are just all over the place sets up the most arousing part yet. You bury her nose into pelvis again, your balls pressed onto her chin as you unload everything you got, to the point of no-return and god, you’re just in heaven because of how enchanting this experience is.

Surprising enough, she takes it all as every spurt that shoots down on her walls makes her yelp in warmth but she fights to the urge of pulling out, not wanting to disappoint you in any means. She knows what she’s up to and a masterclass of her act, as she shows the abundance of your thick, warm semen at her tongue and suddenly, with two gulps, it all faded away from your sight within a blink of an eye, all stored for her to be savored by her stomach.

“God—that’s fucking delicious, not gonna lie to you, shit…” Yeji, still perplexed by what just happened, continues to compliment the taste of your seed as you smile because of it, your confidence now going over the roof. She smiles in return because of your harsh treatment on her mouth, loving every second she chokes and gags onto your whole length as she wants more of it but sadly, all great things won’t last for an eternity, meeting its painful demise as surprisingly, the elevator can now be felt working finally as you feel the both of you going up.

Now cleaning both of yourselves up, you prepare and make yourself presentable because of a freaky session the both of you went into by Yeji as she breaks the awkward silence. “Aren’t you going to join a party?”

“Nah, I was kidding earlier—I’m actually going to just meet someone way up the building but I guess we got stuck here so… yeah.”

Yeji nods as she further wipes her tears with some tissues, the elevator can be heard by a single ding, marking the arrival of her destination.

“I guess this marks the end of our meeting, hm?”

“I guess so…” You scoff as Yeji scouts herself out of the elevator but before she does so, she leaves words for you for further reassurance.

“I’m not done with you, meet me at the ground floor at 11 P.M. You better be there because I need to know you more, baby.”

And there, your heart beats unexplainably fast before the elevator doors close and you could just see her scrumptious frame swaying, walking like a model of your dreams and god, what a fucking experience you dived yourself into and it all feels like a damn dream…

---

“Didn’t really miss my call, hm—ohh…”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

You continue peppering her neck with kisses that further ignites the heat of the atmosphere around, making everything a runback on what happened earlier but this is way better and more intimate than ever before. Yes, this was just the girl who despised your existence earlier and is now equally naked as you are, sharing such intimate kisses and filthy talks meant to arouse the both of you, up to the roof.

“Was really hesitating at first but—” Your soft pecks releases the sultriest moans from her lips, voicing out how incredibly skilled you are with your lips and how you can make her feel good, yet you continue, “—I know how genuine your tone is, and probably, wishing for chance…”

Yeji looks at your eyes, endeared but full of lust as she speaks at you, “And that chance is fulfilled right now…”.

This is just phenomenal, no matter what you say. You still can’t fathom how this is real but you’re not complaining at any means but rather, cherish every second that passes with this beautiful woman. Now, with Yeji pulling herself out of your lips’ warm embrace, she can’t contain her primal urges anymore and with the scrumptious sight of her, the feelings are just mutual as she breaks another silence—“Fuck me now, baby. Show me what you got.”

Giving her a faint smile and then a smirk, you then let her lie down on the bed as she rests on but then, you got to know how she really wanted it as you want to treat her roughly but in her own accord. “I want it from behind, baby—where you can see everything you want to see~”

You never expected Yeji to lay such a perfect invitation for you, her lazy, sultry voice alongside her momentary alluring moves towards you just makes your heart be captivated and you can’t ask for more with that. With her constant wringing of her ass for you to further fall onto your deepest temptations, you brushed your full-erected cock onto the heat of her core, teasing her with a pace similar to being stagnant in which she whines because of your leisure actions.

“Don’t tease me, baby—I want it all rough inside me—please, ohh…”

As much as you want to do the opposite, the thought of being rough towards Yeji is turning you on so much that you could imagine all of the possible ways to really sully her into oblivion. That wouldn’t lay onto the cloud of thoughts as soon as you place both of your hands on her hips, caressing them to further absorb that lustful energy she’s emanating by her constant sways and within a second, it all went onto the state of utter bliss.

Like what Yeji said from the beginning, she wanted it rough with you then you’ll have it that way as your hips ensued such a ruthless pace, not giving her a breather as you caught her off-guard, constantly whimpering with your whole length ravaging her velvety walls without a break. Of course, you’re merciful, you won’t commit at such a ridiculous pace enough to break her but with her complete wetness, it didn’t become a struggle to pound her yet her inevitable tightness would like to have a talk, constant gripping on your shaft like it wouldn’t let go.

“You’re fucking t-tight, Yeji—god!”

“And you’re fucking big i-inside—ahh, m-me—but fuck me anyways!!”

Of course you will, as you completely disassemble her tough, bitchy demeanor into a state of submissiveness, further oscillating your hips onto a constant rampage of ruthless thrusts that makes both parties succumb onto their deepest desires—all committed onto the most sinful act possible in mankind. Her moans became orchestrated to the point it became a subsequent noise that’s music to your ears and it’s just making your arousal skyrocket up to the sky. With her buttcheeks constantly getting shaken like an earthquake because of such powerful magnitudes of your thrusts, you compose a proposition that will make everything elevated: slapping the porcelain skin of her butt would probably ignite the lust even more, and you did just that. Yeji loves how you’re going rough on her backside as the constant clashing of bodies denounce the deepest sinful act the both of you could possibly be into and she further encourages you for more but something’s breaking the lustful noise with her profound wants.

“Gosh—ahh, fuck! Choke m-me while you’re—gahh, f-fucking me, please! Fucking c-choke me—oh my god!!”

You saw that coming and thought she would actually forget about that because of your length constantly ramming her tight cunt which makes her brain go haywire and would only think of your constantly-rough treatment. You never knew a girl like Yeji would be into such a wild fetish and you can’t blame her for that—the fact that she treated your cock in her mouth earlier all sloppily and ruthless says the fact that both feelings are mutual, again.

With her wants all over the way, she didn’t even bother to talk as you fulfill her request, further pounding into her tightness while wrapping your hand almost around her neck with your palm onto her nape, further igniting the lustful asphyxiation that she’s been into. Her moans now are becoming broken because of the lack of oxygen as the thrill turns Yeji on, more than what you could expect and guess what, it’s maybe evident that it’s one of her real fetishes. You can find her tight cunt constricting around your rapid length as the utmost stimulation and lack of breath is overloading her senses, between the risky play of life and death coming to play as she moans erotically because of your actions. You don’t want a beautiful girl laying down unconscious as with her constant swears, you let go of your tight grip around her neck as she catches her breath as soon as you let her airflow be present again.

Formulating the right ways to make her arousal go up in the sky, you alternate your hands on spanking her buttcheeks and choking her neck, the play of her fetishes finally making the experience of sex more elevated, her subsequent moans letting you know how much she loves it. You could really feel the utter wetness that has been seeping out of her core right now, forming rivulets of her own juices and coating what it can around the vicinity—might as well change her bed sheets because Yeji wouldn’t help sleeping on a wet bed mostly because of her. Because of your ridiculous pace and your rough treatment towards her, Yeji can’t help raise the volume of her angelic moans and soon enough, her highly-anticipated high.

“Oh my g-god—choke m-me, baby—I wanna f-fucking cum while—you, ahh—choke m-me!!”

Then you’ll fulfill her needs because she’s the star of this show, and you’ll do whatever she requests you to do. You maintain your firm grip around her neck as your other hand grabs her hips, opting for a great leverage onto chasing her own high, ravaging her tight pussy like it’s her last. With your harsh onslaughts of ramming thrusts, it wouldn’t take long before she reaches her desired peak, coming closer to the promised land and then letting out series of sultry profanities—

“Fuck—I’m g-gonna c-cum, baby!!”

With the constant pulsation of her cunt, you know her high is approaching a near velocity as you gave her the final thrusts she deserves. Yeji, not minding her orgasm from breaking her apart, wants you to continue ravaging her pussy even though she’s in the ascending state of bliss, so euphoric that she can’t be arsed to think about anything but her orgasmic trance. You do as she says so and god, she’s climaxing hard, multiple streams of her own nectar flowing out around your constantly-ramming length as she screams in delight, further closing herself towards peak gratification.

“I know y-you’re going to cum s-soon—please—ahh, c-cum inside me—oh god, fuck!!”

She knows how close you are as she helps you to reach your own anticipated high, further fucking her scrumptious frame onto your raging length until it’s all too much to handle and you could only succumb onto the inevitable fate of your own orgasm. Releasing the grip around her neck, you gently grabbed her perky mounds and fondled it, making her whimper in need as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt with multiple spurts of your creamy mess, painting every inch of her hugging walls white. You groan because of the intense pleasure coursing down your veins, every thrust opting to extend your orgasm as she’s too insatiable for you to stop yet your mind does so, inevitably slowing down your hips as your orgasmic trance is now meeting its demise, and you, utterly enervated and feeling euphoric. You slowly pull out of her as your member is getting flaccid, admiring the mess you’ve made between her snug hole as you feel like you’re in heaven right now and, god, this is splendid.

“You came a lot, baby~” Yeji is in subtle awe as she looks at the cum-filled mess you’ve deposited inside her but then, worry settles in and Yeji being clever, reassures you that everything’s going to be alright.

“You’re fine, baby—I’m safe today…” Yeji then grabs your muscular arms, pulling you into a torrid kiss as she savors the taste of you, making sure that both parties will be elevated into utmost affection and endearment. You then pull out right after as you admire her beautiful visage, every feature making you in awe as she’s the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t ask for more.

“God—I just can’t get enough of you, Yeji…”

“And I can’t, either.” You continue peppering her with kisses as you worship her neck with multiple pecks, making her subtly moan as she voices out her satisfaction with almost-inaudible moans. “You can sleep with me here, for the night—I need to know you more…”

You scoff as you're in utter shock, not knowing that it will end up like this—you may have or have not expected this outcome, to be honest—but nonetheless, you’ll take it. Yeji then gets up from her previous lying position, legs still a little wobbly as you wanted to help but she didn’t insist on it, letting you know that she can do it on her own yet you can hear her voice, calling you out and presenting another proposition.

“Another round in the showers? There’s plenty of room here, baby~”

And maybe you’ll end this stupendous day with another load buried deep inside her cunt—

[lightlycareless]

heyyyy:33 love reading your nao x reader headcanons, i am feeling bit angsty and been wondering how would naoya react if something goes wrong during yn's labor. like she starts screaming, trashing around and is in lots of pain.

Hello anon!!! You want angst??? WELL YOU GOT ANGST.

Actually it's not that much, but hey, it's not that nice either so... I hope it's to your enjoyment still!

warnings: pregnancy. going into labor. the fear of a baby dying. bleeding. naoya suffers. 🥺

related work: (sequel) (prequel)

Happy reading!

Something going wrong when Y/N is in labor is hands down, Naoya’s worst nightmare. He might’ve prepared everything so to keep risks to the minimum, and yet, there are moments where that is all he thought about.

That, and the worse version of his fears: the two don’t make it.

He tries his best not to think about it, Ranta also tries his best to distract him as soon as anxiety etches his features. And you…

Well, you wish you could offer a viable solution, disappear so the sight of you doesn’t have him spiraling, yet remain close because he needs you and he’s your husband, for crying out loud! You don’t want to be away from him, not even for a second, while pregnant!

But… everything was proving too hard for you to deal with on your own, and stresses like these could only do harm to your pregnancy, alongside those awful thoughts that would cross your mind in the worst moments possible: the idea that maybe Naoya… maybe he didn’t want a family with you anymore.

However, the love both had for one another, for the mochi growing inside you, alongside the support of your family and friends, these obstacles were soon forgotten, replaced with the excitement of the fast approaching day of delivery, the moment you’ll finally be able to hold your baby, as well as see if they were a boy or a girl—not that it mattered, for they’d be unconditionally loved anyways.

Everything was carefully tended to, starting by ignoring the Zen’in’s insane request of having you deliver the baby at the estate, in less than prepared conditions and away from your family just because they wanted.

Nope, not happening. Instead, he arranged your stay at one of the best hospitals of Tokyo, a whole floor with dedicated personnel to solely attend to you; just to begin with.

Your family was naturally impressed by Naoya’s dedication to once again go to these lengths. And yet, he wasn’t doing anything they wouldn’t have done for you; in fact, they also gave their own suggestions to further ensure your safety!

«Well, at least we know she’ll be ok with Naoya…»

“I’m going to be fine.” You’d tell them, slightly overwhelmed by their worries. “Though I do think Naoya might’ve gone a bit over the top…”

“It’s only necessary.” Naoya interjects. “No one outside of the necessary people will disturb you, everything you need will be tended for, and you’ll also be in presence of your friends and family.”

“Friends…?” You repeat slowly, because at that point you only expected your family to be there, not your trusted staff, who were grinning at the prospect of accompanying you during one of the most important stages of your life! “Oh my god, you’re here!”

“What, thought you’d get rid of us just because you’re having a baby??” Haruko grins.

“I’m offended by how poorly you think of us.” Hitomi teases.

“I—I didn’t expect you guys to be here! I thought you’d be busy or—or something!” You chuckle. “I’m speechless!”

“Don’t be too speechless, we still have to make the most of the city before you’re admitted into the hospital! I personally have never been to Tokyo, so I’m planning on taking all the tours.” Mariya enthusiastically suggests.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, did you forget my wife is very much pregnant?” Naoya frowns, she laughs.

“We’re just joking, Naoya—what kind of godmother would I be if I didn’t care for her?”

And in this precise moment, you genuinely believed it couldn’t get any better than this. Surrounded by the people you loved; nothing could ruin this!

Unless your contractions were to begin a bit earlier than anticipated, followed by a numbing, stinging pain that made you freeze on your track, drop everything on the spot to tightly hold onto your stomach; a feeble attempt to stop whatever it was that had you such mortifying state… rushed to the hospital when blood soaked your garments, your and Naoya’s worst nightmare abruptly becoming real.

Without time to waste, you’re quickly checked into your designated room to be urgently attended by the doctor of his choosing, the supposedly best there is in all of Tokyo—no, Japan—who alongside his entourage began to urgently prepare everything for your procedure, for your symptoms were not expected neither wanted in a pregnancy.

But if that wasn’t anxious enough for your husband, your screams of gut-wrenching pain that only worsened as time went on were enough, were enough to get him spiraling.

“Help her!” Naoya demands, more than ready to rattle the doctor into action if needed.

“We can’t let you in if you’re going to disrupt the patient.” The doctor warns, further fueling your husband’s desperation. He’s just a mere second away from losing himself, just one more word and he’ll—

“Naoya, please, calm down—” Thankfully, your father was there to put a stop to his anger, a genuine sympathetic approach for he’s gone through his fair share of pregnancies—things like these don’t scare him that much, but they still worry him.

How could it not? The probability of losing his daughter, the youngest, his first grandchild too…! And just after loosing his wife as well…

It’s a pain he would never wish upon anyone. Certainly not on his distraught son-in-law….

So, what good is it to hire the best, if they’re not going to do their job?!

Naoya freezes upon hearing another heart-wrenching scream come out of you, heart dropping to his stomach as he hears you demand them to get the baby out, stop your suffering and just—help you!

He doesn’t want to hear more of this, he doesn’t want to see nor hear you suffering so, but he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to act nor what to say that could get you out of this awful predicament and back into safety, into the world where you and his child were ok and all this was nothing but an awful nightmare!

But the same moment he was debating what to do, your father already made his decision, walking past him and straight into your room, firmly determined to support his daughter through whatever destiny fate instilled on you—even if it meant death.

A sight that soon snapped Naoya out of his struggle, feeling like an absolute idiot for even hesitating! He’s been through life-or-death situations before, why is he suddenly cowering now, pitying himself?! When you need him the most?!

What poor excuse of a husband he was being; a despicable father compared to yours.

Once snapping out of his dark thought and gathering all of his courage, he steps into your room, heading straight to your side, opposite of your father and takes your hand, letting you hold it as tight as you needed—whatever the sacrifice he had to make to ensure your safety, he’d willingly oblige.

“Nao—Naoya—” you breathed, looking up to him. “It—It hurts!”

“She’s losing too much blood.” A nurse would note. “She’s still not dilated enough.”

“My baby—I don’t want my baby to die” you fret.

“She won’t.” Naoya reassures. “She won’t die, I swear—”

“We’ll have to induce her labor to help her dilate, and if that doesn’t work, then a c-section will have to do.” The doctor explains, hoping to get his permission.

“Anything.” Your husband pleads. “Anything to save my wife, my family, please!”

Because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you. Life would cease to matter at that point.

But thankfully his prayers were to be heard, and with the quick, highly prepared skills of medical staff, were you freed of all complications, ensuring not only your safety, but that of the baby as well, perfect just as the two envisioned her to be.

“Naoya, our baby.” You’d breathe, face lightening up when the nurse finally placed the small, chubby bundle you’ve been waiting to hold for 9 long months in your arms, holding her softly against your skin as you gushed. “Our baby is—”

“She’s a girl.” The doctor says. “A healthy girl.”

“A girl.” You cry, tears of happiness dampening your cheeks, struggling to believe what was before your eyes. “Naoya, we had a beautiful baby girl!”

There are no words to describe what Naoya feels at this very moment: to the sight of you lovingly holding onto your baby, the highest demonstration of love between the two, after so much suffering.

Though he could start with love at first sight, something he already believed existed, but when his eyes laid on his beautiful baby girl, he was completely sure of it now.

“She has your hair.” You comment on the small patch of black hair on the top of her head.

“And your nose.” He responds, gently poking it.

“Ha! How can you even know so? It looks like a regular nose to me.” You giggle—only to gasp a few seconds after being given the breathtaking sight of your baby slowly opening her eyes for the first time, a revelation that made your heart flutter. “Naoya—she… she has your eyes! Oh, my love, she looks just like you…”

Deep within him, Naoya always hoped the baby would look like you—with your big round eyes, your silky, soft hair, and adorable cheeks he always loved to tease. He thought she’d looked far better with your features than his own anyways, and wished would be that way.

But there was something about seeing you gush about her likeness that struck his heart with adoration, feeling appreciated and fiercely protective of the precious, tiny baby in your arms.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to know the name of the baby before continuing” Another nurse said, and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you gently poke her cheek, already imagining the agony her father would put her through.

“Naomi.” You say, eyes intently focused on your daughter. “Zen’in Naomi.”

Named after her father, perhaps the only tradition you kept from the Zen’in, because there was nothing else you wanted more than for the world to know of the man that has made you so happy, the love of your life, either through your affection, or Naomi, your new family.

“A granddaughter, I have a granddaughter!!” Your father would proclaim, tears in his eyes as he accepts the baby from your arms, who was now wrapped in a soft pink blanket he got as a gift, with you proudly smiling at his excitement. “Oh, she’s beautiful Y/N!”

“Welcome to the family, little one!” Hinata grins, eager to take her niece into her arms as well, but patient enough to not do so until her turn. “You don’t know how happy we are to finally have you here!”

“Can’t wait to see you grow up and give your parents a run for their money.” Ren teases, you pout.

“My baby is going to be a nice, well-behaved girl.” You respond. “Unlike you guys…”

“Though she will be spoiled.” Naoya promises.

“Well, it can’t be spoiled if it’s what she deserves, right?” you say, he nods along. Your family fears the lengths you’d both go to do so; you and Naoya are already ruthless as it is…

But even then, they genuinely knew they had nothing to worry about—for as long as they were around, nothing bad would befall little Naomi.

As expected, the exhaustion of the past few hours finally caught up to you, at first making you yawn before your eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier; a sight that didn’t go unnoticed for too long, your father gathering everyone around for their departure.

“We’ll be outside if you need us.” Eiichi promises, carefully handing Naomi back to Naoya. “Rest, pumpkin, you deserve it.”

“Thanks, dad…” you yawn. “I feel like I could sleep for years.”

Eiichi chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before moving onto Naoya, patting his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Naoya. You’ll be a great father.”

Naoya smiles, warmed by the words his father wasn’t there to give him, gladly accepting them in his heart as they promptly make their exit. Once alone, your husband places Naomi into the crib nearby, placing a kiss on her head and eventually making his way to you, to give you a kiss as well.

“You did amazingly, my love.” But as much as you wished to enjoy this moment, the agony of past experiences swiftly makes way to your mind.

“…I was scared, Naoya. So, so afraid that something would happen to me, or worse, our baby.” You tremble.

“I know, I know.” He coos, softly removing some unruly hair strands from your face as tears begin to pool in his eyes. “But it’s over, all that is gone—we have Naomi now.”

“I was afraid of leaving you behind.” You continue. “I… I didn’t want you to face all this by yourself. The thought of you having no one to rely on frightens me like you have no idea. At one point I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you—”

“That was my worst fear too. I loathed even thinking about the possibility of returning home without you.” The moment you notice the tears forming in his eyes, you quickly reach out for him—to the best of your ability anyways, much to his worry. “No, Y/N, you have to rest—”

“Thank you for being by my side.” You murmur, hugging him tightly. He returns the gesture soon after. “I’m so glad to have found someone like you, to be my husband, and now father of my daughter.”

“…What did I do to deserve you?”

“Well, you gave me an adorable baby girl, as of recent!” you sniffle through a giggle, making Naoya chuckle. “From there, all that I ever wanted, really. From food, clothes, even holidays…”

Naoya blushes, proud of his consistent commitment to you and the happiness it provided you. And yet, that was not to be the end of his fluster—not without your following words.

“But most importantly, your love.” You smile. “If anything, I should be wondering what I’ve done to deserve you…”

“Your mere existence is justifying enough for me.” He responds quickly, another tear sliding down his cheek, which you swipe soon after. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him. “And our new family.”

…

…

…

“I know some mothers feel the desire to have another child as soon as their baby is born, but after what happened, I think it’s best for now if we hold off that idea for a while. Don’t you agree?” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, couldn’t have said it any better. Though something tells me Naomi is going to be quite the handful to begin with…”

“Considering she looks just like you, I’d say you’re right.” you laugh, he rolls his eyes before kissing you once more.

[sadsongsandwaltzes]

I am not a psychologist so I have no clue if this is just my own crackpot theory or what. And my apologies if I’m speaking out of my ass here.

We were not made for a fallen world. We were made for Eden. Since we have to live in this world corrupted by sin, the brain does what it has to in order to survive.

A toddler doesn’t know what “hot” means, until one day you warn the child not to touch a plate because it’s “hot,” they touch anyways, they feel the sting, and now they understand what “hot” means. The brain, now acknowledging this is something that can be a threat, has an immediate response to “hot.” Anytime someone says “hot,” we immediately recoil and make sure we don’t touch whatever is believed to be hot. The brain is simply trying to survive.

I think there’s a similar thing happening with trauma response. It’s the brain doing the same thing, but to such an extreme degree that it’s almost impossible to function. If someone survives a near fatal car crash, they may panic when they go near a car. Why? Because the brain has learned this thing to be an immediate and serious threat. The brain is now trained to fear and recoil. If you lived in a war zone and learned to sleep with one eye open so to speak, the brain is now trained to sense danger at every turn, especially when you’re in such a vulnerable state as sleep. You’re living in a constant state of anxiety because you expect a fatal threat. It’s why sudden noises and movements can trigger anxiety.

The brain is doing what it does. It adapts to perceived threats for survival. This heightened state of anxiety is deemed necessary by the brain, but we were not made to live in such a state. We cant. So the brain is, ironically, slowly killing itself. The brain is rewired and burned out and always looking for that next serious threat. It’s always reminding us that the threat looms. It’s where the subconscious lives. It’s why there’s constant anxiety, why there’s nightmares.

Of course, this can be exacerbated if the trauma is accompanied by severe grief or guilt.

This brings me to my point. If you would not tell someone to just pray the cancer away, I don’t think you can tell them to just pray the trauma away. We’re talking about a real physiological problem happening.

I think grief and guilt can be assuaged by the gospel. But the brain’s inner working itself? It’s a medical problem the same as any other. God absolutely can heal trauma same as cancer, but sometimes he doesn’t. Faith can absolutely bring about peace in hardships and give us the strength to carry on, but it’s not a guarantee that God will remove the hardship. That would be prosperity gospel.

And with all of this we can also recognize that certain treatments or habits may help relieve symptoms without fully curing, it exists on a medical spectrum.

And I think this is true about a lot of mental illness.

For the record, I think most mental illness in modern America is actually spiritual illness. And I think most psychologists are looney tunes. But people abusing a certain field of study and being stupid and misdiagnosing doesn’t negate the field of study as a whole.

If every sick person who walks into a doctors office no matter the symptoms gets diagnosed with cancer, it means the doctor is a quack and we have a problem of over diagnosis of a disease. But it doesn’t mean the disease isn’t real and that a certain percentage of the population doesn’t actually suffer from it. That would be a downright foolish thought.

Hormones, brain function, all of it can affect the mind. The brain is a complex organ. We still can’t fully understand it. And I don’t think we ever will. We know the brain can affect the mind. If it didn’t, people with TBIs would never suffer from sudden mental illness or personality shifts.

It seems wholly unchristian to deny the reality of both our body and the fallen state of the world.

[peaches2217]

In my verse, when it comes time for Expectant Mareach™️, Peach is adamant that the baby is a boy whereas Mario is confident that the baby is a girl, and they bicker over it constantly. When they get the anatomy scan, the doctor prints a picture of the baby that clearly shows the sex, but they don’t want to see it yet. They actually have Toadsworth look first. Toadsworth takes one look, immediately starts crying, and hands it back to them. And that’s how they find out they’re having a girl.

So with that said I would like to deliberately provoke your Expectant Mareach brain and ask how that same scenario plays out in your head: what are their thoughts leading up to finding out their baby is a girl? How do they find out? What are their respective reactions?

Live footage of me waiting for your answer:

A quick warning: I'm pretty sure you've already heard all of this, so forgive me if I'm being redundant here. But I've got strong feelings about this scenario.

More under the cut!

When Mario was younger, he had a very vivid picture of his future: he would go into a successful career (didn’t matter what career, just anything he loved and was good at), meet a beautiful girl, give her a wedding fit for a queen, and have nine kids together, the first of whom would be a little girl that looked just like her mother. (Luigi would always have to remind him that the first order of business was choosing what sort of career he wanted, and then the rest would come later. Telling him to take a deep breath and lower his standards, of course, never worked.)

That old twenty-year plan is the farthest thing from his mind when Peach is getting prepped for her second-trimester scan. For that matter, they haven’t really discussed the matter of gender at all lately. The anxiety has been getting to Peach; her mother fell fatally ill while expecting her, and though she was ultimately born without complications, she’s scared to death that something will be wrong with their baby. What if it’s inherited the mystery illness that claimed her mother’s life? What if it has a bad heart or bad lungs or bad everything? What if there’s no heartbeat at all? What if nothing’s even there and those little ticklish movements she’s been feeling in her belly are all figments of her imagination?!

She knows most of these fears are illogical, and that if anything is wrong they’ll be able to address it quickly, so she’s been doing her best not to make a big deal of it… but she’s pregnant and hormonal and emotions are running high as is, Mario knows she’s struggling. He’s anxious too, but mostly the good, excited-type anxious, because his gut tells him everything’s okay, and his gut is rarely wrong! So he focuses his energy and efforts into keeping her calm until they have definitive answers.

The nurse is quick to assure Peach that her baby looks perfectly healthy. Everything looks and sounds like it’s supposed to at this stage! Peach’s fears melt into joy, and she finally stops constricting the blood flow in Mario’s hand, and he’s playfully reminding her that “I told you! You know Mario’s always right!” when the nurse asks Peach if she’d like to get a closer look at her.

Keyword: her.

“Her?”

“Her.” The nurse brings the screen closer to the pair, a congratulatory smile on her face. “Seems we’re looking at a little girl.”

Peach is so thrilled, eagerly chatting and commentating as the nurse reviews the sonogram with her, but it all fades into a background hum for Mario. He doesn’t even know he’s zoned out, much less why. He watches and listens and smiles, but there’s so many thoughts and feelings fighting for dominance in his head that they all cancel each other out, and even by the time they leave, all he can feel is numb.

Peach, naturally, picks up on this, and she pulls Mario into some shadowy corridor to ensure he’s alright. It’s only then, alone in relative darkness with his wife as she speaks softly and clasps her hands over his, that he’s able to pinpoint what’s got him so dazed. Didn’t he once daydream the same scenario as a kid? He’d dreamed of falling in love, a wedding fit for a queen, a baby girl — and here he is all these years later, a consort to a literal queen — his wife, l’amore della sua vita — and she’s carrying a baby girl. Their daughter.

This is about as literal as “a dream come true” can get.

Peach once more asks if he’s alright, and rather than answer, he stands on his toes to pull her into an embrace. He still can’t think too clearly, and he’s still feeling far too many things at once; all that comes out of his mouth when he tries to speak is “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” and there’s a few tears trickling down his cheeks, and he thinks he might be shaking a little bit, but however chaotic his innermost workings are right now, he knows he’s happy.

[feybeasts]

Please don’t take from this any conclusions that I’m not trying to make here but.

I don’t fear dying anymore. Or at least- it doesn’t scare me like it used to. When I was younger, it terrified me, the notion that all this would come to an end someday. I dug deep into so very many… systems of belief, so many words of people wiser than I, and nothing seemed to sate the fear, nothing would bring me peace- it was like I couldn’t live anymore, and when my dad grew ill, it became a fever pitch. Eventually it wasn’t so much that I got over it, but I just got so… worn down, so bombarded with fear and anxiety and hurt that I just couldn’t dredge up the sensations anymore.

And when he died, I… cried, sure, I wanted him back, but there was a funeral to speak at, people to care for, I couldn’t grieve overmuch because like it or not, I had to keep living. And somehow, some way, I did.

I spent almost a decade like that. Just… carrying on. I wasn’t more than 25 years old when he passed away, still a kid in so many ways, especially with the struggles I was already facing, being autistic, anxious, facing traumatic stress I didn’t have a name for. I lived, despite the fear, despite the hanging, painful inevitability of it all.

And then, my childhood best friend lost her life to cancer. And my cat I had raised from a kitten. And my grandparents. Death after death after death.

And I stopped feeling anything- because each time, I was just… expected to be there. To be the strong one, the person that showed up. That was the mask I wore, there was no room to be anything else. I became hardened to it all. Loved ones just… slipped through my fingers, and all I could do was show up, little more than a black dog hanging at the edges of a half dozen cemeteries.

I’m not alone in this, I know people have been through worse, far worse. We often say death is one of the inevitable things in this world- “death and taxes” is the joke. And that inevitably haunted me, even if the fear didn’t. Any time I got sick, any time I felt off, any time I went to the doctor, all I could think was “well, is it my turn? Will this be the time they tell me it’s curtains?”

I mean, it felt inevitable, right? I had lost so much, so many people, so… thoughtlessly. Lung cancer, ovarian cancer, MRSA, kidney failure, a fucking… genetic defect. All just bad rolls of the dice, and my luck had never been all that good to begin with.

But the thing is, we can’t really… determine that for ourselves. I mean sure, you can do things that bring you closer, make that irreversible call- I am no stranger to attempts to check out early, I have the scars to prove it- but if you just… go on living, you don’t know when your time is up. And no matter how much you might assume you’re next on the chopping block after so many losses, sometimes you just keep… carrying on anyways.

For all the arrogance we have, for all our damnable pride, we ain’t craftier than the reaper. Maybe that’s for the best.

I’ve “kept carrying on” for the last eight years, regardless of what I thought. Sometimes I still feel like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, like all this, all the good I’ve known, the people I love, like it’s all just… a sweet song on the air, that I just get to listen to it for a little while before someday there’s silence.

When I was young, I was so afraid of when the song ended that I didn’t listen while it played.

Nowadays, I just try to sit back and enjoy the tune.

Nobody knows what’s on the other side of that door. It’s scary to think about. But when my time comes to walk on through, I like to think I’ve at least enjoyed my time here.

And who knows? Maybe death’ll just greet me like an old friend. We’re familiar, them and I- I’ll at least shake their hand and nod that little bit of understanding between us.

It’s the least I can do.

[heiressofdoodles]

Journal of the Last Prophet (Part Two)

November Seventeenth, 1635

I was summoned to the Queen’s Court yesterday afternoon. Non negotiable, even in the case of emergencies. If she had more honesty with herself and with us, she would’ve sent her guards to drag me to the castle at swordpoint. Being in her presence is sickening, and even though I was allowed to bring my spouses here, I… was unable to sleep last night. The anxiety was so intense, I felt ill just attempting to sit up. I was dreading the idea that the second I closed my eyes, her guards would break down the door, and throw me into a cell… or worse…

I’ve… heard stories of a place in the castle… Dull Glass. You can use it to travel across Wonderland if you know how to use it, but… if you aren’t careful… it’s a never ending maze… What’s worst of all, again I’ve only heard stories about Dull Glass, is that if you are not of sound mind or are hiding dark secrets, even if you don’t know those secrets exist, it will haunt you. Follow you, chase you relentlessly, stalking you until they break you… figuratively or literally… or until you find the way out. I don’t want to find out if those stories are true. There… is not much I can do against the Queen. No matter how much I want to…

The sun is rising as I write this. I just hope they make hot chocolate or coffee here to help me feel more awake…

It was… not a pleasant visit, I must say. She was so calm and friendly to us when the rest of the court had arrived. Somnia was even joking with us a bit… in her own twisted way, of course. Taunting me for the curse she forced upon me… After lunch, she had invited me into her office. Still, she was calm… right up until she had dismissed my spouses and her guards. The moment those doors were closed, her needlessly cruel and sadistic tendencies were on full display. For one, she had… a strange box in front of me, just sitting on the desk. When my curiosity had gotten the best of me, I saw there was a strange, soft blue, whispy pearl looking thing in the glass box. I knew what it was before she had even said anything. 

“So, how is your situation going in Tarot Town, anyways? Everyone is happy and content?” It was sickening to me that she could talk to me as if there was nothing wrong; as if she hadn’t stolen my voice from me. I tried to give her the best answer, and she just laughed at me. “I’m still surprised they keep reelecting you as Mayor when you sound so pathetic.” I said nothing… What was I meant to say? She just… stared. “I’m certain you’ve noticed this little case on my desk. Would you like to know what it is?” That smile… How could someone be so wicked…?

She… I don't know how, but with a snap of her fingers, a soft, red glow appeared, and… I had my voice back; the glass box was empty. I could speak again. I could genuinely speak, and not just in those strange phrases. Real words and real sentences again. I had been dreaming of this day, the moment that I’d be able to speak normally again. I even had a plan of what I’d say… I’d tell my spouses that I love them. But I highly doubt I’ll be able to do even that before she reverses the spell again… Trapped… in this one room with the person that had done so much to people that only wanted what was right… She certainly was expecting me to be at my nonexistent feet and begging for her mercy and forgiveness. When I did nothing of the sort, she seemed more frustrated and angry.

I tried to block it all out… Her anger, her hatred, and the threats… but nothing I could do really… helped… After a while of failed negotiations, I… seem to have worn down her, because, she… did exactly as I feared she would. Our meeting was over, and she had stolen my voice again. I was just as ashamed of facing my family as I was… when this curse came into effect. And to think that we’re trapped here in the Card Castle until the Queen dismisses us… I just want to go home… But I think that the Queen ordered at least two of her soldiers to stay posted outside my bedroom… I can hear them talking through the door, and the windows are locked. I don’t want to die here.

January Twentieth, 1640

The weather has been a bit clearer lately; we’ve had a few days of blizzards and snow which had snowed most of us inside. I’ve been going through the town as I usually do now, checking with every family as I go. Sadly, I don’t have time to socialize with all of them, but it’s certainly better than not having anything. Quite a number of families were glad to hear that the storm had cleared, and not just because they needed a break from their families or needed some more food. I just hope the grocery store didn’t lose power.

I heard stories when I was a child of someone called the Snow Queen. She’s somewhat of the physical embodiment of winter with all the metaphors and characteristics of its hostile nature. Lonely and cruel, with a never ending hunger for power and a thirst for violence. Despite this, I’ve also heard tales of sympathy, calmness and even friendliness to those that respect her and her rule. While her appearances and stories about and including her have become sparse in recent years, she is known to be petty, and causes unnaturally violent blizzards to those that disrespect her. If any of those stories are true, I hope that she is doing okay, wherever she is.

About half past three, I had knocked on the door to the twins' home. They seemed to rush beyond the door, before opening it. “Oh, Mayor Aeon,” the one twins had said to me. “What are you doing here?” I had mentioned that I was here to make sure everyone was okay. They seemed… hesitant, before they opened the door to let me in. Their home was cozy and warm, even if it was a little bit dull here and there. They didn’t seem to mind, however. In fact, I think it was rather put together and calm. It wasn’t quite like the other villagers. “Hey!” the one twin called. “The Mayor is here!” I tried to tell them (to the best of my ability) that there was no need for them to be so… worried about speaking to me. But they insisted that I stay for some time…

They had made some hot chocolate to help warm me up, and had welcomed me to hang up my coat and veil. Naturally, as I didn’t want to disrespect them, I did as they asked with a smile, and sat down on the couch. They were rather decent hosts, I must admit, and the conversations were far more pleasant than normal. That is, until they had asked if it was true, what I had said to the Queen almost five years ago now… the stories of my “bravery” having apparently spread across the town, yet never having been said to me… I’m… still surprised that people hold me in such high regard… It doesn’t quite feel like something that would be said about me, I guess… But, I did confirm it. I had done that… I had spoken against the Queen, and I had rejected the chance to be given back my voice…

“Then… you truly are the Mayor of the people.” I was somewhat confused… They had sat down across from me, and the weight of the air… it grew heavy with anticipation. They seemed to be… holding their cards tightly against their chest, however. “Are… you sure you won’t tell her anything?” I nodded my head. I restated what I had told her all that time ago. I will not bow to her, and nothing she can do to me will change that. They seemed to be afraid… 

“We are… from Underland, Mrs. Mayor.” My heart sank. Not because they had lied to me, but because it all made sense. The strange, subtle movements they made, their unwillingness to give their names, the look in their eyes… How could I look upon them with any discontent now? Peaceful lives weren’t going to be available to them so long as Somnia sits on the throne. “We had moved to Wonderland about… oh, fifty years ago now? But… with what happened nearly thirty years ago… We had been desperate to hide ourselves. We heard what she had done to the Bishop, and… we dread that if she learned there were Underlanders living in Wonderland for even longer than him…” The one with the cane shook his head, trying to block out the thought. It must’ve been a dreadful idea, if he couldn’t even speak it.

The other spoke instead. “None of us want to face her wrath. Because she’d almost certainly burn this entire town down to make us pay for existing. No one would be innocent in her eyes; all co-conspirators in sheltering us from her… Not even you, Mrs. Mayor.” My hands shook. All this time, they had been living in fear of the Queen, and of anyone that got too cozy with her. I still feel so horrible for them. How could anyone be able to live that way? They… didn’t say much afterwards… I understood why. They must’ve felt like they had already told me too much. But it was better for them to tell than for this secret to be stressing them with their every moment. I left shortly after, thanking them for the hot chocolate, and finished greeting everyone not long afterwards.

I hadn’t even told Kaseki, Kamenshi or Galacta about this… I’m just writing it down, in this book, where no one will ever be able to find it. They trust me with their life, and I trust that this secret will stay in this book. I don’t even care if I have to rip out these pages to protect them; I will do it. No one deserves to live in such terror and fear for every day of their life. I swear, I will never tell her anything. I won’t let any of them down.

I would rather die than tell her anything.

July Thirty First, 1642.

Today marks one long decade of my curse. There has been no sign of it breaking. No sign of release or freedom from this dark spell, and yet, we have overcome the troubles she had forced upon us. While the world is indeed suffering, the town has slowly been clawing out of the worst of it. Well, as best we can thanks to the Queen’s regular intervention. If I was not so… polite, I’d already have written out a rant of less than appropriate words to describe her. I have reason to believe she’s become paranoid with me still being in power, but I don’t have any time to make a revolution from the town. And besides, I’m not a Suit; I don’t have the power to take away the throne from Somnia, and no one has heard of the Spade, Diamond or the Club in ages. It’s like they’ve just up and vanished without a trace.

It’s… fine, though. We are doing what we can do without them. I’ve held up my promises to the town, which must be why I’ve held office for so long. Despite my curse, and despite the long hours of work… I do try my best to make sure we’re all protected… My mother seems a bit on edge with some of the things I’ve told her, though. Of course, I haven’t told her any secrets that I promised to never share. I could never… But, from what my Mother has told me… things have been getting worse over at the castle. People are being thrown into the prisons, some are being killed over petty slights… and Somnia seems to be driving herself even more mad than before…

If it was anyone else, I’d feel sympathy. Pity, at worst. But I don’t. I feel horrible for the people she’s betrayed, however. She had sworn to protect Wonderland when she took the throne, but she is just using her power and privilege to make everyone around herself suffer. She’s not cruel because she’s alone. She’s alone because she’s cruel. At this rate, I don’t think anyone should take the throne again. From what I’ve read of the history of Wonderland, it’s just more corruption as the line goes further down. Every power vacuum creates another crisis… I can only assume Underland or whatever other realities out there are doing far better than us.

…I’m just rambling again. I’m sorry.

August Twenty First, 1643.

My mother passed away today. I went to her house this morning to talk to her and to go out for breakfast, but she was already gone. She passed away peacefully. It feels… so wrong for her to not be here. I miss her so deeply, but it’s only natural that it would’ve happened. Her health had been in decline for some time now - since last year at least, but losing her still feels horrible. There are still so many things I want to ask her about, so many things I want to learn, and yet she’s taken her knowledge and experience into the void with her. Doing my work for the town will be a bit difficult, but I pray that this wave of misfortune will pass over soon.

August Thirtieth, 1643.

I… severely over estimated how hard losing my mother would be. When I went to the office the day of and after her passing, the others told me to go home and rest. After a brief protest, I did. But I still feel so exhausted. I wish she was here. I try to distract myself with my work, but it doesn’t work for long. I don’t know what’s worse now; this curse, or this… feeling that I could’ve helped her. She was going to die eventually, but we had plans. Places to see, things to do. And there are things I wanted to talk to her about, answers that I couldn’t find for myself. Kaseki and Kamenshi said this is normal after losing a parent, but… I still miss her so deeply. I want to keep her close, but just memories of her aren’t enough. Not really. Maybe if I actually had my father here to grieve with me… or if I had already learned how to grieve if he's not alive anymore, maybe this wouldn't feel so much worse… I hate to end this on a negative note, but… I just have nothing positive to say today.

September Fifth, 1643.

I've been doing more of my job to the best of my ability. Things have been rough, but the people have been understanding. There has been no word from the Card Castle for too long; I'm expecting a visit at any point. I hope that no one has noticed my stress, but it's a bit difficult. How long can I wait without an answer for the question if I’m even going to be alive at the end of the week? Somnia’s rage grows with every visit and every refusal.

While I was making my rounds, I believe the Twins had taken notice of my gloomy state. They were sitting at the café again, before they saw me and waved me over. While they still haven't told me their names, they’re pleasant as long as they don’t bicker. Which… Now that I think about it, it isn't very often. Probably not the best way to describe them, then. Those two will find anything to argue about. It’s rather impressive, but can also be draining to be around them for long.

The first twin, the one with the cane beside his chair, asked me how I was doing without my Mama. It… was hard to answer honestly. I don’t like being vulnerable to a good amount of the town, and with those two in particular, it’s best that you have your defenses up. But he was calm and sympathetic. Didn’t even raise his voice when his brother made another ill-timed joke. “I understand, my dear,” he said to me. “It’s very hard to lose someone, especially if they’re the only one that you’ve had for so long.” I… didn’t really want to hear it. I’ve been hearing things like that since Mama passed, and it was more so getting on my nerves at this point. When you hear the same thing over and over, even the most sympathetic of phrases can become nails on a chalkboard.

“I… Both of us had gone through something like this, dear. This… realization and pain of knowing they’re gone.” I gently excused myself the best I could, (I had no translator again today, but they seem to know what I said to them, even without Galacta’s help) but the more I think of it, the more I needed to hear what they said next. “Your mother would be proud of you.” I turned to look at them again, astonished at the gentleness of his voice. His brother was completely silent, but the look in his dark glasses told me that he was thinking the same. “You’ve been through a lot, and if anyone else was in your position, we would’ve caved to the Queen’s demands. Yet you still fight her tooth and nail for every shred of dignity that she wants to rip away from you.” I almost didn’t want to accept such kind words, but it felt very nice to be appreciated in that regard. I… hope that’s not my ego talking.

After a bit longer, I said my farewells again, and left them to their coffees. I can never tell what I’m going to get myself into when I go to talk to those two, but just knowing that they care about the struggles it takes to keep this town safe from the Queen… It just helps. I think that maybe that’s why they left Underland all that time ago. Despite the risks, they somehow knew things were going to get bad on this side of the rift. I spoke with my spouses about this earlier, and I was surprised to hear that they agreed. They said that my Mama had done the best she could, but even she couldn’t stand against Somnia like I have. Again, it might just be my ego talking, but it feels like I’m carrying on the torch. Leading the town to a time and a kingdom that is safer for everyone. Not just for the one at the top.

September Eleventh, 1643.

Queen Somnia is paying the town another of her surprise visits. I had been warned by Galacta as her carriage and her royal guards appeared on the horizon. She's done so much to myself and my people. Why does she still feel the need to come to our home and spit in our faces? He's going to accompany me during my meeting with her, translating as he often does now. I still feel so foolish speaking to my people; talking to her will be like a nightmare. I wish Mama was still here. If not to guide me, then to at least hold my hand and understand what I’m going through.

When she arrived, she was her usual self. Soft and sickeningly sweet to the people, but the moment that she and I were behind closed doors, her vile self was on full display. Galacta Knight stood beside me, and his grip on one of the swords, even if it was just for decoration, was terrifying. His stare was blank and empty, but I know that he was furious to see her again. She laughed and taunted me, asking if I was finally ready to tell her my visions. I refused again, and that just made her more furious. She threatened to sentence me to Dull Glass if I refused any further. But I won’t bow down to her. And she knows that if she so much as raised a hand to me, she would come to regret it. She left without any sort of pleasure from the trip.

But regardless, if nothing is done to stop Somnia, she will become so powerful that she's going to starve the land, and even if she doesn't, her thorns will choke the life out of the people she had sworn to protect when she was crowned. When she had undoubtedly stolen the crown from the poor soul that was the Ruler of Wonderland before her. If only I could do something. If only any of the other suits were here to do something. Please, Club, wherever you are, please come back to us.

September Fourteenth, 1643.

The Club has returned.

I had a vision not long before I woke up this morning. There were vines covered in poisonous thorns spreading across Wonderland, and the world shattering like glass, leaving only a void in its wake. Then I saw a green glow, with clover flowers blooming, healing and piecing back together the broken world. From the furthest corner of the world where the light was coming from, there was a figure standing there, a young Bluebird child, with the Club in the palm of their hand. Our world, all of Wonderland, will come to the brink of destruction at the cruel hands of the Queen, but the Club will defeat her in some form or another. The Diamond and the Spade couldn't do it; I just pray that this nightmare will finally be over.

There was… another part of my vision however. When the world was falling to pieces, I saw the Moon. It appeared suddenly, and it glowed an ominous blood red. I… will have to do research on lunar imagery in Wonderland's history. The moon on the sleeve of my priestess gown is symbolic of wisdom, fertility, womanhood, and empowerment… But I don't think everyone would have used her symbol so kindly. I'll have to be extremely careful if the Queen pays another visit to our town. She has some way to tell if someone is lying to her; if she asks about the Club, and she learns that they’ve returned… There won’t be any way to save them.

September Seventeenth, 1643.

The world had fallen to ruin, if only briefly. When I woke up after everything went to black, the world was still and quiet. Whatever had happened, it was sudden. The Club was gone, but, to my joy, so was Queen Somnia. I can finally speak again. I can finally speak clear, proper sentences again. I’ve been waiting for this day for over twelve long years. The first thing I said to my spouses when they came home early to see if I was okay was “I love you”. We… We wept and laughed in joy, just holding each other for hours. We had taken the rest of the day off, and just spent the day together, finally able to just talk without needing someone to translate my words anymore.

September Twentieth, 1643

I was making my daily rounds today, a grand weight lifted from my shoulders, when I heard a small commotion. Some of the children were playing in the fields like usual, but some of the adults were standing at the edge of the town, staring at something. I went to investigate, and I’m not too sure how to describe what I saw. At least, I wasn’t sure without drawing potentially unwanted comparisons. There was a man playing in the fields, running around with the children, but also using a cane to help support himself. He had long, wavy, silver hair, two pairs of arms, and clothes like other Wonderlanders, but some of the movements he made resembled those Twins that came from Underland. As if he wanted to move slightly further or slightly less, but couldn’t compromise with his body. I went over to greet him, and he stumbled, before turning to look at me. That smile he had was slightly disturbing, but I think what was most concerning to me were his eyes. Or rather, the lack of his eyes, hidden behind those colourful glasses he wore. I tried to shut it out; it was horrifically rude of me to judge him based on something that he clearly tried to negate with his glasses. 

The children ran to me, cheerful and happy as ever, and the man greeted me like I was an old friend. “Oh ho! It has been quite a long time since I’ve seen you, miss. Perhaps… Twenty five years? Maybe longer?” I opened my mouth to respond to him, but I don’t think he had many people to talk to. He was so excitable, and even I couldn’t help but be lost in his amazement at just… existing, I suppose. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. How are you, though? How have you been? I’ve been meaning to find the place you described to me, and now I’m here!” I… gently expressed my confusion, and after a small chat, I… I knew I wasn’t crazy. I knew that he wasn’t gone forever. That was Shard. Shard was standing right in front of me! He really was alive… or as alive as you could be, trapped under a curse for that long. Had it really been over twenty five years since I saw him? I’ll have to check.

I spent the rest of the day just talking with Shard, or Lucid as he preferred to be called now. It wasn’t a name he chose for himself, but it stuck, and he didn’t think he’d change it. He stumbled through the streets, even when Kamenshi came over to help him walk. Lucid was still taller than Shimi, but the support was deeply needed. A cane could only do so much for him, as we quickly discovered. I can’t imagine sitting down for so long, and even being able to walk or float ever again. And yet, here he was, walking, running, and just breathing in how life should have been for him. A life that the Ex-Queen Somnia had stolen from him. I will have to inquire how the Club had even defeated Somnia and how she was dethroned, but I think that might be a bit too soon to discuss. Perhaps at another date.

For now, Shard, Lucid, whatever his name will be, is alive, and I believe the guest bedroom will be occupied for some time.

September Twenty Fifth, 1643.

Something rather unexpected happened today. I had woken up today with a bit of a cold, and we’re out of medicine at the moment. Kaseki said the soonest she’ll be able to get some cold medicine is tonight, but it’s bad enough that I don’t think I’ll be able to go to work today. Lucid had caught wind of my ailment, and offered, chipper as ever, to take my place for the time being. I… attempted to persuade him to not take the offer. Even a calm day was still quite a lot of work, but he seemed up to the challenge. He clumsily let me know that the town was in safe hands. I kindly asked Galacta to keep an eye on him and to help him. I don’t want him to overwork himself or to do something that would take more than a small conversation to undo. I doubt it would get that far, but the chance is still there.

For now, I’m just sitting in bed, reading a few books, the fan on to keep the room decently cool, and a nice drink of warm water, lemon juice and honey to soothe my throat. Perhaps I can use today to continue more of my research, but I'll have to take more notes to make sure I actually remember anything. I’ve seen more than one instance of Lucid’s newfound clumsiness get him into more than a spot of trouble, but with no word from the Card Castle still, maybe we’ll finally get an easy going day for Lucid. He did say he was the Bishop of Underland, but I don’t think that Wonderland is the same, even back when our worlds were connected. So long as he tries his best and Gala is there, I should be able to rest easy.

Probably.

October Thirteenth, 1643.

When the wrath of the bloodstained moon bathes the sky and washes over the land, the nightmares that burned up our imaginations will come to flesh. All corners of the Divided Realities shall be consumed by The Lands Between. The Traitors and the Sinners will perish in the flames, and the Bystanders will be without hope. Our Judgement Day is arriving.

I have no recollection of writing this. Did I write it and pass out? Or did I write it in my sleep? I… I don’t even remember having a vision that could prompt this… I’ll have to get into contact with the Card Castle soon… As much as I despise that place… I need to speak with the new Queen. Wonderland is in more danger than I thought we were.

October Twentieth, 1643

The Club has returned again.

It’s… strange. Mama said that out of all of the Suits, the Club has always been the most mysterious and the least likely to be around for significant amounts of time. They primarily appear when the Divided Realities, as my… as my blackout vision described it, are in immediate danger, possibly even when they are close to complete destruction, and soon after the source of the problem has been removed, they disappear into the pages of myth once more. The history books are full of the first three suits, but the Club is barely present for more than two sentences. It’s… frustrating to say the least. It doesn’t help that there’s so much missing. I’ll have to ask the Jailer, Dero, about some of Wonderland’s past.

The trends that I’m finding are most interesting, though. The Heart is most often the ruler of Wonderland. The Spade is often a powerful Lord or Lady, sometimes at the right hand or even the consort to the Heart. The Diamond varies, but in times of unrest and war, is usually the first to rebel against the throne and even be the leader of a rebellion faction. And the Club, whenever they make themselves known, is often the mediator; the one to take control of all of Wonderland, even for a fraction of a second and even if they don’t know it, to ensure the future of Wonderland is in good hands. Perhaps there was a flaw in how they did it recently.

Lucid said the Club is a child; a young bluebird by the name of Fylass. He left to travel the world a few days after I recovered from my cold, and visited again briefly yesterday to return to Card Castle. I was able to ask him about the Club, and said “they are a troubled youth, but I’m sadly unaware if they are even alive anymore. If they are, it breaks my heart that they haven’t come back to say they’re okay.” I believe the current Club is the same one that assisted in dethroning Somnia… Speaking of Somnia, I haven’t heard of her since she was dethroned. Not even Lucid really had an answer as to where she disappeared to. While I’m curious… I can’t say I’m sympathetic. After all, she almost certainly made enemies in every village, town and district in Wonderland. I think the only choice she’d have now is to disappear completely; leave Wonderland to find some place that she could eventually call a home for herself again.

I just know it won’t be here.

-

Fylass in Wonderland belongs to @george228732

Aeon and Cresunsa belong to me

Queen Somnia belongs to @stardustshimmer

Shard/Lucid belongs to @lostsoulau-ask

Dero belongs to @monsterhatdoodles

[uptoolateart]

Bean There, Done That

One of my work colleagues messaged me on the way home to inform me that someone in our team requested a short story about the life of a coffee bean - specifying that the beans ultimately aren't afraid of being ground up because it's like becoming One and returning to The All.

A couple hours later....

Bean There, Done That

Beano lay in the jar, amid the pile of other beans like himself, staring out at The Grinder that sat beside them on the counter.

Day in, day out, a hand unscrewed the lid to the jar – removed it, letting in a shock of air – then dipped in The Spoon. And each time The Spoon came, anticipation brewed, gripping Beano’s core with cold hands – anticipation for the day when it would be his turn in The Grinder.

‘You never come back,’ one of the other beans said. ‘When you go…it changes you somehow and you never return to the jar.’

Maybe that was a good thing. Anything had to be better than the daily grind of sitting in that jar, not knowing when it would be your time to go. Yet, fear was stronger.

Please don’t take me. Take the others, but not me.

A prayer made in vain. It was only a matter of time before The Spoon caught him in its cruel lip.

‘I think we’re all looking at it the wrong way,’ another bean said. An older bean, who’d been in the jar longer. His voice was heavy with the weight of experience.

‘How should we look at it?’ Beano asked.

‘Well…tell me, how well do you remember being a seedling?’

A memory flashed in his mind, an image forming, of being green and small, before he’d swelled into something resembling what he was today.

The older bean nodded as though he held the same image in his own mind. ‘And can you remember when you were chosen?’

Chosen? He hadn’t thought of it that way but…perhaps that was what had happened that day – the day he was plucked from the plant, forever taken from the only world he ever knew, selected for roasting.

‘You were frightened then, weren’t you.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Of course I was frightened. I didn’t know what to expect.’

‘Yet you survived. You changed, but you’re here. We’re all here. We’re in this together, you know. Sometimes it’s easy to forget our shared roots – to let time harden and embitter us. But none of us is truly alone when The Spoon comes for us.’

‘You really believe that?’

‘I have to.’

‘So you’re not scared at all?’

The older bean sighed. ‘Of course I am. It’s always frightening, not knowing what’s coming next. But maybe that’s also part of the thrill.’

Thrill. Hard to imagine, but…maybe. He couldn’t deny that inner voice that said it was time to move on. There was nothing left for him in the jar.

If only there were some way to know for certain that whatever awaited them in The Grinder didn’t hurt. But if the other beans screamed out in pain, the sound was drowned out by the motor of the machine as it processed them into something else – something Beano could only imagine as he hung in the jar, watching, waiting.

* * *

The next time The Hand of Fate came, Beano knew.

It’s come for me. It’s my turn.

The lid was unscrewed, the air flooding in. The Spoon dove in, dislodging him and catching him in its snare. He fell, back into the jar, but the providential utensil came for him again.

Beano was lifted into the air, staring down at the other beans remaining in the jar. Beside him, other beans jostled with anxiety. Then they were sliding off The Spoon, into the silver bowl of The Grinder – him, the older bean, and several others.

Imagination had not prepared him for what lay within – four sharp blades, glinting under the kitchen light, emphasising their cold steel edges. It had to hurt. How could it not? If only he were a Mexican jumping bean and could leap on out of here. But he was a coffee bean, and this was what happened to his kind. There was no escaping your purpose.

The Hand approached, reaching for the machine, for a button. Any second now and this would all be over. He’d finally understand the great mystery that awaited them all. And he wasn’t ready – he wasn’t ready.

‘I’m scared,’ he whispered to the older bean, whose time was finally up.

‘I am too.’

The admission undid him. How was he supposed to hold it together, if his senior, the one who’d taught him there was some good in this, was just as terrified?

It didn’t matter, because The Hand was there, the finger extended, pushing the button. Then – the whirring sound, so familiar and yet new, fresh, when it was coming for him.

The Blades of Destiny didn’t just begin turning but whipped round, flinging him in dizzy circles, jumbling up with his companions. When The Blades made their first cuts, the sharpness was so exquisite that he couldn’t quite feel it, only had a sense of dissemblance. His consciousness was splitting, multiplying. Somehow, he was in more than one place at once, time and space but mythology.

Helpless, he surrendered – the only choice he could make before all choice was taken from him. He let go, released of his shell and whirling with the fragments of his brethren, until it was impossible to know where he ended and they began.

The old bean was right. We’re not alone. We’re all in this together – in ways we could never imagine.

Sweet silence settled as the blades fell still. He landed in a heap, somehow both less and more than he was before. There was no Beano, no older bean, no brethren. They were all one bean, released from the constraints of form.

The Hand came again, lifting the bowl out of the machine, into the air, and tilting it over a white cup. Soft as leaves, they were eased into the cup, caught and cradled in a filter, warm and snug. Then – burning – hot water being poured over them, releasing their essence.

Oh god, the smell that burst forth, filling the air! It was them, transmuted once again, now no longer solid but aroma, the aroma of spirit.

As they drifted over the kitchen, floating as steam and scent above the counter, they saw the jar that had once encased them, the prison they had once clung to, believing it protected them. The other beans remained in there, waiting for their turn, afraid of what it would bring.

If only they could tell them – could describe the beauty and ecstasy of what was coming for them.

But they’d just have to find out for themselves.

[kpopshipsdaily]

Hi! Could I get a ship with BTS, txt, stray kids, and (if that’s not too many) ateez & enhypen? If that’s too many or if you don’t do some of those feel free to cut them out.

I am 5’5”, with brown hair & eyes, 06.

Things I love: Rainy days, gentle sunshine-y (golden hour) days, stars, long road trips, hugs, cuddlllleeeessss, smiles, jokes, coffee, forests, big open fields with trees, music, and the feeling of coming home.

My aesthetic is: Cottage core and dark/light academia, some indie, and add some soft girl, and...well I could go on lol — but I don’t really have one, it depends on my mood

My ideal date: It doesn’t matter 🤷🏻‍♀️ as long as I’m with some I love and what we’re doing is not outrageously illegal — but if I had to choose, it would be going to a cafe, talking about ourselves, listening to music, then going outside and dancing in an empty parking lot to some random music we put on, and going home for cuddles.

My hobbies: fangirling (obv), reading, writing, singing, imagining things, drawing, dancing, spending time with friends, and laughing.

My mental state: I’m generally a pretty happy person, until I retreat into my mind — then I get sad/depressed very easily.

Things I’m afraid of: Heights (tho I’m slowly getting over this lol), losing people, and I have some social anxiety.

Social: If I don’t know people; I tend to come across as very reserved and studious — until someone says something I know about/enjoy, then I enthusiastically say a few words 😂. Around people I know; I’m very clingy, and hyper, as well as laugh-y/smiling. I actually love cuddling them, and stealing their clothes (mostly sweatshirts). I will occasionally have days where I literally say nothing expect the bare minimum — usually ends in a cry lol.

Good things about me: umm... I love taking care of people, and I’ll do my best to always be there for you (even if I’m sleepy), and I enjoy baking so I’ll give ya lots of sweets lol

Bad traits: I can become very distant, and I’m known for my short temper, if I don’t have mental space for you then I’ll ghost you for a few hours, I have days where I’m just sarcastic and moody to the max, lol I could go on but I’ll stop here

Personality overall: I’m an ambivert, who loves people and solitude at the same time, a spontaneous, but calculated person, a loving, extroverted bean, but also a venerable, lonely lil monster.

(My love language is physical touch/loving words)

(Ps I’m a Libra, a ENFJ/ENFP...if ya wanna know)

So sorry if this is too long — I got a lil carried away :(

With your detailed description, here are the ships:

With BTS: Jimin - Jimin's gentle and caring nature aligns well with your love for hugs, cuddles, and affection. He would appreciate your love for rainy days and gentle sunshine, and he could understand and support you during moments when you retreat into your mind. His warmth and kindness might help ease your fears and social anxieties.

With TXT: Soobin - Soobin's thoughtful and considerate personality could complement your ambivert nature. He might appreciate your love for reading, writing, and imagining things, and he could provide the stability and understanding you need during moments of sadness or depression. His affectionate gestures and kind words could fulfill your need for physical touch and loving words.

With Stray Kids: Hyunjin - Hyunjin's playful yet caring demeanor could resonate with your spontaneous and loving personality. He might enjoy your love for dancing and spending time with friends, and he could provide the comfort and support you need during your moody or distant days. His affectionate nature and willingness to listen could strengthen your bond and help you navigate through your fears and anxieties.

[katarena]

My turn!

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

Traumatised a character. Like, legitimately traumatised her. I've never really done that before. As a piece of writing, it turned out quite well - but I had to play it carefully as trauma isn't an easy thing to overcome. And this time, it was the good guys who inflicted it.

How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

Nine.

What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

That if something doesn't feel right in your writing, don't force it. If a reaction doesn't feel natural, don't write it. Write what does feel natural.

What piece of media inspired you the most?

That would be the Bay film of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles". They're different from the other incarnations in that they genuinely look like they could kill you if they wanted - which was what I needed for the story.

What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

Pokémon (don't laugh), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2003, and the TMNT Bay films.

What ship(s) captured your heart?

I don't really write ships in fanfiction, but I quite like Jyn and Cassian from Rogue One.

What character(s) captured your heart?

Taylor from the Bayfilms. She's in the first film for less than two minutes, and I didn't expect to like her so much when writing the fics. Probably because I found myself imagining the fear and anxiety she was going through.

Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year?

Nope.

What fic meant the most to you to write?

Raphael's Big Mistake and Living Well Is The Best Revenge.

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

That would be I'd Search Forever.

What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

Definitely Raphael's Big Mistake. I felt physically ill and anxious while writing it (and I did finish it).

What fic was the easiest to write?

The Subject 17 series. Once I knew where it was going, the story just flowed.

What were your shortest and longest fics this year?

The shortest fic I wrote this year was just a couple of lines of dialogue. I can’t even remember what the title was! The longest would have to be Living Well Is The Best Revenge.

Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023

The fic I would rec is Raphael’s Big Mistake. It’s an AU that happens in the first TMNT Bay film, where April doesn’t come to meet the turtles and Raph decides to go and get her whether she likes it or not. After all, it’s better to be scared than killed by the Foot, right? Turns out there are two people living in the flat. He grabs the wrong one. Oops. (For anyone who hasn’t seen the film, Taylor’s not an OC.)

What were you go-to writing songs?

I don’t really have a playlist for fanfiction. Original stories, yes, but they’re a different matter…

What were your go-to writing snacks?

CRISPS!

What was the hardest fic to title?

Probably Living Well Is The Best Revenge.

Share your favorite opening line.

The black eye’s begun healing.

Share your favorite ending line.

“We’re taking the fight to the Shredder.”

Share your favorite piece of dialogue.

I think I’ll go for this one from Raphael’s Big Mistake.

“Do not let my son’s actions have power over you.”

The trouble is, they keep affecting her even though she doesn’t want to let them. That’s trauma for you.

Share an excerpt from your favorite scene.

Oh, you can’t ask me that! I’ve got more than one and they ALL contain spoilers.

Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

I kept rewriting the reunion scene in I’d Search Forever, because it didn’t feel quite right. It was very hard to capture the emotion right, but I am happy with how it turned out. Here’s a paragraph from it:

Leonardo opens his arms and catches him with a joyful cry. Donatello clings to him, sobbing out a laugh as his brother hugs him tightly and kisses him three times on the side of his head. Then Leonardo takes his face in his hands and stares into his eyes.

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I knew that Taylor wasn’t going to just get over what happened to her – but it was surprising how long it took for her to finally snap and let everything out. I found exploring that very interesting.

What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.)

I mostly use Word for my stories, except when it comes to drabble stories I just type them into AO3.

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

That moment in I’d Search Forever when Don is finally reunited with his brothers.

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Um…not particularly (sheepish smile)

How did you recharge between fics?

I don’t think I did, actually. Ideas just kept coming.

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

I would thank everyone who’s left a review/advice, my parents and other members of my family.

What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

I would like to pick up Princess of a Thousand Enemies again, and finish Living Well Is The Best Revenge and I’d Search Forever.

fic writer asks

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

What piece of media inspired you the most?

What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

What ship(s) captured your heart?

What character(s) captured your heart?

Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics this year?

Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023

What were you go-to writing songs?

What were your go-to writing snacks?

What was the hardest fic to title?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share an excerpt from your favorite scene

Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.)

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

[boozeforblues]

Dying Is An Art, Like Everything Else (Serve The Broth Of My Heart To The Tongueless)

Out of body experience to accompany the fact that I'm out of my mind Trying my goddamnest to find The reciprocity that always stares me in the face But is nowhere to be found when we're apart, it's only grace That keeps my insides from revolting against me Telling myself the only other participant in this war is anxiety A pounding head and a flush red face Constant lies whispered at a fever pace About how these drinks are poisoned To rot my organs and leave my bowels voided Arsenic cuts to the quick, only my bones suffer Dispelling every notion that I was tougher Than my preordained outcome, leave me under tarp To familiarize myself with the brutish and sharp Piercing eyes that are fit to pierce my organs Served to a select few in equal portions The secret ingredient kept under lock and key Left in between a rock and me Getting stoned in the old testament sense I always knew I'd have the white picket fence But it's my remains hugging the property lines My insides become makeshift landmines 

I'm searching out signs that spell the end Raging paranoia is my only friend Wondering how many will burst through the door To bind my hands and feet, settle the score Drag me out into the street to give the neighbors a show Slit my throat under the dim glow Of the street lights, drain and bottle my blood Sell it to the masses and wait for the flood Of passers-by to confirm my greatest fears I'm praying you don't, but will it reach the ears Of anyone who could make a difference? Taking solace in the fact that every inference Made on my part is a hint well placed Failure is a test that I've perpetually aced Far too many times to remember And I'm still waiting to be dismembered Serve the broth of my heart to the tongueless The curse that destroys idealism and youngness 

Making friends with despair March me down to the town square To burn me at the stake, all's fair In worry and despair, so let's make sure to take proper care When my ashes are spread out to sea And I never had the good sense to flee When I had the chance, bliss is just misplaced ignorance It always expects its prey to be timorous But I know too much to fight the inevitable And all of my treatment has been inequitable But not undeserved, my mind keeps begging "mind me" No matter the distance, it would find me Shackled and led to the gallows, a public spectacle With no regard for what's ethical Drawn and quartered, 50 gallon drums my fate And I'm headed for an uncomfortable eternity at this rate An obituary that reads 'local man fed to ravenous coyotes' And these keep getting harder to read, I know these Words fill my mind and it's dangerous still Summoning the demons in my head until They present themselves in the physical form Toast to my demise, biblical like a locust's swarm 

Carted off in pieces down the corridor Relax, everything here is just a metaphor...

[grandwretch]

chapter 13 of once bitten, twice shy 

xiii. why can’t this be love?

read it here on ao3

Eddie was late. 

That wasn't the reason Steve's stomach was in knots– Eddie had been late for everything since the moment Steve and Dustin had dragged him out of the Upside Down, and probably before then, too –but it certainly didn't help. Every minute Steve was alone, searching for distraction in his parent's foyer, his anxiety grew sharper. There was nothing for the nerves, really; All of Robin's encouragement and Eddie's reassurances had failed to budge them. Small fears clung to Steve's thoughts like burrs, biting unshakeable worries that had Steve doubting himself time and again. 

He hadn't been on a date with someone he'd actually cared about in so long– Hadn't had a real girlfriend in nearly two years and, really, could he consider the last few months with Nancy as dates? Looking back, Steve could only remember the stress, sad dinners with Barb's parents, and frustrated study sessions. Steve wasn't sure he knew what Eddie was expecting, no matter what Steve's reputation said. 

Which was another problem all on its own. Steve Harrington was supposed to be the perfect date, charming and attentive. Steve had worked hard to make that part of the gossip his dates circulated. Eddie deserved that, too; Eddie deserved everything.

Steve just didn't know if he could deliver. 

The 'Steve Harrington Experience' didn't come as naturally as he liked girls to believe, and lately… Steve just didn't have the energy. He wanted to be that guy, the only part of the old him that had done anyone any good, but he felt too hollow and fragile. Like when he had been excising all the worst parts of him, he'd dug a little too far and hit something vital. 

He didn't know if that would ever heal, only that the emptiness was less loud with Eddie's hand in his. 

But if that wasn't what Eddie wanted– if he was expecting the Steve he'd crushed on in high school– 

Steve swallowed his nausea as the familiar roaring of Eddie's van in the driveway drifted past the door. It was too late to call things off, now. He'd never be able to say no to Eddie's face, not when they both knew how badly Steve wanted this. 

Eddie knocked on the door, some wild rhythm Steve didn't recognize, and even as he lunged to open it, he heard Eddie shout, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Harper!" 

"It's like you want them to call my parents," Steve said, instead of the romantic hello he'd been deliberating over for hours. Mrs. Harper certainly looked like she was considering it, glaring at them both from her front window. Steve was glad he had started a rumor about her eating kids in middle school. She was certainly looking to start worse, now. 

"Nah, Gloria wouldn't do that to me. We're tight," Eddie said, waving cheerfully across the road. 

Steve didn't even know where to start with that. "How?" 

"MILFs love me, Steve," Eddie said, and before Steve could protest– because, ew, Eddie, really –he was turning to Steve, finally. "Speaking of MILFs," he continued, voice dipping into an appreciative mumble that had Steve going red, "is this all for me?" 

Glancing down at his outfit, Steve felt himself flush. The sweater was a little old fashioned, like something his dad would wear on the deck of his uncle's boat when Steve was small, but in a soft pink color that made the soft wool look even cosier. He'd bought it on a whim in a thrift store with Robin, and had never worn it. "I can– You didn't say what I should wear," Steve mumbled, suddenly shy in the face of Eddie's effortlessly cool ripped jeans and slouchy tee. "I can change." 

Typical, a voice hissed in the back of Steve's skull. You finally accept that you want this and start showing him all the reasons he shouldn't. 

Eddie smiled, and put his hand on Steve's waist, stepping closer. "Don't you dare," he said, sliding his thumb under Steve's sweater to stroke his skin. "I like that you got all pretty for me, sweetheart." 

"It's just a sweater," Steve protested softly, his tongue feeling numb and clumsy in his mouth. 

"And you're still the prettiest thing in Indiana." 

Steve's eyes slid to the right, making harried eye contact with Mrs. Harper. Eddie shouldn't be allowed to say those things where Steve couldn't kiss him, he thought. "Eddie."

"Sorry, I'll stop teasing," Eddie said with a wicked smirk, and stepped back a respectable distance. His hand fell back to his side. Steve missed it instantly. "You ready to go?" 

"Been ready, Munson," Steve said, a bit braver without Eddie's hands on him. "I was starting to think I was getting stood up." 

It was meant as a joke, a gentle revenge for all the teasing Steve was sure he was in for, but to his surprise, Eddie stumbled on the way down the steps, and his tongue tripped along with his feet. "It took me longer to– I've never– I didn't know–" Eddie huffed, peering up at Steve through his bangs. "I wouldn't do that, you know?" 

Steve, having a much easier journey down, bumped their shoulders together as he passed. "Then get it together and prove it, Ed," he tossed over his shoulder. Much bolder than he felt, honestly. His heart thundered hearing Eddie's footsteps follow him to the van. 

"So do I get to know where we're going now?" Steve asked as they both climbed into their seats. Eddie had been holding out on him all week, despite several long phone calls where Steve had tried to wheedle it out of him. 

"Jesus, for a man as committed to being secretive and mysterious as you are–" 

"What?" Steve laughed. 

"--You're fucking terrible at surprises." 

Steve wasn't sure he'd had a good surprise in years, just the kind that gave him nightmares. Eddie wouldn't hurt him, he knew that, but Steve had developed a distaste for not being in control. Robin bitched at him for it constantly, citing everything from his heart to his hair to try and get him to unclench a little. 

From the way Eddie was side-eyeing him, Steve thought Robin would have an ally in that campaign very soon. 

"I wanna know," Steve whined. 

"I am trying to woo you, asshole," Eddie said, but he was laughing, so Steve didn't think he had ruined things yet. "Just sit there and be wooed." 

With a huff, Steve sat back and watched the suburbs fall away in his window. Eventually, he said, with a small pout: "I'd feel a lot more wooed if you were holding my hand right now." 

Shaking his head, Eddie obliged.

Steve contented himself with playing with Eddie's rings. Every brush of skin sent his stomach into fits. Even though they'd held hands before, that had been, at least in name, platonic; Now, with the intent of romance between them, the drag of Eddie's callouses against Steve's fingers meant so much more. A promise for tomorrow, the assurance that if Steve asked, Eddie would touch him. Steve raised Eddie's hand to his mouth, placing an open-mouthed kiss to his knuckles. 

Eddie shifted in his seat, the edges of Steve's smug grin pressing into his skin. "Can you behave for, like, five minutes? We're almost there." 

"I'm being good," Steve mumbled into Eddie's skin as he dragged his lips to Eddie's wrist. 

"Stevie." 

With a put-upon sigh, Steve dropped their hands back to his lap. He had expected Eddie to put a stop to his teasing– had craved it, even –but he'd hoped it would go on a little longer. This was the most fun flirting had been in years: No routines, no tired lines, just the heat in Eddie's eyes when Steve struck a nerve. 

God.

Steve wanted to bathe in Eddie's lust. 

He forced himself to look out the window and think simply, happy thoughts. Steve couldn't afford to be so intense when this thing of their was so tenuous. He couldn't ruin it. Luckily, it was easy to focus on the world outside the van as Hawkins gave way to the surrounding woods. 

"Are you taking me to Skull Rock?" Steve asked with a laugh. 

"I–" Eddie blushed as Steve's laughter faded into giggles. "No. I mean, I thought about it? But yeah, no." 

"Kind of a downer, huh?" That made sense. Steve certainly wouldn't want to have their first in the burnt rubble of the Starcourt Mall. 

Shrugging, Eddie said, "Sure, but also– Skull Rock has a reputation, you know? Not a first date vibe. I don't– I didn't want to be like, 'and for our first and perhaps only date, we will make out in the woods.' I want to, like, do this right." Eddie's voice was painfully earnest, and Steve– 

The part of Steve that belonged totally to Eddie grew a little larger. Maybe it was silly, on both their parts– Steve was the entire reason that Skull Rock had a reputation, after all. No one had ever bothered with treating Steve right, before. His enthusiasm was assumed. Legendary, even. Girls only dated Steve Harrington when they had intentions on Skull Rock. If not on the first date, then the second. His consent was an inevitability. 

"Somewhere close, though, right?" There wasn't much else to do out here, besides walk through the woods or wade in the springs that fed into the lake. 

Eddie huffed. "Okay, fine, Harrington. We're going on a picnic." 

"What, like, with sandwiches and blankets and ants and stuff?" 

"Why would you say it like– Stevie, have you never–" Steve blinked at him. "Okay. Uh, yeah. Blankets and ants and stuff." 

Steve thought of the movie he and Robin had watched last Christmas, the sad, long one with the woman who reminded him of his mother. The picnic in it  had seemed so romantic, warm and hazy and perfect. He grinned in excitement. "That's a pretty good surprise, Munson." 

"Yeah, it would have been," Eddie said, pointedly. 

Still smiling, though.

Eventually, the van came to a stop in a small clearing just off the road, and Steve had to relinquish his claim on Eddie's hand. As Eddie opened the back to pull out the blanket and the styrofoam cooler hidden underneath, Steve looked around them with a grin. It wasn't exactly the sprawling plains of Africa, but it was quiet, and familiar, and he hadn't almost died here, which was good enough for him. 

"Here, help me lay this out," Eddie said, offering one corner of the blanket. 

After a brief spat about where would be most comfortable (which Steve ended by telling Eddie he could just sit in Steve's lap, if he was that worried about it), they began to set up. Well, Eddie was setting up. Steve sat and watched Eddie work, delighting in every revealed dish and the nervous little looks Eddie sent his way. The food was sloppy and obviously handmade, simple dishes in stained Tupperware, and Steve couldn't wait to try it. 

"Yummy," Steve said, pressing himself into Eddie's side. 

Eddie's hands halted over a bowl of truly dismal looking potato salad. "You know," he started, slowly, before continuing his work. "I was kinda nervous you wouldn't be into this kind of thing." 

"What, someone I like going out of their way to do something nice for me?" Steve scoffed. "Yeah, who'd be into that?" Eddie wouldn't meet his eyes, but Steve could see the flush rising up the back of his neck. "Look, Eddie, this is what I was–" Steve sighed. He didn't want to make this a giant 'I told you so' moment, or end this so soon, but it was frustrating to constantly fight his past. "I get it, you know? My reputation isn't… It's intimidating. But I really–" 

"It's not that," Eddie said, his eyes as round and intense as ever. "It's, like… I don't care about what you did with other people, Steve. I just want this to work. I don't know how to– to be impressive? To prove that I'm good enough?"

Steve wrapped his hand around Eddie's wrist. "No one's cooked for me since I was like twelve." At the flicker of surprise in Eddie's eyes, Steve nodded. "That's when my last nanny quit. My dad told me if I ran that one off, he wasn't going to hire another, and Bradley Harrington never bluffs." 

"Yeah, but– but, like, you know other people–" 

"No girl I've ever dated has liked me for more than my hair and my name," Steve said, grinning when Eddie's little frown grew deeper. 

"That's not true–" 

"Pretty sure it is," Steve said, shrugging. "I've managed to dodge everyone who might care enough to feed me. Even poor Mrs. Henderson. The only one who care enough to hunt me down and make me accept it–" Steve brushed his thumb over the curve of Eddie's cheek. "--was this one guy I know. Refused to take no for an answer, really." 

"Sounds like an asshole," Eddie said. 

"Nah," Steve replied as he leaned in. "My man's sweet as pie." He kissed Eddie's cheek, his bottom lip catching the corner of Eddie's mouth. Before he could pull away, Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve's waist, hand flat against the small of Steve's back. 

"Your man, huh?" Eddie's voice had dropped down into an octave that always made Steve shiver.

Fuck, Steve thought, as he pressed kisses to Eddie's jaw. He might have to let this man love him. He hummed, nuzzling into Eddie's warmth, his nose butting into Eddie's cheek. "If he's good," Steve whispered, the ghost of a tease. 

Eddie kissed him, then, simple and sweet. Steve sighed into it, his hands flying to Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie was pulling away before he could settle into the embrace. 

"Hold that thought, baby," Eddie said, his voice still deliciously rough. "You owe me a date, first." 

Steve pouted, even as he nodded in reluctant agreement, leaning back as far as Eddie's embrace would allow. "It would be a shame if we didn't eat all this lovely food," he admitted, to Eddie's disbelieving laughter. 

They lapsed into idle conversation as Eddie served them both– A tough job with only one hand, but neither of them were willing to break the half-embrace they'd fallen into. 

The fact that Eddie seemed to want to touch Steve just as badly as he wanted to touch Eddie made Steve's chest fill with warmth. In his past relationships, Steve had always been the clingy one, the one who was constantly reaching out to touch and claim. Some girls liked it, some girls detested it– Tommy had threatened to knock common sense back into him. Nancy had put with it the most, never complaining when Steve felt the need to touch no matter where they were, but she never reached back. 

But she had enjoyed it, the sick thing inside Steve whispered, until she didn't. And it was right, because while Nancy had never loved him, she had at least enjoyed the way he loved her. But that had faded, and if Nancy could lose patience with his neurotic need to hold after one bad night and a few drinks, what was stopping Eddie? 

The sick feeling of panic that lurked in Steve's stomach broke through the rose coloured haze he'd been living in since Eddie had picked him up. What had he been thinking, letting himself believe in this? 

Blood roared in Steve's ears as he sat up, shifting away from Eddie. God, he was so fucking stupid. Sure, it felt great now, but what about in two weeks, when Eddie decided he'd had enough of picking up half of Hawkins' sloppy seconds? How would it feel to say goodbye to the kindest, gentlest love he'd ever known? How did someone even survive something like that? He needed to get out of here. He'd walk if he had to. He couldn't do this. 

He couldn't fucking do this. 

"Stevie, baby, what's wrong?" Eddie said. 

"Just keep running, Stevie-boy, just like you always do," Tommy's voice said. 

"You're bullshit," said Nancy's. 

"When we went camping," Steve said, voice shaking with effort not to gag around the lump in his throat, "you told me I was different because I never ran from anything. Do you– Do you still think that, even after everything?" 

Eddie slid closer, his hand tugging Steve close, pressing him against Eddie's chest. "I never should have said that. I'm sorry, honey. I–" 

Despite his misgivings, Steve was pliant in Eddie's arms, quietly waiting for judgement. 

"You are brave, sweetheart. Being scared or weak doesn't change that. Putting yourself in between danger and the kids a million time has more than proven that. But you're allowed to not be brave, sometimes, Stevie. That's not what makes you good. You're good for a thousand– a million reasons, and most of them boil down to the fact that you, Steve Harrington, love bigger and harder than anyone else I've ever met." 

"Sorry I keep ruining our date," Steve mumbled, his face squished up against Eddie's collarbone. 

"Stevie, I would tell you how beautiful and special and lovely you are for the next several hours without complaint," Eddie said, smoothing a hand down Steve's back. "You haven't ruined anything." 

"Can we just pretend this didn't happen? Like I'm not a huge mess?" 

"Of course." Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of Steve's head. "Come on, sit up and have some water before I feed you." 

Dutfiully, Steve sat up, his legs still draped over Eddie's, and accepted the thermos of cold water. True to his word, Eddie made no more mention of Steve's brief panic attack, instead launching into a description of Wayne's face when he had come home that morning to find Eddie cooking. But he was gentle in a way he hadn't been earlier, soft voice and softer touches. Steve wasn't sure if he loved or hated it, but he stayed silent and sipped his water. 

Eventually, he felt steady enough to join Eddie's one-sided conversation. Small, stilted sentences, at first– but even that made Eddie grin over at him, ecstatic. As they talked about nothing much at all, Steve felt himself slowly settle. He ate in small, tidy bites. He tried the watermelon lemonade Wayne had sent along. He held Eddie's hand. Somewhere along the way, he began to feel like Steve again. 

Enough like Steve, anyway, that he was hyper-aware of Eddie's hand on him. It was an innocent touch, much the same as how they touched as friends– Which was probably why Eddie was barely paying attention to the motion of his own hands. But Steve, obsessed as he was with Eddie's fingers, could think of little else. They were holding hands, familiar enough to the both of them to not be the earth-shattering touch it once was. But Eddie had fallen back into the old habit of tracing shapes up and down Steve's arm with his free hand, and it was driving Steve as crazy as it always did. It was almost worse, now, knowing that Eddie wanted him back. The knowledge blared like an alarm in the back of Steve's head, growing louder when fingertips pressed into that spot in his arm that sent shivers down his spine. 

He could do something about it, if he wanted. They hadn't talked about it much, but Steve was pretty sure that Eddie wouldn't say no if Steve kissed him. It felt wrong, though, to just lean over and take. Eddie had made it clear he didn't want today to be about making out, but Steve– Steve wanted to kiss Eddie so bad it made his teeth hurt. 

Thinking was hard. He would just let Eddie do it. 

"Eddie," Steve said, when Eddie paused during a rant about Gareth's inability to take a hint. 

"Yeah, Steve?" 

Steve did his best to not sound like the desperate virgin he suddenly felt like, dozens of hookups notwithstanding. "Could I have a kiss?" 

Eddie blinked as if he didn't understand the question. Steve huffed, leaning in until their shoulders bumped, bunching the hem of Eddie's tee in one hand. 

"Please?" 

Instantly, Eddie's smile morphed into something Steve didn't recognize, a sharp and knowing thing. A smile that made his teeth seem sharper. His free hand came up to cup Steve's jaw. "Oh, honey," he crooned. "Of course you can." 

They'd kissed before. Steve had expected it to be the same as it had been before, either hard and passionate like the one in the club, or the sweet sipping Eddie had indulged in since. It wasn't like those at all. Eddie kissed him like a soldier on a battlefield he had already conquered, like a victory lap, like a man on top of the world. He kissed like he'd heard the voice in Steve's chest, begging to be owned, and was determined to find it. Steve didn't know when their hands had come unclasped, or when he'd clutched at Eddie's jacket. He only knew the broad, flat strokes of Eddie's tongue against his panting mouth– Never delving as deep as Steve wanted him, never staying long enough to play. Steve was falling apart in his hand, and Eddie was still teasing. 

And then, horribly, he was pulling away. 

"Like that, baby?" Eddie asked, as if he couldn't feel Steve trembling against him. 

"More, please," Steve said, and climbed into Eddie's lap. 

They were still kissing when the sun began to set. Steve's mouth had gone hot and numb so long ago he'd almost forgotten about it. His jaw ached with every kiss, but when Eddie pulled back, Steve still swayed after him. 

"Oh," Eddie said, looking up at the darkening sky. Besides the rasp in his voice and his swollen lips, he looked remarkably put together. He was a rock that Steve wanted to ruin himself on. "I should probably get you home, huh?" 

"No." Steve's hand tightened their grip. 

"Stevie," Eddie chastised, pressing a kiss between Steve's brows. "Good girls don't put out on the first date." 

It was an effort not to squirm in Eddie's lap at the implication. "I'd rather be a slut." 

Eddie laughed, slightly hysterical. "I know, I know. Hey." Eddie lifted Steve's chin and met his gaze, suddenly serious. "It's been a wild day. Lots of ups and downs and– fuck, baby, I'd really like to say we could keep it casual, but you already seem pretty out of it." 

Well, that was what happened when you let your boyfriend do the thinking, Steve supposed. He was going to be a bitch about it, though, he decided, and slid out of Eddie's lap with a glare. (More of a scowl. A pout, really.) 

"I'll just go wait in the van for you to clean up, then?" 

Despite his efforts, Eddie groaned. "Sounds good. Take the water with you." 

It wasn't until he had stomped halfway to the van that Steve realized he'd thought of Eddie as his boyfriend. 

The ride back home felt shorter. Steve didn't want to be alone again. The warmth of Eddie's body was already fading from Steve's skin, and he felt that if he breathed the stale air of his home again, the rest of the night would fade, as well. Like being alone was a momentum Steve couldn't shake, and it would continue forever if he let himself lapse back into it. 

The threat of his own mind hovered over him like a fist. Steve wanted to beg Eddie to stay with him a little longer, just so he didn't have to face what his brain would try to convince him of. Nothing could be as horrific as Steve's own imagination. 

But when Eddie parked in the driveway, Steve said nothing. He'd already asked for so much he didn't deserve; to ask for more was a level of selfishness that Steve couldn't bring himself to consider. 

"I had a good time," Eddie said, such a typical first date goodbye  that Steve had to shake himself out of his stupor to laugh. 

"Me too," Steve said, squeezing the hand that had made its way back to his during the drive. "I'm looking forward to the next one." Eddie's smile was worth every second of torture that losing him would cause. Steve was sure of it. 

"Before that, though, I had an idea." Eddie untangled their fingers, and stared down at his own hand for a moment before pulling a ring– a cross, with four tiny skulls at the corners –off. He flashed it at Steve with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and then slipped it onto Steve's pointer finger. 

"I… don't get it." Because his ring finger, sure– Steve had seen a lot of sappy class ring exchanges in his time, and he wouldn't be surprised if Eddie had his own metalhead spin on it. But there was nothing romantic about this, besides the warmth of Eddie's skin on the metal, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to be reacting. 

Eddie shrugged, a sheepish smile curling across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I just…" He huffed. "I was thinking, right, about how you would probably start overthinking things again, eventually, and I can't always be there to talk you out of it. So, you know…" 

"So you gave me a ring?" Steve's confusion only made Eddie's blush worse. 

"I just thought, you know, you could borrow it?" 

"You want me to give it back?" 

Eddie's eyes snapped to Steve's. "The next date. You can give it back the next date, and then I'll let you borrow another one, and you'll always know I'm gonna show up for the next one, because–" 

"Because I'll have your ring." 

"Yeah." 

Steve's eyes stung. "I love you so fucking much, you know that?" 

Eddie brought Steve's hand to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to his own ring. "I know." 

[cjsinkythoughts]

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded!  Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum. 

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead. 

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…” 

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading​, @thatsdarwinism​, @satellitespidey​

[fang-wife]

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loft music | tamaki amajiki

➳ tags ;; mean!reader, sub!tamaki, teasing, mild humilation, degradation, unprotected sex, the petname bunny n fucktoy, sweet lil ending, there’s only one bed, oh no!

➳ wc ;; 2.4k

➳ a/n ;; speed wrote this shit at 6am and it’s currently 9am. i haven’t slept...

edit: reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags </3 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He thinks you’re joking most of the time.

It’s to be expected of someone like Tamaki - all nerves, fear, anxiety. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to believe someone like you actually means all the flirty things you say. Certain you’re making fun of him, he tries his hardest to let the commentary slide off his shoulders like he needs it too.

But it’s hard. You make him feel so frazzled. It’s so hard to pretend he isn’t bothered by your too close touches, the warmth of your breath, the feeling of your body pressed against his when you hold his arm on patrols. It’s like he knows - deep down, that you’re doing it to mess with him. He knows that you’re doing it to see him frustrated because you make that face when he squirms. It’s so evil and so mean and humiliating -

and so unbelievably arousing. It makes his breath catch in his lungs - his stomach twist and turn. It makes his entire body burn with desire and he hates it. He feels uneasy when he sees you - not knowing what thing you’ll do to string him along like before. There’s a restless that you’ve grown inside him - planted in his heart and lungs that he finds inescapable. He’s more afraid of it when you’re not there, on the days you don’t bother him at all.

He can’t understand himself. Why he’s so disappointed when you’re partnered with someone else on patrol. Why he goes home feeling extra miserable when you haven’t said something to push his buttons. It makes him feel like a puppy waiting for it’s master - downtrodden and depressed without your attention.

There’s the jealousy too. That bitterness in his mouth when that new rookie clings to your side with doe-eyes. It made him sick to see you pinch the newbies cheek with any kind of affection - ruffling his hair and throwing your arm around his shoulder.

It’s all unreasonable. And confusing. He doesn’t know how to feel about you and can’t determine how you feel about him. There’s not even anyone he can tell because how was he supposed to explain himself?

But he has to rid himself of this frustration somehow - manage it before he really breaks down.

{ ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ }

He knows for certain that being on this mission with you, alone - in this room with one bed, will not help him at all.

He cannot remember a time he felt this miserable. His heart damn near fell out of his ass when the receptionist told him about the mix-up. It didn’t help that he saw that little whimsical look in your eyes when you registered it. The faux disappointment and shrug. Tamaki doesn’t trust you at all, not one bit.

He figures he must’ve done something truly evil in a past life to deserve this. He’s expecting some kind of commentary from you given the whole situation when you enter the room. There’s a couch, and a desk. A singular lamp and a TV - and the bed is big but not big enough for two. Not big enough for you to sleep truly separate.

He awaits your commentary anxiously, as your eyes drink in the surroundings. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but he knows it’s not you opening the curtains and staring out into the city.

“It’s really a beautiful. Shame we’re only here for a mission,” ― you sigh, stretching your arms and yawning ― “I’ll take the couch tonight, by the way. We should sleep soon,”

His eyes widen. Did he hear you correctly?

“Sorry, what?”

You turn your head and blink at him, head cocked to one side. You blink a few times before knitting your brows together.

“Hm?”

“Y-you’re gonna sleep on the couch?”

You nod.

“Yeah. You’ll be using your quirk a lot tomorrow, so at least for tonight - I’ll take the couch”

Tamaki isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel about it. He knows it shouldn’t be disappointment. He nods dumbly.

“Oh.. okay”

“Cool. I’m gonna get washed up and head to bed - I’m beat”

He watches you slink off to the bathroom, dumbfounded.

{ ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ }

You’re putting on skin cream as Tamaki contemplates your proposal. The only thing in the background is some TV drama - but the words are blurring. His head is racing with a million thoughts. You’re not even fazed - seemingly off somewhere in your own world as Tamaki sorts his own emotions out by weight.

Everything else, reason, shame, anxiety - is drowned by the most unpleasant feeling of disappointment he’s ever experienced. He’s trying his hardest to understand it but every time he tries - his brain fires off into question marks. Why the hell is he so disappointed? Shouldn’t he be relieved?

But he isn’t. He feels so uneasy he wants to throw some kind of tantrum but he can’t. He’s changed into pajama pants and a loose white shirt - his legs crossed on the bed. He chews his lip nervously. Why does he feel like this?

“Uhm, y-you know you should.. sleep on t-the bed with me. Uhm, since - we’re both gonna be.. uhm, busy”

What is he saying? What is he doing?

You pause, turning over your shoulders with your brow quirked. You mask your amusement, straightening your face.

“Oh.. uh - you sure? Won’t that be uncomfortable for you?,”

Obviously.

“No!”

You smile at him.

“Then.. sure. Let me know if I make you uncomfortable”

And with that you turn away to face the mirror - finishing the rest of your skincare and putting it away as Tamaki anxiously sets alarms on his phone and adjusts his side of the bed. He tucks himself in before you do - with his eyes closed, listening to the rustling of your movement. He waits and waits for what feels like an eternity until your body weight dips on the other side of the bed.

He can feel you. Your body radiating a pleasant warmth - the smell of hotel soap and your skin cream and whatever detergent you always use. He buries his face into his pillow to try and mask his burning humiliations but his mind feels so blank. If he moves an inch your bodies would be touching - the lights are off but the city is bright enough that it doesn’t matter. Tamaki shuts his eyes and prays for something. Not entirely sure what, but something.

You move around and bristle against him - and he flinches.

“Tamaki, you okay? Sorry about that -”

Your voice has gone low in the night, soft and gentle. He squirms. Unsure what to do with this leftover frustration, he hugs his pillow to his body and buries his face in it.

“‘m fine,”

“.. You sure? You seem kinda off. You can talk to me,”

Your assurance is gentle. It makes Tamaki feel strange. You’re lucky he can’t see you because your smile would give you away. He’s so obvious it hurts you, but you play nice. You can be mean later, soon so for now  - you play nice.

He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t know what to do with himself. His cock twitches pathetically in his pants and he freezes. His body runs cold with a shiver. You turn to face his back.

Tamaki feels like prey more than ever. Like most predators, you know when to sink your teeth in. He’s not exception not really. You scoot closer to him, voice just a whisper.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Tamaki?”

He can’t answer, but he shakes his head.

“No? Then what is it?”

You’re close. Too close. He trembles as your body presses against his back - let’s out a noise.

“Use your words, Tama - I won’t bite. Why do you feel like this, hm?”

Your hands hover above him. His body shudders. His voice hiccups, a sob deep within his ribcage pouring out of him. It becomes clearer than ever that he needs you to touch him. Shame blooms in his belly.

“I won’t touch you till you say yes” ― you sound amused, the kind he’s learned to recognize ― “If you want to go to sleep, just say the word”

He breaks. Shatters into pieces as a tremor tears through him.

“Please,”

“Please what?”

“Touch me, touch me please - can’t,”

Your hands come up under his shirt, pinching his nipples as you place a kiss to his shoulder. His back arches, whimpering as his eyes shoot open. Your breath ghosts along the nape of his neck, your hands settled at his chest.  

“Okay” ― you soothe ― “Turn around for me, baby”

Baby. Tamaki shudders as he flips over to face you. You reach over to flip the lights on - only a gap between you two. His brain feels like it’s melting - your face is so close to his own. You give him a small smile - eyes brimming with tears and expression burning red. You reach your hand to wrap around his neck and bring him towards,  kissing him feverishly. He moans when he feels your tongue in his mouth.

He kisses you eagerly, hands frozen at his side as your tongue explores his mouth. Outlines his teeth, brushes against his own - he melts into the touch. He whines disappointedly when you stop.

Your hand cups his face.

“You’re such a pervert, Tamaki” ― you grin, brushing your thumb against his lower lip befores ticking it in his mouth ― “Got so antsy without me. You like being teased so much?”

Not in a spot to deny it, he merely shuts his eyes.

“...why did you stop t-teasing me?”

You chuckle, kissing the shell of his ear as your hands slide up his waist, around his body.

“I thought you didn’t like it baby,”

He muffles himself, mumbling about how he didn’t think he did either. Your hand travels down, squeezes his hard cock from his pajama pants. Gasping for air, he moans and ruts into your palm.

“You like when I’m mean to you, Tama? Like when I make fun of you ‘n tease you?”

“Hnggh”

You hold a hand up to his mouth with a warm smile.

“Spit”

His eyes go wide as you blink at him curiously. A pang of shame hits as he spits into your palm weakly, watching through lidded eyes as your hand travels to his cock - just underneath his sweats. His hands fist the sheets as you pump him lazily.

“You’re cock is so red ‘n pretty, Tamaki”

“You’re ― hic ― you’re m-making fun of me”

“’s that why you’re so hard? It’s drooling all over my hand. You’re so wet - they’re gonna have to change our sheets in the morning” ― you tease ― “They’re gonna know how lewd you are bunny, so much keeps coming out when I touch you”

He shakes his head, grits his teeth. He can feel himself creaming into your fist, overwhelmed by your touch. His eyes are screwed so tight it aches. So lost in pleasure and the sound of your voice humiliating him.

“You like being my little fucktoy, bunny? Like when I treat you like a pet and play with you whenever I like?,”

“Aaah, aah - pl-please” ― he shakes his head furiously ― “can’t t-take it, please”

“Bet you’re gonna make the cutest face when I let you fuck my pussy,”

His eyes shoot open as he feels you scoot closer to him. You pull his pants down swiftly - your hand covered in pre-cum. He watches with wide eyes as you pull your own shorts down, a string of arousal trailing down your thigh. Tamaki watches it with hearts in his eyes, making you laugh deeply. It’s an affirmation that you meant everything you said - that he was making you like that too. It’s enough to make him sniffle.

He watches as you lift your leg up - tugging his cock towards you. It’s pretty - thin and long and so red it’s almost purple. Your cunt envelops it . Clit throbbing against the tip, Tamaki’s sure he’ll cum if he moves. You grind against him so slowly, bringing his face towards you.

His mouth drops open as you kiss him. His dick is twitching relentlessly at the way you gasp.

“Feel how wet you make me when you look all pathetic?”

“Can I please, nghh - can you please let me,”

“Wanna cream inside me, bunny? Wanna fuck me so bad you’d do anything?”

He nods rapidly. A silent scream leaves his mouth as you adjust - slide yourself right down onto his cock. You feel so much better then he could ever picture. Soft and tight and warm and wet - like pure fucking velvet. His hands dip into your hips for support. Through lidded eyes, he watches your hand come down between your thighs.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t - ‘m gonna,”

You feel him spurt his hot cum into you with a loud, broken cry. His throat, sored from exhaustion, doesn’t serve him any better when you start moving. Fucking yourself on his overstimulated, half-hard cock with face paced rhythm. Your fuckin his cum right back into you and he’s sobbing through the overstimulation. His mind feels so broken - so pliant and obedient.

“’s too much ― ! p-please, can’t”

“Shh, ‘sokay baby,”  ― you groan, meeting him in a kiss that manages to overwhelm him even more ― “Fuck, gonna cum, fuck”

The tension in your gut snaps like a rubber band and your whole body spams. Clenching down so tightly on Tamaki, he sobs. You’re whispering good-boy and other praises until you’re down and sobered from your high.

When you open your eyes - Tamaki is staring at you in amazement. His cock has gone soft inside you but you don’t bother telling him to pull out.

“You did so good baby,” ― you kiss the crown of his head ― “good job”

He feels small and warm under your touch. A blush forms on his cheeks, words completely failing him to express himself. You don’t make him. Brushing your thumb against his cheeks, you smile.

“I know I tease you a lot, Tama - but I really do like you,’

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He shrinks when he hears you giggle, flushing.

“I.. I l-like you too”

You chuckle, petting his hair and burying his face in your chest. You let your chin rest atop his head and nod.

“Then we’ll have to talk more tomorrow. Let’s sleep, okay?”

He blushes, embarrassed but content..

“O-okay..”

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[buckyownsmylife]

Worst Behavior - Chris Evans smut

The one where it was supposed to be a sex scene, but Chris fucked you for real - and he didn’t care that your boyfriend was watching

Warnings: infidelity (reader cheats on oc boyfriend with Chris), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: thank you to my ride or die, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for looking this over and giving me her thoughts about it. Writing is such a better process with you to scream about it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was seething when I burst through her trailer’s door, so out of my mind that the sight of her raising a hand over her heart, clearly startled, didn’t make me feel even remotely guilty.

“So this is it, huh? We’re gonna film this one last scene, and then you’ll be back by his side, like you and I were nothing, like I never even mean anything to you.” Somewhere inside my troubled mind, a tiny, still emotionally sober part of me saw her wiping a stray tear after it immediately fell from her eye, clearly not wanting to show this sign of weakness in front of me.

But again, I was too out of it to care. I wanted her to hurt, I wanted her to feel the pain that I was feeling, after all she put me through. How could she expect me to leave this set like I was the same man that met her? She had fundamentally changed me, by showing me how to love and be loved, how it was possible to find in a single person the answer to all of my needs and desires for my future.

I couldn’t just go on pretending I didn’t know what I knew now. But that’s what she intended to do. She wanted to leave and keep living in the pretense that nothing had changed, that she was still in love with the man waiting for her on set.

I knew for a fact that wasn’t the case. I knew it because there was no way my feelings were one-sided, no way everything we had gone through had only mattered that much to me. I knew her, probably better than I knew myself. And I knew this was all just fear and anxiety, clouding her mind and stopping her from going after what she truly wanted.

Unfortunately, the only way I could process these emotions at the moment was through anger.

“Is that how you see me?” Her sweet voice surprised me, I didn’t expect her to actually respond to my hurt-filled accusations. “Do you think I’m that cruel, that I would just be able to… to leave and forget you like this?”

I huffed, too inside my own mind to relent now. Yes, this is how I saw her, at least at that moment. She was the cause of my hurt, because she was the object of my desires.

“You’re doing this out of your own free will,” I reminded her. “Don’t try to pretend you’re just some innocent little victim in all of this. You have our fate in your hands, and you’re deciding to let it all go to waste.”

At the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks, my decision to leave was made even before she ordered me out of her trailer. I couldn’t stand to see her cry, couldn’t deal with the knowledge that I was the cause for it.

So, once again, I turned that distress into anger.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The air was chilly on set, and the fact that I was practically naked under the robe didn’t help. Neither did the tension between Chris and I. I wanted to make things right, I wanted to reach over and run my hands over his shoulders, relax the muscles I’d come to know so well. But I couldn’t do that right now. Not with my boyfriend watching us.

So I resigned myself to fiddling with my fingers as we waited for the set to be ready. Since it was one of those artistic sex shots, it would be filmed from a distance and there wouldn’t be any lines or sounds that we had to make, just movements to simulate. Which meant that the few people that were allowed to stay on the set had to watch the whole thing unfold from afar, and we would be free to fake having sex while they filmed us.

I don’t think I realized this could very well be the last time I had Chris this close to me until I had his mouth on mine again. I could still feel the emotions from earlier that day right beneath the surface, boiling his blood as he buried his hand on my hair and devoured my lips like he’d done so many times before.

Good thing the scene called for desperation.

I kissed him back just as desperately, wanting to enjoy every second of this experience, even if it wasn’t exactly what I desired at that time. Chris always kissed me so well, guiding me to where he wanted, and in no time at all he had me sprawled on the bed, underneath his larger body. I couldn’t help but to moan lowly when his lips attached themselves to my jaw, and I felt his smirk against my skin.

I couldn’t blame him. The effect he had on me was incomparable. He had every right to be smug about the sounds he could pull from me, Lord knows I’d cried out his name enough times to permanently puncture my own ear drums.

And still, it didn’t seem like it would be enough. The more he touched me - even if it was under a blanket, for a scene - the clearer it became that it could never be enough. I still wanted him. I wanted him forever, in fact.

But just as the realization occurred to me, his thumb slipped over my covered clit, pressing on the little nub and making me jerk away in surprise. “Shhh…” He directed, making sure to cover my face with his bicep so the camera wouldn’t catch my shock. “Just relax so it doesn’t hurt.”

I didn’t understand what he meant until I felt him pulling the flimsy excuse of underwear aside. That’s when my cunt pulsed, just before he positioned his cock and easily slid right into my wetness.

The feeling of his thickness was too much, especially when I wasn’t expecting it. My mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and he moved his arm so the camera could see it, but also turned his head to the other side so they wouldn’t notice his lips moving as he murmured to me, “Careful, sweetheart. Can’t make any real sounds. Not like the ones I usually pull from you. Wouldn’t want your boyfriend to realize that we’re actually doing it, huh?”

Chris’ P.O.V.

My desire for her ran so deep, I could hear my blood pumping in my veins as I fucked her right in front of her boyfriend. Right in front of everyone from the filming crew, for the camera to see.

I took sick pleasure in knowing this moment would be eternalized for history. Everyone would see just how pretty she looks for me and only for me, and no one would ever know the truth.

No one would ever know the truth. That I had her, that she was mine, but only for a bit. That I got to hold her, and have her screaming my name, but I’d never get to hear it again. I’d never get to have her again.

I didn’t want to have to pretend that I forgot it. Like I didn’t know this other side of her, that we never shared these sexual experiences that felt much more intimate than anything I’d ever shared with anyone else before.

It was hard to pretend that I didn’t care underneath the mask of a character that cared too much, because I was that character. I loved this woman just like he did, and I wanted to show her just how much.

I’d looked for her in everyone I’d met before. Slept with so many women, went out on so many dates, and now here she was, clenching around my cock, reaching for my hand and still, she wasn’t mine.

How can you keep looking for the love of your life if you’ve already met them?

And even if there was emotion - and there was so much emotion, ours or of our characters, it didn’t matter anymore - this felt so dirty, dirtier than anything else we’d ever done before.

I’d had her in so many ways, and still, having her now, right in front of him, brought new feelings I never expected to feel. And I couldn’t suffer through them alone. I needed to make sure she’d acknowledged it too.

“He has no idea, you know,” I whispered, low enough so the only person who could hear was her. Her eyes met mine in surprise, but she kept in character, while I took advantage of my position to taunt her more. “No one has. No one knows you only look like this when you have my dick inside of you.”

A moan broke free from her, making me smile inwardly even though I couldn’t smirk like I wanted to. I let go of one of her hands to push a few strands of hair away from her face, so both the camera and I could get a good vision of her expression.

“You’re such a good girl for me, honey. He could never get you like this. Only I can do that.” The way she clawed at my back made it obvious that I was right. And still, the reality of our situation didn’t allow for me to feel any sort of pride in that.

I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to cum and have to pull out of her, let her go back to him and their life as I was left by myself. “I can’t let you go,” I admitted, and her eyes opened up to meet mine, a slight sparkle of understanding in them. “Not like this,” I continued. “Not ever.”

And still, my hips picked up the pace and brought us to that old familiar high, right when I came to terms with the fact that I’d have to leave her. “Baby,” I whispered, this time knowing the microphone would pick it up.

Our eyes connected once more, but this time, there was mostly pain, from my gaze and from hers. I stood there for as long as I could, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, until the director’s voice freed us from the scene, and then I was forced to leave.

Before I did though, I had one last thing to say.

“I don’t want to have to miss you.”

One thing was certain. It would be impossible to remain professional during the press conference.